Rewrite Our Story (Sutten Mountain, #1)

by Kat Singleton

My feet take off on their own. One moment I was sitting on the little seat in front of my window that overlooked the trees and the stables, the next I'm running through the snow in a pair of socks and my nightgown, my eyes set on the large home at the top of the hill. I’m careful as I sneak through the backdoor, knowing the Jennings family never locks it. They don’t have to. There isn’t anyone around for miles.

“Goldie?” a familiar voice calls out from behind me. I freeze, knowing I’ve been caught. Slowly, I turn to face the voice behind me. Cade Jennings. My best friend’s big brother. The boy I’ve had a crush on for as long as I can remember. His eyes widen when he takes me in. His pajamas have superheroes all over them. I remember Pippa making fun of them at breakfast a couple of weeks ago.

“How’d you know I was out here?” I’d asked, trying to wipe away the tears on my cheeks.

“I don’t know, Goldie,” he whispers. “I woke up and just felt like you were there. That you needed me. And then⁠—”

“Then you were there.” He pauses, taking in my appearance. “Why are you wet?” he asks before noticing the tears coating my cheeks. “And why are you crying?” He throws a blanket over my shoulders and pulls me into his scrawny body. His question opens my heart. All of my feelings come pouring out, and I start crying right there on the edge of Cade’s bed. “Oh shit,” Cade mumbles into my hair as he awkwardly wraps me in a hug. “That’s a bad word.” My voice shakes as I struggle to get the words out between my sobs. Cade pulls his blue comforter around us. Without words, he nudges me up the bed. “Not sure what you expect from me when you’re crying like this, Goldie. Pops always says we can use bad words if the timing is right.”

His copper eyes take in my face. “I don’t like seeing you cry, Goldie.”

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” I sniffle against his chest, wishing we could stay underneath the protection of his comforter for forever. “Wake me up anytime you need.” I look at him through blurry eyes. I must look like a mess, but Cade doesn’t seem to care. “You mean that?” He nods. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he must think better of it because he quickly closes it. It seems like forever until he finally opens his mouth to talk again. “I mean it, Goldie.” Cade Jennings did mean it. He was there for me night after night. When I was a sad child mourning the loss of her mother—her world—he was the one to help me through it. He never asked questions when I’d show up at his door throughout the years. He always had some sort of sixth sense, always somehow knowing when I needed him. He’d open the door to find me standing there, needing him for one reason or another. I knew Cade would always be in there in the dark confines of the four walls of his bedroom. Cade Jennings was always there for me when I needed him—until he wasn’t.

My chest constricts as I recall the reason I’m here. Pippa’s mom, Linda, suddenly passed away two days ago, taking everybody by surprise. She’d been in perfect health—or so we’d thought. Turns out, her heart wasn’t in good condition. The night before last she went to bed and just never woke up.

The pit in my stomach gets bigger as I wait at baggage claim and prepare for what’s to come. Linda was the glue that held the Jennings family together. Her husband, Jasper, is probably beside himself. They had been together since middle school. She loved to tell the story of how he stole her pencil and she instantly fell in love with him.

The truth is, I never really intended to return home. Not really. At least not until my broken heart had mended. I’d loved Cade for so long, and when I finally came to the catastrophic realization that he’d never loved me in the way I wanted him to, I was gutted.

The sun coming up over the mountains is blinding, and I have to squint to search for Pippa. I frown, not seeing her anywhere. I’m seconds away from pulling my phone out when I hear a familiar voice. “Goldie.” My stomach plummets from the way the nickname sounds coming out of his mouth. The two syllables coming from his lips still make my stomach twist, even years later. It used to be in anticipation. Only now it’s in distress. Maybe it has something to do with the menacing way he pronounces the name he’s called me for as long as I can remember.

Taking a deep breath, I look up and into the eyes of the boy who broke my heart. Except, it’s no longer a boy that looks back at me. It’s a man, and he looks better than I could’ve ever imagined.

My eyes flick down Mare’s body as she gawks at me in what looks like disbelief. Her gloss-coated lips part as she stares a hole right through my head. I’m not sure I blame her. The last time we saw each other—the last time she saw me—we were standing at this very airport. She’d offered to give me everything she had to give but I denied her. I walked away from her. It seems she hasn’t forgotten how we left things. I haven’t either. “Did that big city steal your voice?” I ask, pulling one of her blonde curls. Her hair is much longer than the last time I saw her. I loathe how much more tamed it looks now that she’s all grown up. Maybe it’s the fact that the carefully styled locks are just another reminder that she left our small town and didn’t look back once. She adapted to city life like it was made for her. Like her place wasn’t at the ranch where mine would always be.

