Page 3 of Rewrite Our Story

At least until we meet again like she promised.

In a field of marigolds.

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

Cade Jennings is never soft. Even at thirteen, he’s rough around the edges. Our mommas always joked about how wild and untamed he was. Like the mustangs us kids love to observe from afar. I’ve never quite seen Cade’s eyes go soft the way they are right now.

Time seems to stop as he reaches over and wipes the tears off my cheeks. He looks at the water that’s now on the tip of his thumb. “What do you need?” he whispers into the dark. “How can I take away the pain?”

“Momma,” I croak, closing my eyes, hoping maybe if I squeeze them tight enough the world will disappear and I’ll never have to remember the way Daddy sounded when his heart broke—how he sounded when my momma left us. “She’s gone.”

His arms wrap around me and pull me into his chest before I can get any other words out. In the next breath he’s dragging his soft comforter over our heads, blocking the rest of the world out.

I don’t know how long he holds me as I cry. The thing I’ve always liked about Cade is that he doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. He’s so much quieter than I am. He prefers to observe rather than to interject. Right now, I’m grateful. I’m glad he doesn’t try to fill the room with words that don’t mean a thing in these circumstances.

“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.

1

MARE - FOURTEEN YEARS LATER

What isit about airplanes that make people forget about all semblance of personal space?

We’ve only just landed on the tarmac when every person next to me stands up, despite the fact we’re at the back of the plane. We won’t deplane for another ten minutes at the very least, yet I’ve got all three passengers from the row behind me leaning over my seat and breathing on me as if huffing and puffing down some stranger’s neck will help everyone else move faster.

I’d had to book the flight in the middle of the night after my best friend, Pippa, called me sobbing. There weren’t many choices of seats for a flight at seven the very next morning. I’d had the wonderful luxury of sitting in a middle seat between two strangers; neither adhered to the armrest rules—AKA the person in the middle gets at least one armrest. It's just human decency in my own little humble opinion.

The phone vibrating in my lap snaps me from my thoughts. I look down at it, holding it close to me so the hoverer in the window seat next to me doesn’t read my texts.

PIPPA

I checked the app and saw you just landed. I can’t wait to see you!

MARE

I’ll text you as soon as I’m through baggage claim. You know how it is here. I’ll probably be awhile.

PIPPA

Sounds good. Love you, Mare. Thank you for coming.

MARE

I wouldn’t be anywhere else.

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.

Pippa had been in shambles when she’d called me with the news. I was in the midst of a writing retreat when I received the call. I’d been desperately trying to finish the book that was due to my publisher but I dropped everything to be here. I hadn’t been lying to Pippa when I’d said I couldn’t imagine myself being anywhere else. Even though I left the small town of Sutten Mountain for college, it’d always be my home. Linda was a mother to me. She picked up where my own mother left off when she passed away, and she filled the void in my heart effortlessly.

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