Rewrite Our Story (Sutten Mountain, #1)

by Kat Singleton

I both hate and am strangely comforted by having her back in this house. It’s contradicting. I can’t imagine having to go through all of these arrangements without her. She was like a second daughter to my mother. But I also hate being in her presence—of being reminded of the past.

At least they convinced Dad to join them. He sits in a chair next to Pippa, laughing under his breath at a photo Mare holds up of Pippa and me dressed as clowns for Halloween. Mare wipes under her eyes, tears forming from how hard she was laughing. “Oh my god,” she wheezes, waving the photo in the air. “How have I never seen this photo before?” She looks at Pippa. My sister smiles wide back at her. It’s nice, for a brief moment, to see the pain softened on my sister and father’s faces. They both smile at Mare. At least that hasn’t changed about her. She still has the natural ability to make people laugh, even in the midst of the most intense grief imaginable. “Probably because Mom knew how terrifying those costumes were,” Pippa remarks, shaking her head. Dad clicks his tongue. “No, she was fiercely proud of those costumes. It was the last year the two of you let her coordinate what you were for Halloween.” His eyes find mine. It might be the first time my dad has actually looked at me and realized I’m here since mom died. Every look before this he was incredibly distant. He’s been a shell of himself. “The next year you insisted on being a cowboy. I’d tried telling you that you’d be that for the rest of your life and to choose something different. But you insisted.” I shrug. “You want what you want. I was what, five?”

Marigold pulls a photo from the pile, smiling softly at whatever she’s looking at. I can’t see it from the other side of the long dining table. Whatever it is also catches Pippa’s attention. “I remember that day perfectly,” Pippa muses, resting her cheek against Mare’s shoulder. “That was the meanest pony.” Mare laughs, flipping the picture around so I can see it. Pippa isn’t the only one that remembers that day. We’d gone to the auction to get some ponies. Pippa and Mare had been begging for their own ponies. They both had their own quarter horses at the time, but it wasn’t enough. Every little girl wants a pony and the two of them were no different. “You insisted on bringing it home, even though it snapped at you every time you tried to put your hand near its muzzle.” Pippa gives Mare a look. Probably because even at eight years old, Mare was determined to take home that mean old pony, despite all the other younger, nicer ponies that were also there. “I felt bad,” Mare explains, running a finger over the picture of the three of us standing in front of the pony. The pony, one she later named Bits, looked pissed, while she looks at him lovingly. Pippa watches Bits with an anxious expression. I don’t stare too long at myself in the photo. Eleven year old me has his hand out, watching Mare carefully to make sure Bits didn’t try to bite her. “If I hadn’t brought him home, who would’ve loved him?” “No one probably,” my dad pipes up. “That thing was mean as hell to everyone but...

“He liked sugar cubes. The extra-large ones. Linda always remembered to keep those stocked for him.” “I think she secretly liked that old horse,” Dad says. “I always found her sneaking him extra food.”

Dad sighs, his eyes roaming over the photographs. It’s quiet at the table until he stands up and looks around at us. “I think I’m going to get some air.” The grief washes back over his face again, making his wrinkles more pronounced. There’s no hint of a smile left, only devastation written on his face. Pippa hops out of her chair. “I’ll go with you.” Turning to Mare, she wraps her arms around her. “You okay with that?” Mare nods. “I think I might get cleaned up and go to bed.” “Understandable,” Pippa answers. “I’ll see you in the morning.” It’s silent as they embrace for a few beats longer before they pull apart.

"Why do you look at me like you’re mad at me?” she whispers. Her knuckles turn white from how hard she grasps the back of the chair she stands behind. “That’s a loaded question.”

“I didn’t mean it to be,” she presses. My knuckles tap against the table in front of me. With a large exhale, I stand up. My feet get closer to her on their own accord. “You don’t know me anymore.” I know my words come out harsh, but I can’t help it with her. I am angry at her. There are so many reasons for me to be upset. The biggest one being I hate that after all these years apart, I still feel an intense pull toward her. “You don’t know what my looks mean. Maybe that’s just how I always look.” “Cade,” she says with an exhale.

