Gavin pulled out his wallet and spread his money beside his plate. “I have a few myself.”
“Ginny, get my wallet from the drawer by the front door.” Giving Gavin a self-effacing look, Silas scraped the last bite of pie onto his spoon.
Ginny hid her smile behind her napkin.
“You want to deal, or do you want me to?” Gavin asked.
“You. The arthritis in my hands makes it hard.”
Ginny lowered her napkin, wiggling her eyebrows again. The result was just as ineffective as before.
Gavin skillfully shuffled the deck. Recognizing his card mastery display, she realized he’d seen her caterpillar eyebrow and was trying to reassure her he knew what he was doing. “You playing, Ginny?”
“No, I’ll do the dishes. You two are on your own.” Ginny raised her hands in the air in surrender. She had warned him; her conscience was clear.
“You ready?” Gavin paused with his fingers poised over the cards.
“As long as you remember this is just a friendly game. I don’t plan on losing my last pay check.”
“Just as long as you remember the same.”
Ginny rolled her eyes as she stood to gather the dishes. The two men were unaware that they were staring at each other like greedy sharks, seeing their willing victims over their cards.
She would stay and watch, but bloodbaths had a way of splattering during the kill.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“I walked right into that, didn’t I?”
Ginny took the box from Gavin that Silas had sent him upstairs to give her. She had to yell down asking for one when she heard Silas say he needed to go check on the generators with the storm coming in during the middle of night.
Holding back her laughter, she gave Gavin a commiserating look. “Yes, you did. But don’t feel bad. We were raised knowing how good he is, and he would sucker us in every time.”
Her hand trembled when Gavin sat down on her bed. The box was between them, but she took to heart that he hadn’t sat on the other twin bed.
“I used to think I was good, but he left me in the dust. The first hands, I thought it was just being out of practice. I hadn’t played since—” Gavin broke off, staring down at what she was storing in the box.
“Since you were kidnapped?” she softly finished for him.
“Even before that, I hadn’t played for almost a year. The last game I played was in the club in Ohio.”
Ginny reverently wrapped a Cabbage Patch doll in tissue paper. “You remember your last game? You must have lost a lot of money to remember the time and place.”
“The money isn’t why I remember it. It was the last time the brothers were together, having a good time … until Rider and I got into an argument.”
Placing the doll into the box, Ginny picked up a children’s Bible with the pages dipped in fake gold. She smoothed her fingers over the worn leather instead of looking at Gavin. “What makes hur—” Ginny stopped to correct herself, to delicately probe, afraid of Gavin shutting down. “What made you remember it the most? Because it was the last time you spent with them having a good time or fighting with Rider?”
Gavin picked up a small trophy. “The fight.”
“What was the fight about?”
“Taylor. Rider called her a tag chaser.”
Ginny frowned. “Rider had to be mad at you for him to say that.”
Gavin looked up from his perusal of the trophy. “Why?”
“Because you don’t insult someone’s fiancé without a reason.” Ginny shrugged. “At least in Kentucky, we don’t.”
“Memphis started an argument when he lost … it boiled over into Rider and I arguing.”
“Now I understand why you remember.” Ginny sighed. “You regret arguing with Rider.”
“I hit him.” Gavin laid the trophy down to pick up a wooden stewer stick that had different colors of construction paper glued to the top. “What’s this?”
Ginny took the stick from him. Placing the stick between her hands, she started rubbing her palms. “A rainbow spinner.”
Gavin took the stick back, mimicking her motions. “Cute.” Setting the spinner down, he picked up a Rubik’s cube and began to change the mixed-up colors.
Ginny kept sorting through the remnants of her childhood.
“The day I had to go live with someone else after Freddy and Leah died, I told Silas that I hated him. I’ll never forget the look on his face.” Blindly, Ginny stared down into the memory-filled box. “I could have come home any time after I turned eighteen, but I didn’t. I think I still wanted to