“I was expecting Pippa,” she says. Her words have a bite to them that I’m not entirely surprised by. She refuses to look at me as she pulls her phone from the back pocket of her jeans. Even her jeans don’t look the way they should. They’re not worn in the slightest. There isn’t a single hole or fray on them. I hate it. Mare always had a way of wearing jeans until they were so destroyed; Mom would scold her until she got a new pair. My heart twinges from the memory of Mom.

“Couldn’t Pippa have sent someone else?” Mare questions. When I try to take one of her suitcases, she slaps my hand away in defiance. I fight a grin. There’s something about the way Mare–the girl I nicknamed Goldie—attempts to look intimidating; it soothes the ache in my heart. Despite her attempts to push me away, I grab her larger suitcase and head toward my parked truck. “And who would you suggest?” Mare reluctantly follows me, and her eyes narrow when they focus on the tailgate I pull down. “I don’t know, one of the stable hands.” I shake my head at her. “They have jobs. Trail maintenance in the morning and then we’ve got a full schedule of trail rides today.” “Oh,” she says under her breath,

Turning to face her, I look at the space surrounding her for more bags. “Anything else?” She shakes her head. “That’s all I brought.” “I meant did you have any other questions, but that’s good to know,” I quip sarcastically. “I see you’re just as peachy as ever.” “Since when has anyone called me peachy?” Mare rolls her blue eyes at me. “It’s a figure of speech, Cade. Trust me, if anyone knows how much of a dick you are, it’s me.”

It shouldn’t excite me. Yet, it does. I prop my arm against my truck. I don’t bother hiding the lingering look I give her as I observe her from head to toe. Marigold Evans. My Goldie. Fuck has she changed since the last time I saw her. She was nineteen and eager to see what else the big world had to offer. She had freckles on her face and a slight sunburn on her forehead. Now, she stands in front of me with pain in her eyes and skin shades lighter than back then. She’s different now in so many ways, yet she’s somehow exactly the same.

Her hair isn’t as light as it used to be. Probably because the sun isn’t beating down on it during long trail rides like it used to. It’s sad to see her typical golden locks not shining like they used to. “Are you going to keep staring?” Mare asks, interrupting my thoughts. It’s probably for the best. I slap the truck, smirking at her as I shake my head. Pippa’s always scolding me about how I need to smile more, especially when it comes to customers. I’ve told her countless times that my face wasn’t meant to smile. Yet, I’ve been in the presence of Mare for five minutes, and I’ve already caught myself smiling more than usual.

She and Pippa were glued at the hip growing up, which meant I was also always around her. I never admitted it, but I liked it. She and Pippa were the only kids on the ranch. We had to wait for school days or for customers to see anyone else. It’s only natural how close we all used to be. “Get in the truck.”

“I’ll call an Uber.”

“Marigold,” I chide. “I know it’s been a long time since you’ve been home, but you know how it is. It’s off-season. You could be waiting for a car for hours.” Her hands find her narrow hips. “I guess I’ll wait.” A frustrated growl falls from my lips. “If I don’t return home with you, Pippa will kill me. You know that. I know that. So get in the damn truck.”

My head falls backward with a defeated sigh. I don’t have the energy to do this with her. I turn to face her, taking a long, slow breath. “Get in…please.”

Just when I think she might do as she’s asked, she raises her chin defiantly and looks me square in the eye. “No.” “No?” “I don’t want to get in the truck with you, Cade.” “I don’t remember asking what you wanted.” “Well that makes sense because you never cared about what I wanted.”

Ouch!

“Get in the damn truck or I’ll put you in there myself. Either way, I’m not fucking leaving without you.”

To prove a point, I step closer to her. Her hands instantly come between us in an attempt to keep me at a distance. “Fine!” she yells, taking a step away from me. “I’ll get in the truck.” She’s silent as she slides into the seat and closes the door. I get in, yanking my door closed.

“I’m so sorry about Linda, Cade.” Her voice shakes as she squeezes my leg. My hand falls to hers instinctively. For a few moments, the rest of the world fades away, and it’s just Goldie and me again. Things aren’t complicated. It’s just her hand in mine and the feeling of immense comfort. The angry tension is gone, at least for the moment. For a few short seconds, I remember why I gave her the nickname Goldie in the first place. Aside from it being a shortened version of her name, she always reminded me of the sun. She brought light into my life. And for right now, even if it’s only for a brief moment, she brings a little bit of light into a darkness. My thumb brushes over the top of her hand once before she pulls away, and the connection is broken. I swallow through the lump of emotion stuck in my throat.