Unable to resist, I pick up a strand of her hair, rubbing the end of the long tendril between my thumb and index finger. “I hate that you’re here. It’s you—but it’s not really you,” I answer hoarsely. “I’m still me, Cade.” I shake my head, focusing on the darker strands of hair. She’s all big city and no longer small town. The city doesn’t fit her. Not the way the small town does. “No. You aren’t. You’re not Goldie. I don’t know who you are anymore, but it isn’t the same girl that left. Not the one I—”

For the slightest moment, my knuckle runs over her exposed collarbone. It’s over as quick as it began. She swats my hand away, her narrow fingers wrapping around my wrist to keep me away. “Years have gone by. I’m not a teenage girl anymore. Of course I’ve changed in that regard.” Her blue eyes stare into mine. “But deep down, it’s still me.”

My eyes quickly look her up and down. With a disapproving sigh, I shake my head. “I think it’d hurt worse if you came back the same person. The Goldie I knew would’ve come back, would’ve visited. Maybe I’m relieved you're not the girl I used to know.”

The hidden meaning behind them was clear. She should’ve been home more. It broke my mom’s heart that she never came back to visit. It was low of me to bring attention to it, but it needed to be said. Really, I’m just angry with her because not only did she leave this place and leave Pippa and my mom behind—but she left me, too. And even though I told her to go all those years ago, I never could’ve imagined she’d take me so seriously.

Well she did! Now fix it!

“Of course I know you, Goldie,” he responds, his tone offended. “Did you expect something different?” I shrug, turning my attention back to the moon high above us. The stars are putting on a show tonight. They twinkle, as if they’re as excited as I am for what the late night will bring. “You just haven’t been around much lately.” Things seemed to shift right after he graduated high school. Truly, things may have already been changing before that. Regardless, him graduating really changed things.

Mare - age 16

“You know I’ve got to work,” he answers, his elbow bumping into mine as he lays all the way down next to me.

Cade sighs, the sound loud and dramatic compared to the quietness of the clearing. “Say whatever you’re thinking. You’ve got your lips pressed so thin I know you’re dying to say something.”

“Mare.” My name is said as a warning. “It’d just be nice to see you more. That’s all.”

“You’re seeing me right now.” His voice is low and husky. I don’t know why it’s said so quietly with no one else around. Heat flushes in my cheeks. “Yeah, but you’re only here because you feel bad for me.”

“You’re giving me more credit than I deserve. I’m not that nice. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be here.”

His full lips tilt up ever so lightly. He holds the lighter between us. “If Pippa had been awake she no doubt would’ve brought some homemade birthday treat for you, but I’m shit at baking, and wasn’t exactly prepared for tonight.”

Cade slides his phone out of his pocket, looking down at the lit screen. It’s one minute until midnight. One minute until it’s my birthday. “It’s your birthday, Goldie. Everyone deserves to make a wish on their birthday.” He flicks the lighter, a flame illuminating the space between us. He leans in closer, his breath hitting my cheek as he breathes out. Lifting his hand, he cradles the flame to protect it from the breeze around us.

His eyes flick to the phone on the grass in front of us. We both watch it as it turns to midnight. Cade looks back at me and smiles. I’ve never been more sure I’m in love with him. This isn’t just a crush. It’s the soul crushing kind of feeling, one I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to recover from. His lip twitches before he speaks. “Happy birthday, Goldie. Make a wish.” Leaning forward, I move my hair to my back so it isn’t in the way. I close my eyes, already knowing what my wish is going to be. I’ve never wasted a wish on Cade because it felt silly to wish for something that I couldn’t have. But the way his eyes lingered on my lips as my eyes fluttered shut had me thinking what-if. With a smile on my lips, I make my wish. I wish for Cade Jennings. I wish for him three times, hoping maybe the extra two times will be the reason it comes true.

Cade lowers his hand, tucking the lighter back in his pocket, never once looking away from my lips. “What’d you wish for?”

“If I tell you my wish, it won’t come true.” “That must be one special wish.” I laugh. If only he knew. “Only the most special.” Everything around us fades to black as he leans in closer. Heat washes over my body in anticipation. I think Cade Jennings wants to kiss me. And I’m desperate for him to. My eyelids flutter shut, my lips parting slightly, eagerly waiting for him. One second ticks by, and then another and another. When I don’t feel him press his lips against mine, I open my eyes, to find him farther away than he was. His expression has hardened once again.

Cade plucks a blade of grass from the ground, bringing it closer to his face. “We shouldn’t be out here.” Annoyed, I bring my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them. “And why is that?” “You know exactly why.” “Don’t be vague with me, Cade.” I’m shocked by the bluntness of my words. My head spins from the back and forth of the last few minutes with him. His features soften. As if he’s trying to drive me crazy, Cade pops off the ground. Before I can ask him what he’s doing, he’s bounding down a hill, only his head visible.

