SWNOVELS Rewrite Our Story: Chapter 2
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.
Mare scrunches her nose at me. If it’s an attempt at a snarl, she epically fails. It’s much cuter, and far less intimidating than I think she intends it to 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.
I wait as Mare stares down at her phone. Pippa said it’d be best if Mare didn’t know I was going to be the one to pick her up. At first, Pippa had intended to do it. But the funeral director had questions for Dad, and he didn’t have it in him to answer what kind of casket or what flowers she preferred, so he delegated it to Pippa. I don’t exactly have an eye for details—not in the way Pippa does—so she was the easy option.
Staring at the woman in front of me, I almost wish I was the one going over the funeral details. At least I wouldn’t be spending the next two hours in a car with a woman who clearly hasn’t forgotten the scars of our past.
“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,
“Is there anything you didn’t pack?” I heave the larger suitcase in the truck bed. It’s heavier than I was expecting. “How much did you pack?”
“I wasn’t sure how long I’d be staying…”
I scowl, turning around to face her. “Hopefully not long.”
She anxiously chews on her lip as I tear the other suitcase from her grip and gently toss it in the bed of the truck.
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.”
Damn. She’s going there already. Apparently living the big city life has strengthened her backbone. The Marigold that left for college and the Marigold glaring back at me right now are two very different people. This new version of her has way more bite, it seems.
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. My gaze is drawn to her lips first. They’re still puffy, the bottom one plumper than the top. If she were to smile at me, she’d no doubt have the deep dimples on either side of her face that had, at one time in my life, driven me wild.
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.
Maybe it’s the familiarity. For all the bad between Mare and I, there’s still a lot of good too. 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 round the hood, opening the door and loving the fresh scent of new leather. I saved up for ages to get my own truck; one that didn’t have the Jennings Ranch brand on it. As much as I love the work trucks, and I still mostly drive those as I prepare to take over the family business, I wanted something that was my own.
Apparently, Mare doesn’t seem to have the same sentiment. In fact, she seems peeved that I’m not driving the same old truck she remembers from five years ago. People walk behind her, all going about their own lives, while she stares daggers at my pride and joy.
“I’ll call an Uber.”
I fix the baseball cap on my head, flipping it backward so I can slide a pair of sunglasses on. “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.”
Her feet stay planted.
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.”
Her eyes soften. When she takes a step toward the truck, I get a glimpse of the girl I used to know. For a few short moments, she doesn’t look angry with me anymore. In fact, she looks at me the way she used to. She watches me like she thinks I hung the moon. Like I can do no wrong. Sometimes I wish we could go back to old times. A time before I let her down.
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.”
Her words are like a kick in the gut. Years ago, we were in almost this exact same spot when she begged me to listen to her and what she wanted. We stare angrily at each other for a few more seconds before I let out a long sigh.
“Get in the damn truck or I’ll put you in there myself. Either way, I’m not fucking leaving without you.”
She looks me up and down, as if she’s trying to see if I’m bluffing.
I’m sure as hell not. The past few days have been shitty. Adding in the fact that I have to see her again, where we ended things of all places, means my patience is non-existent.
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.
My fingers tap against the steering wheel. With both of us in the truck, I know I should just shift into drive and go, but something stops me. I feel like there’s more I need to say to her, but I just can’t get a grasp on what I should say.
She beats me to it. With a long sigh, she slides her hand across the leather between us and carefully places it on my thigh. “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 was the one who found my mom in my parents’ bed. It should seem real that she’s gone, but somehow it still hasn’t hit me that we’re never going to see her again. Before I can say anything else, I throw the truck into drive and pull away from the curb, embarking on what might be the two longest hours of my life.