I brave a peek at him from the corner of my eye. He’s only gotten better looking with age. Why can’t he look silly in a backward cap? He’s closer to thirty than he is twenty. He shouldn’t look so damn hot in something he wore as a teenager. I don’t even want to take the time to really get to know the new, defined muscles that line his arms. I wish it wasn’t off season and the weather wasn’t so nice. Then I’d see him in his usual flannel shirt or weathered sweatshirt, both options keeping his improved physique a secret.

“How’s your dad?” I ask, leaning back in the seat to get more comfortable. Cade whistles under his breath. “Terrible. I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like he’s there but not there, you know?” I nod, staring at the mountains coming into view through the windshield. There’s snow on the very top, greens and grays covering the rest. “Yeah, I do,” I whisper.

Cade’s knuckles hit the dashboard. “Shit, I’m sorry. If anyone knows what this is like, it’s you.” I swallow, trying to keep my emotions at bay. Truthfully, the hardest part about losing Momma was seeing Daddy’s reaction to it.

😢

Sometimes when you’re grieving you don’t want to be told things will get better. You just want to feel the pain without people making false promises. With death nothing gets better. They’re still gone. Things just get more tolerable to deal with. “There’s nothing to be sorry about. I asked because I wanted to know. Because I care.”

Because I’m a masochist—and apparently enjoy being hurt when it comes to him—I decide to ask. “What’s on your mind?”

“I was just thinking how much she’d love to know that you’re back. If it were under different circumstances, that is.” His voice is low and much more hoarse than it was before. There’s still a hint of anger to it, but it’s a soft kind of angry.

“I should’ve come back more.” He nods, fixing the ball cap on his head. “Yeah. You should've.”

Ouch!

The truth is, I don’t have a good enough excuse to explain my absence. At the time, I thought it was the only excuse needed. My heart was broken, and I couldn’t face the man who broke it. I thought because Pippa came to college with me, and I saw Linda and Jasper when they came up to visit, that everything was fine. Pippa went back to Sutten when we graduated, and I told her I couldn’t go with her. I’d secured a major book deal, on the first book I wrote, shortly after moving to Chicago. Life got busy, my heart didn’t heal, and I never got the nerve to return to Sutten. But I should have. Every time Linda called to catch up, I could tell she wanted me to come home. If I wasn’t so selfish, I would have. Deep down, I knew I’d always feel hurt, no matter how much time passed. If I would’ve pushed past it I wouldn’t be living with the deep regret I am now, knowing my time with her was cut short.

I’m so busy being angry with my best friend that I don’t notice the body coming out of the tack room. I barrel right into him, almost knocking the saddle in his hands to the ground. “Woah!” Cade calls, balancing the saddle in one hand and using the other to steady me. “You talking to yourself again, Goldie?” I look up at him, eyes wide when I notice the open button up T-shirt he wears. And what he doesn’t wear underneath it. God, why does he have to have perfect abs? And why do I want to memorize the feel of them? “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I argue, putting my arms over my chest defensively. His lips twitch as he attempts to fight a smile. It doesn’t work for long. He shows off his perfectly white teeth as he shakes his head at me. “You talk a lot. It’s probably a talent how much you can talk when nobody is listening.”

Mare - age 16

“I really don’t talk that much.” I scurry out the doors, coming to a halt when I notice the two horses tied to the hitching post. My head tilts in confusion. “Are you going for a ride?”

Cade places the saddle on Tonka’s back. Weird. He normally rides Ranger. Reaching under Tonka’s belly, he fastens the girth before answering me. “No. But I figured you and Pip were for your birthday. I just got back from checking the trails for the night. Figured I’d get the horses ready for your birthday ride.”

“We were supposed to go for one. But she’s asleep. I figured I’d go alone.” Cade watches me carefully from over Tonka. Normally Pippa rides Tonka and I ride Dolly, which makes sense because those are the two horses he has tied to the post. The only problem is the fact that Pippa is fast asleep in her bed. “You aren’t riding alone,” he sternly says.

“You’re not the boss of me, Cade Jennings.” “Who else is going to tell you when you’re doing something stupid?” he counters. “I could ride these trails in my sleep and you know it. I’ll be fine. It’s summer. The snow has melted. It hasn’t rained in ages. Again. I’ll. Be. Fine.” “You’ll be fine because you’re not going alone.” Cade loops the reins around Tonka’s saddle horn. He looks to Dolly, who is already tacked up and patiently waiting to go out. “Yeah?” I argue, placing my hands on my hips. “And who’s going to go with me? Because I’m not missing it. It’s my birthday after all.” “You won’t be going alone because I’m going with you.”