I raise an eyebrow. “What could you have possibly found out here?” One side of his mouth upturns. “A birthday present.” I stand up, wiping dirt and grass from the backs of my thighs. “For me?” Cade looks around us. “No. For Tonka. Is it his birthday?”

Omg lol!

Doing as I’m told, I close my eyes, eager to see what he found. My eyes don’t have to be opened to know he’s gotten closer. I can just feel him—sense him. “Open.” His voice is much closer. My eyes flutter open, focusing on what he holds in his hands. “A marigold,” I whisper, marveling at the vibrant flower clutched tenderly between his thumb and pointer finger. I look at him, silently asking if I can take it. He nods, handing the flower over to me. “I didn’t know we had any here.” He shrugs. “I guess we do now.”

Seems awfully convenient!!

“That’s the thing about marigolds. They’re all beautiful.” My eyes immediately find his. He just called me beautiful. Right? “Cade.” He softly takes the flower from between my fingers. I don’t protest. I can’t. Not after what he just said. Not with the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. His rough fingertips brush the tender skin of my cheek. He pushes all my hair behind my ear before he tucks the flower right behind it. He must feel the thump of my racing pulse against his fingertips as he cups my cheek. There’s the rough scratch of a callus from his thumb when he lets it brush over my cheekbone. “Thank you for spending your birthday with me, Goldie.” Cade Jennings may not have kissed me tonight, but even without the press of his lips to mine, I feel like he’s said so much without really saying anything at all. I don’t think I’m the only one who has felt the shift between us, but I just might be the only person who wants to act on it.

Her visitation was brutal. Everyone wanted to stop and talk. Some people even used the time to tell me they enjoyed my book and they’re anxiously awaiting the next one, which was wildly inappropriate. My father made sure to tell them so. He and his wife had three delayed flights, but they showed up to the visitation just in time. I’d been comforted by his presence next to me. We’d grown closer in the years since he moved away from Sutten. I think he needed to heal a bit more from Momma to be able to be a father again. I’ll never get back the time he was absent during my childhood and teenage years, but if Linda’s death has taught me anything, it’s to not dwell on the past. Dad and I have an unspoken agreement, we just don’t really talk about Sutten.

Cade holds a black tie in his hand, a sheepish look on his face. “Pippa told me I had to wear a tie to this thing but I keep fucking it up and I can’t find her to help me. I didn’t want to have to ask you, but you’re my only option.” I swallow and ignore his jab. “I’ll help.” “You will?” “Always,” I whisper, taking a step away from the mirror. The two of us meet in the middle, stopping in front of the four-poster bed of the guest room.

He’s all cleaned up for Linda’s funeral. Even the facial hair he’d been sporting when he picked me up at the airport isn’t as grown out as it was. There’s still a hint of it, but it’s trimmed and neater than it was a few days ago. The biggest physical difference about the Cade I grew up with and the Cade standing in front of me is his hair. It used to be overgrown and shaggy. Now it’s buzzed on the sides and only slightly longer at the top. I fight the urge to run my fingers through the dark tendrils. I wonder if they’re long enough for me to hold on to or if my fingers would just slip through the locks. Cade hands me the tie, pinning his stare above my head. I try not to focus on the veins on the tops of his hands. I want to trace them, feel them, and remember what it felt like to feel the rough skin of his fingertips against my skin.

The skirt of my long, black dress brushes over the tips of his shoes as I take a step closer to him. They aren’t the pointed tips of his typical cowboy boots. They’re nice dress shoes. Something I didn’t even think he owned. I loop the tie around his neck, pulling one side longer than the other. Neither of us say a word as I begin a Windsor knot at his neck. I’m finishing it up when he looks down at my work. “Look at that.” He scoffs. “You’re even more city than I thought. You’ve got that down to a science.” I roll my eyes. “It’s a tie, Cade. It doesn’t define anything about me.”

He gets a pass today but only today!

“Have you been tying a lot of ties? Let me guess. You were with a lawyer. Or no—an investor? That seems like your type.” My teeth grind against each other as I try to keep my mouth shut. I’d been casually seeing a doctor, but we’d ended things before I left for my writing retreat. I was supposed to be locked away finishing a book, I didn’t need a distraction. Matt took it well because we’d only been casual. Cade doesn’t need to know any of this. I know he’s hurting. He has the right to hurt. I just wasn’t expecting for him to come in and declare war with me before I’ve even had time to finish getting ready. “Are we really doing this?” I seethe, meeting his angry stare.

