9. Sutton
9
SUTTON
The week passes too fast. Before I can get my feet under me, it’s Friday, and Laine and I are spending our last evening in the city on her fire escape, sitting cross-legged. The scattered gleams of the city lights dance like fireflies—yellow, white, and red. The sounds of New York are lively, even though it’s past sunset, from honking horns to the discordant music of a street busker and the rumble of traffic. I inhale, noting the scent of nearby restaurants, exhaust from cars, and Laine’s perfume. I want to remember every detail of the city when I go back to Montana.
Beside me, Laine is going through her packing list, triple-checking everything on it before handing it over to me. “Are you sure there’s nothing else I need?”
I glance it over. “You’re bringing six dresses?” I look up to see Laine nodding enthusiastically. “You know we’re going to a ranch, right?”
“To a wedding on a ranch. I need options. I packed plenty of casual clothes, too.”
I shake my head slowly, fighting a smile. Laine has casual clothes, sure, but she never looks casual. Her style is so unique, with bright colors and patterns and plenty of texture. I never know what to expect from her, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen her wear the same exact outfit twice.
Looking back at the list, I ask, “How are you going to bring five different hats?”
“I’ll pack the beret and baseball caps in the suitcase, and I’ll wear the two brimmed ones on the plane.” She folds her arms over her chest. “There’s no rule against wearing two hats in an airplane.”
“Six pairs of shoes?”
“My red cowboy boots, ballet flats, two pairs of heels, Mary Janes, and sneakers.”
“Laine…”
“Sutton…” she says, mimicking my exasperated tone. “You know I can’t make up my mind on much of anything. Are you really that surprised to find out that I’m a chronic overpacker?”
“Fair.”
“Besides,” she continues, “how many books do you have packed up for the trip, even though you have a fully-stocked Kindle?”
I laugh. “Alright, another fair point.”
For a while, we sit in the silence—at least, the relative “silence” of the city. Laine fiddles with the raw-edge hem of her pants. When she looks at me, I can see the questions behind her wide, dark eyes.
“I need to hear about your family,” she murmurs, reaching over to squeeze my knee reassuringly, her fingers brushing across my skin. I clear my throat, momentarily lost in the gentleness of her gaze.
I close my eyes for a few slow seconds.
“If we’re going to pull off the fake-dating thing, we need to talk about things that a couple would,” Laine insists .
“Well,” I begin with a heavy breath, “my father, Hank, is the epitome of a tough cowboy.”
“And you two don’t get along?”
I shake my head once, squeezing my eyes shut against the memories that flood back. “He’s not a bad guy. Rough around the edges, sure, but he’s not violent. He’s like…quiet thunder. A bit scary and rugged, but not dangerous like lightning. He thinks about the ranch—Silver Ridge—all day, every day. It’s his entire world. It isn't a job for him—it's a way of life. He's poured his heart and soul into that land, and he taught all of his kids to do the same. But there were moments when I felt like I was suffocating, like the vastness of the ranch was closing in on me.”
I turn my gaze back to Laine, my voice softening even more. “That's when I knew I needed to step away. I wanted to experience something beyond the endless solitude. That's how I ended up in New York.”
Laine nods, and I can see her fighting to stay quiet. It doesn’t come naturally to her, but she tries.
“I’m closer to my mom,” I explain, and Laine’s mouth shifts into a smile. I can practically hear her thoughts: finally, some good news . “Her name is Magnolia, and she’s a total sweetheart. We used to love reading together…or cooking, or gardening, or riding horses. Really, anything relaxing was right up her alley. She used to own the dance studio in town before Cassidy took it over.” Laine’s eyes widen. “Yes,” I confirm. “ That Cassidy.”
“Do you miss her?” Laine asks. When my face twists up, she clarifies her question. “Your mom, I mean.”
My lips pinch into a tight smile. “Definitely. She and Frankie come out a couple of times a year to visit me, but it never feels like long enough.”
“And Frankie? What’s she like?”
I sigh, wondering how I can sum her up. “Frankie is… amazing . She’s outgoing and fun and has the most contagious smile.”
“Does she have your dimples?”
“Hers are better.”
“Impossible,” Laine says, her eyes reflecting the city lights. “Does Frankie work at the ranch?”
“Part-time. The rest of the time, she’s at the local radio station. She bought it right out of college. It’s small, but she’s always loved music, so it’s a good fit.”
“Is Wells as much of a jerk as I imagine him to be?” Laine asks, bumping her shoulder against mine to try to make me smile.
“Probably more,” I joke. “He’s outgoing, like Frankie, and was a total flirt in high school. And a troublemaker. He used to get into all kinds of trouble. Maybe he still does. I don’t know. He wants to take over the ranch, last I heard.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
“More power to him,” I scoff. “So long as it’s not me.”
Laine nods again and opens her mouth before closing it. She repeats that motion three times, and I already know what she wants to ask.
“You want to know about Duke?” My voice is soft, catching on his name.
Laine scoots closer to me, tipping her head down so it rests on my shoulder. As usual, my initial reaction is to shirk away from the physical touch. It’s been so long since I’ve had someone show their care in that way. But I settle in, leaning my head down atop hers. Warmth spreads across my face. I forgot how nice it is to be close to someone like this.
"Duke was the golden boy of our family," I say, my words thick. “It was like all the best traits of the family got blended into him. Hardworking like Dad, kind like Mom, outgoing like Frankie, charismatic like Wells—”
“Smart like you?” Laine interjects .
“I think it’s more like I’m smart like him. Duke was the one everyone thought would take over the ranch—the one my father had high hopes for. He was the oldest, after all.” I pause, struggling to put the weight of what I’ve been pushing away for six years into words. My chest tightens, and my pulse races. Laine, likely hearing my breaths quicken, sets her hand back on my knee, a silent source of comfort. I inhale slowly through my nose. “He had this way of lighting up a room when he walked in. People were just drawn to him. It was impossible not to like him…kind of like you.”
“Sounds like you two had more in common than you think,” Laine says.
“I wish. He loved the ranch, spending countless hours there, training and bonding with the horses. It was a part of him, you know? Then…apparently, one day, he didn't come back from a ride. He got bucked off and hit his head, and…I had just finished up my freshman-year finals when I got the call.”
Laine’s hand tightens around my knee, and I hear her let out a shuddering breath.
“Losing Duke...it unraveled our family,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. “My father…he blamed himself. Then he started blaming everyone else, too. And I—I was angry at everything, at the world, at myself for not being there to prevent it.”
Laine is silent for a few beats. “Sutton, what happened was not your fault.”
“Logically, that makes sense. But it doesn’t feel like that. Maybe I could have helped him after his fall. Maybe things could have been different. I think that’s why I’m so anxious about going back home. Like, if I’m back at the ranch, all those feelings of guilt will bubble back up.”
“It’s a good thing I’m excellent distraction,” Laine says. “Whenever you start to feel down, just tell me, and I’ll do something ridiculous to get your mind off it. I don’t know—ride a mechanical bull or something.”
I try to laugh.
She lifts her head to look at me, her eyes full of mischief. “Anything to keep your mind off the heavy stuff. Plus, I've always wanted to try one of those things.”
“Why settle for a mechanical bull when we’ll have the real thing? I have a feeling you'd conquer it with your usual enthusiasm,” I reply, the heaviness of the conversation momentarily lifted by Laine’s lightheartedness. As always.
“And you can cheer me on, just like you have been since we met.”
There's a warmth in her words that resonates within me. Despite the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future, Laine has been a bright spot in my life that I didn't expect.