“I’m so dumb,” she sighed, her voice breaking a little as she tried to take another breath.
“No!” cried Woodman, holding her tighter, validating her instinctive demand for self-respect. “You’re not dumb. You’re—Gin, you’re the most amazin’ girl in the world. Don’t let Cain make you feel bad. Cain is a, well, he’s just a rat bastard, if you want to know the truth. I’m ashamed to be his cousin most days, but today? I’m furious. I’m so sorry he hurt you. I could just—”
Ginger leaned back, looking up at Woodman’s face, and for the first time she noticed the reddish-purple bruise on his cheek. She reached up and brushed her fingers against it gently, and he flinched.
“Y’all fought?”
Woodman scanned her face, trying to figure out how she’d feel about that, but she kept her expression cool, wanting his honesty. Finally he nodded. “He deserved it.”
Her lips twitched as she shook her head in disapproval. “How does the other guy look?”
“Split lip. Bleedin’ nose.”
A small, unladylike snort of laughter escaped through her lips. “Is it terrible that I’m glad?”
“If the image of Cain bleedin’ makes you smile, darlin’, I would have beat him up years ago.”
“Woodman,” she said softly, sliding her hand down his arm and weaving her fingers through his. “What am I goin’ to do with you?”
“How about lettin’ me take you to homecomin’?” He shrugged, looking down at his tux, then catching her eyes with a grin. “I’m a little overdressed for the club. And you are too beautiful to stay home alone tonight.”
Part of her did want to stay home. Part of her wanted to throw her dress in the fireplace, change into pajamas, and cry herself to sleep. Besides the fact that her kiss with Cain—which had meant so much to her—meant absolutely nothing to him, it must have sucked, which made her feel embarrassed. What a foolish little girl, thinking an experienced man like Cain would be swept off his feet by her inexperienced kiss, content to take her to a stupid high school dance on his last night home. What a ridiculous, naive child to think that a kiss that had shaken the foundation of her world could mean anything to him.
She looked up at Woodman’s sparkling eyes and managed a smile for him.
Here was Woodman, dressed to the nines. He’d beaten up Cain, picked his mother’s sacred flowers into a bouquet, and raced over to her house to comfort her and take her to a dance. He was leaving for boot camp tomorrow, but he was choosing to spend his last night at home with her.
The sun slipped below the horizon, bathing the farm in a gold and lavender half-light, and Ginger looked closely at Woodman, at his burnished blond hair and handsome smile. He didn’t have the dangerous flash and flare of Cain, but maybe she hadn’t been looking closely enough all these years. Maybe Woodman, whom she’d friend-zoned for so long, deserved more of a chance.
“You sure you want to spend your last night at home with me?” she asked, cocking her head to the side.
“Baby,” he drawled, sounding so much like Cain, she almost could have closed her eyes and tricked herself into believing he was here, after all, “ain’t nothin’ in the world I’d like more.”
***
Two hours later, she was flushed and happy, holding Woodman’s hands on the dance floor and hollering along with her classmates to a jazzed-up version of the Apple Valley fight song. Giggling with glee as she stumbled over the words, Ginger looked up as yet another popular high school senior approached them, politely interrupting their dance to have a short word with Woodman.
Here was something new she’d learned tonight: Woodman was popular. And not just popular, but stratospherically popular, well liked, respected, and admired. Never having attended high school at the same time as the cousins, Ginger had not had a firsthand opportunity to see how the teens of Apple Valley regarded them. But she’d lost count of the number of people, students and teachers alike, who’d stopped by to wish Woodman good luck at boot camp.
He shook the senior’s hand and clapped him on the shoulder, telling him to behave himself and “kick Canton’s ass all over the field” next week. Ginger watched with a growing mix of fascination and pride. He was, by far, the highlight of the dance for everyone there, and he was her date. Hers.