“No. Don’t tell me how many. I can’t take it. Not today.” God. Even when he’s being a dick, he has a way of keeping a grip on my aching heart. “I learned it on YouTube three months ago,” I admit. “When I was doing research for a scene I was writing.” I don’t tell him that I didn’t need to learn to tie a tie with Matt. He mostly left my apartment in the mornings wearing his white coat or a pair of scrubs.

“I can tie any knot with rope and somehow I’m fucking up a goddamn tie.” “The other knots are far more impressive,” I joke, trying to lighten the moment. I know nothing will be able to completely take the pain from his features, but I can try my best. The slight twitch of his lips tells me maybe it’s working. “There she is.” I crane my neck to look up at him. “What?” “I got a glimpse of the old Goldie. The one I was so⁠—” “You ready?” Cade and I both jump, taking steps away from one another like we’d been caught doing something we weren’t supposed to. Pippa narrows her eyebrows looking between the two of us. Whatever she’s thinking, she doesn’t say it out loud. “Well, I guess I have one less room to stop by,” she mutters. “Are we ready to go?” Cade clears his throat. “I am. I just needed help with the tie. You were nowhere to be found.” Pippa frowns. “Sorry, I was checking in on Dad. But he’s ready to go. I figured we could all ride together? Cade, you’ll drive us?” He nods, walking toward the door.

I run my hands down my dress. “I just need a minute to finish up and I’ll be down.” Before she walks out, I stop her. “Hey, Pip?” She turns to face me. The pain in her eyes has me bee-lining across the room and wrapping my arms around her. “I love you,” I say into her thick hair. “I love you so much and I’m here for you. You got that?” She nods, her body shaking in my embrace. “Whatever you need today, I’m there. If you need a minute, just leave. You owe nobody an explanation for how you feel today.” I let her sob into my shoulder. Pippa has been trying to keep it together for everyone, but eventually she was going to break. I didn't want her to be alone when it happened. Maybe the same could be said for Cade. I hold her until she pulls away and wipes under her eyes. She sighs, regaining composure. “Thanks for that, Mare. I needed it.”

It’s been hard to look anywhere but the coffin at the front of the church. I’m sick to my stomach over what it represents—the death of my mother. I shouldn’t have to help pick out my mother’s casket at twenty-seven. There’s still so much she was supposed to be there for in my life. My wedding. Coming home with grandkids. Dad fully retiring so they could travel more. She wasn’t supposed to go so early. I wasn’t ready to let her go.

“I thought you were going out tonight?” My mom’s voice breaks me from my wallowing. I shove my spoon into my bowl of cereal, taking an angry bite as my mom steps into view. I chew, swallowing the sugary cereal before answering her. “I’d planned on it,” I clip.

Cade - age 21

“What changed?” I shrug, looking back down at my bowl until she can read my frustration all over my face. “Just didn’t feel like it, I guess.”

“It’s not often that you’re home on the weekends,” she notes. “Actually, none of you are here. Now that the girls are in their senior year and having the time of their lives, I feel like everyone has vanished.” I grunt. Not wanting to talk about the girls. More specifically—Marigold. I’m all too aware of her plans. She seems to have them all the time now. Every boy in this town has been wanting to occupy her time. My mind flashes to a little over two years ago, when Goldie accused me of not spending much time at home. It’s a little ironic considering how I feel like I never see her anymore. She’s got school, friends, fuck…maybe even a boyfriend. I try not to pay attention to it. The problem is, Marigold Evans takes up way too much goddamn space in my mind. She’s my little sister’s best friend. Fuck, she’s pretty much my best friend.

“Honey?” My mom’s voice breaks me from my thoughts. I look up, finding her holding a piping hot mug of tea. I must’ve been spacing out longer than I thought. I move to get another spoonful of cereal, but it has become soggy in the meantime. Pushing the bowl away from me, I try to soften my features as I focus on my mom. “Sorry, I don’t know where my head was at.” I know exactly where my head was. I just don’t want to admit that to her. My mom gestures to the front door. “Sit on the porch with me?” I nod.

“Did you know the girls are going to Bucky’s tonight?” This catches my attention as I take a seat in the rocker next to hers. “They’re barely even old enough to go there,” I snap, maybe a little too harshly. It’s confirmed my words may have come out sounding a bit too harsh by the rise of my mother’s eyebrows. “You know they’ve been dying to go there since your sister turned eighteen.” She takes a sip of her tea. “Marigold has been nice enough to wait to go until Pip was old enough. I’m shocked they didn’t go last week for your sister’s actual birthday.”

