pronounced limp, he moved around better than anyone had expected. His physical therapist said he’d never seen anyone work as hard as Woodman to be whole again, and Woodman laid all that progress and all that improvement at Ginger’s feet. He credited her—the way she’d welcomed him home, into her arms, into her bed, into her heart—with giving him the strength and reason to push harder, be stronger, get well, be whole.
When he’d proposed, last New Year’s Eve, he said, “You gave your heart to me. I want to give my whole life to you.”
Tears tumbled from her eyes as he said the words. He didn’t know that her heart had been shattered two years before, in an old barn, splintered into a million jagged pieces. He didn’t know that when she said her heart was his, he was accepting something broken beyond repair.
But if he wanted it, he could have it. Whatever was left of it belonged to him.
“It’s yours,” she’d whispered tearfully, and he’d slipped his grandmother’s ring on her finger.
“Austin should’ve caught that,” he said, cupping her face with his hands and looking at her forehead with concern. “You okay, darlin’?”
She took a deep breath and stepped forward, into him, letting herself be enveloped in his scent and strength. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, resting her cheek against his chest.
“Mm-hm,” she hummed. “I’m fine.”
“You sure, baby?” He tipped her chin up and brushed his lips against hers.
They were warm and soft. Comforting. But when he tried to deepen the kiss, she pulled away to answer him. “I’m sure.”
“How’d it go at the cake place?”
She sighed. “Our mommas and Miz Simpkins run the whole show.”
“Aw, baby,” he said, his hands making soothing strokes up and down her back. “They’re just excited, is all.”
Quietly she bristled. Though she knew, or believed, that when push came to shove, Woodman was on her side, he was so conciliatory, so easygoing. She wanted him to slay dragons for her, but instead he became friends with the dragons and made excuses for their fire-breathing ways.
She leaned back in his arms and gave him a peeved look. “Your momma mentioned somethin’ ’bout a weddin’ gift?”
Woodman cringed. “Too much?”
“Way too much.”
“I just thought . . . well, honey, she was so excited about havin’ those things refinished. How about we take them and put them up in the attic for now?”
Another step closer to a destiny that isn’t mine.
“Fine,” she said, leaning her forehead on his shoulder and feeling beyond weary.
“Besides,” he said, “it’s just a weddin’ gift. What matters is that we’re gettin’ married. You and me forever, right?”
She nodded against him, an unrelenting heaviness that even Woodman couldn’t lighten, making it hard for her to speak.
“Right,” she managed to whisper.
“Happily ever after, Gin,” he said, pressing his lips to her temple.
“Happily ever after,” she repeated, closing her eyes and trying to remember how to breathe.
Chapter 17
~ Woodman ~
“Austin should’ve caught that,” said Woodman, cupping her face with his hands and looking at her forehead. Her skin was soft and smooth, and she was so beautiful, most days he couldn’t believe she was his. “You okay, darlin’?”
Instead of answering, she did something he loved almost more than anything else in the world: she stepped into him, flush against his chest, and let him hold her. She wrapped her arms around his waist, and his heart exploded with tenderness for her.
“Mm-hm,” she hummed. “I’m fine.”
Woodman pressed his lips to her hair, clenching his jaw with worry. The problem was that, despite her reassurances, he just didn’t feel like she was totally fine. She hadn’t been fine for a while. Though she always assured him that she was happy when he asked, since he had proposed, she had been unusually emotional. She cried more. She seemed more anxious and withdrawn. And Woodman couldn’t totally figure out what was going on.
Was it just wedding jitters? Dear God, he hoped that was all it was. He hoped that once they said “I do,” she’d start being herself again.
Though, if Woodman was truly honest, the person Ginger used to be had changed even before he asked her to marry him. He couldn’t quite pinpoint when the change had started—for a year or so after he came back, it just felt like they were adjusting to each other, getting used to being boyfriend and girlfriend after so many years of being friends and the sudden shock of sleeping together. Little by little, they’d become a