When our eyes connect again, he’s buttoning up his shirt, his focus solely on me. I flex my fingers anxiously, wondering if this is too good to be true. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?” “Nowhere that’s more important than celebrating your birthday,” he answers. The rasp in his voice sends tingles down my spine.

Oooppp!!

“You don’t have to,” I argue weakly.

“I’m fine being alone.” He rolls his eyes. “You hate being alone.” I fight my own eye roll. Damn Cade. He knows me too well. “I hate feeling like a responsibility even more.”

“You aren’t a responsibility. Now, let’s go.”

Dolly lets out a loud neigh, making me jump. Cade laughs. “You tell her, Dolly. I thought we were going to go for a ride, but Goldie seems to be happy just checking me out.” I slide my foot in and heave myself over, adjusting my position in the saddle. “Stop fooling yourself,” I chide. “I wasn’t checking you out.” Cade repeats my same motion, throwing one leg over Tonka’s back until he’s seated in the saddle. “You were definitely checking me out.” He clicks his tongue, coaxing Tonka away from the hitching post. “Let’s go.”

Lol

I tear my gaze from him, not wanting to be caught staring at the bulging biceps fighting against the sleeves of his shirt. “What do you need from me?” I ask Pippa, following her through the large wood front doors. Pippa takes a deep breath, leading me to the expansive kitchen. She points to a counter full of photos, papers, and catalogs for different packages from the funeral home. “I need a lot, honestly. But most importantly, I was wondering if you’d maybe speak at the service?”

Pippa must notice the color leaving my face because she chews on her lip nervously. She looks away from me and focuses on the photos of her mom laid out on the table. “You just have this way with words that no one else has.” “Written words. I don’t know if I’m good at the whole saying it aloud thing.” Pippa’s shoulders slump as her eyes focus on a picture of her mom holding baby Cade. “Will you at least help me write something that I can read?” As terrifying as it is to stand up at one of those podiums again and address a crowd full of people, I don’t want Pippa to have to go through it since it’s clearly something she isn’t comfortable with. “I’ll write and read it,” I assure her, squeezing her shoulder. “But will you read it once I’m done to make sure I’m saying what you want me to say?” Pippa’s eyes fill with tears. She wipes at them immediately, not wanting me to see them. That’s Pippa. She’s headstrong and extremely confident. She’d much rather people not know her emotions, to not see her falter, even if it’s in the instance of something as tragic as this. She and Cade are more similar than they’d care to admit. “I’m sure anything you write will be perfect, but of course I’ll read it.”

“Where should I take the bags?” Cade’s interruption has Pippa and me turning to face him. “I can stay at my old place,” I offer, not wanting to get in the way of them. They’re all grieving, the last thing I want to do is to be a bother to them. Cade and Pippa share a look. “Cade is staying there now,” Pippa explains nervously. “We kept it for you for a while after your daddy left, but something had to be done with it and you didn’t come back. Then we uh, kind of rebuilt it. The wood was bad and we wanted to add extra rooms and bunks for staff to sleep. But it’s been Cade’s place while he finishes up with his own house. We’ve both been staying in the main house anyway, just so Dad isn’t here alone.” “Duh,” I breathe, swatting the air. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m good with any of the guest rooms.”

“How’s he doing?” I ask, unable to help myself. Despite Cade always working closely with their father so he can take over the ranch one day, he was still a momma’s boy. He was sweet to her. If anyone could pull him out of a bad mood it was his mom. He’s got to be hurting. But in typical Cade fashion, you’d never know it. “You know Cade,” she answers sadly, picking up a picture of Cade and Linda from when he was a baby. “He won’t really show—or tell us—how he’s feeling. But I know it’s not good. All he’s been doing is working.” “That doesn’t surprise me.” “He was the one to find her.”

Oh that’s awful!!

“I was at work, and Dad was on the trails. Cade stopped by for a morning coffee with Mom. It’s something they’d been doing for a few years. She’d been on him for working too much. One of the paramedics, someone who stops by the bakery often, told me Cade had given CPR on his own for at least thirty minutes until they arrived. Since then he’s just been…quiet.”

😭😭

My eyes travel to the stairs again, shocked to see Cade leaning against the wood bannister. His expression is unreadable. I wonder how long he’s been listening to our conversation. He hadn’t been there when I looked not too long ago. He’s the only person I know who can walk so quietly in a pair of heavy cowboy boots. I rip my gaze away from him, not wanting to look at him longer than necessary. “So what are we doing with the photos?”