“It’s really not that great of a place. It smells like smoke and the music is terrible and always played way too loud.” My mom laughs. “Honey, that’s kind of the point. It’s an old bar and pool hall. There’s not much else to it.” “Well, they’ll be let down. They can’t even drink. Buck won’t serve anyone underage.” “Something tells me they’ll still have a blast—and probably get into some sort of trouble. I thought you’d be there to keep an eye on them, if we’re being honest. You love that place.”

“I heard Marigold tell Pippa that your friend Brendan asked her on a date.” “Brendan is too old for her,” I bite. If he touches her, he’s as good as dead. Even if he’s one of my oldest and closest friends. He needs to look at girls his own age, not focus on girls still in high school. He’s always asked far too many questions about her. Now it makes sense—he’d been interested in her. “Maybe you should stop by there and check in,” my mom offers softly.

Maybe your Momma wants you to date Marigold!

“It’s best I don’t,” I clip, keeping my ass planted in the chair. Just as Brendan has no right to Marigold—I don’t either. I’d no doubt cause trouble by showing up, and I’m not trying to ruin my sister’s birthday celebration. She’d never let me forget it. “Cade?” Mom says my name cautiously, catching my attention enough to look in her direction. “Yeah?” “It’s okay to feel something for her.” My stomach plummets. Mom has always been observant, I just didn’t think my mixed feelings when it comes to Marigold had become so obvious. I shake my head. “It’s not like that.”

Smart Momma!!

Mom hums under her breath. “Whatever you say, honey. Just know I’m here if you ever need someone to talk about it with.” Relieving me from having to respond, my mom reaches toward the table next to her. With a click of a button, she turns on the old stereo that Dad used to keep in the barn.

Eventually, one of Mom’s favorite songs comes through the speakers. She hums along as her chair squeaks from the rocking motion. I set my tea down and stand up to face her. “Dance with me?” She looks shocked. “Oh honey, you don’t have to do that.” We both know that it’s an unspoken rule in the house that when this song plays on the radio, Dad is supposed to stop whatever he’s doing and dance with her. He’s at an auction a few towns over, not here to keep up with his end of the deal. So I decided to take his place. “Mom,” I say with a smirk. “This is your favorite song. Let’s dance.”

Thats so sweet!!

Mom smiles widely up at me, her hand squeezing mine tight. “I remember when you were so small that you had to stand on my feet to dance with me.” “It was probably better then. At least I didn’t step on your toes.” She sighs, shaking her head. “You’re an excellent dancer.”

After a few more songs, we both take a seat in the chairs on the porch. “Thanks for that, honey.” “Happy to drop everything and dance with you anytime,” I say, picking up an old beer bottle cap from the table and spinning it between my fingers. For the next hour, Mom and I sit on the porch and talk about life. It’s a reminder that even though I still live at home, I need to do better at spending time with her. We sit on the porch long enough for Pippa and Marigold to return home. “How was the night?” Mom prods, putting an arm over Pippa’s shoulders. Pippa shrugs. “It was fine, but not as fun as I’d always imagined it to be. Right, Mare?” Mare wrinkles her nose, quickly pulling her eyes away from mine. “Not sure I see the appeal,” she answers honestly.

Before Mom goes inside, she lays a hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “I love you, honey. Thank you for making this a night to remember. It’s always the ones you weren’t expecting that end up being the best.”

So sweet!!

Cade doesn’t say anything. I want to ask him what he’s doing to process his mother’s death, but I keep the question to myself. Standing up, I throw my plate away and clean the small mess we made in the kitchen while preparing dinner. The mess takes no time to clean up. When I finish, I find Cade staring at me from his spot at the table. Turning the sink off and wiping my hands, I give him a hesitant smile. “Need anything?” His cheeks hollow out as he sucks in a large breath. “Another loaded question.” I fold the hand towel to give myself something to do. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“Okay,” I whisper. Cade stares at me for a few more drawn out moments before he sighs and heads toward the stairs. I watch his every move, fascinated in all the ways he’s changed from the last time I saw him. His shoulders are much wider, his legs thicker. There’s so much more muscle to him than there was before. It’s all obvious, even underneath the formal attire he wore to the funeral. I don’t know which Cade I liked better. This more rugged, toned, closed off version of him that I barely know or the leaner, softer side of him that treated me like I hung the moon. Cade doesn’t look back at me once and I have to accept the fact that it hurts, even when I know it shouldn’t.