Chapter 8: Small Town Scandal

After word got out that I was marrying Marcus, someone trashed my place first thing the next morning. The front porch was littered with broken glass and angry scribbles in chalk. Welcome to small-town drama.

I sat on the porch eating a bagel, listening to someone yell. The cream cheese dripped onto my jeans as I chewed through the noise.

"Rachel Walker, you stole your sister’s fiancé, and you’ve got the nerve to eat breakfast here!" The neighbor’s kid, all of sixteen and hopped up on drama, waved a plastic bat in the air.

"Take a look in the mirror, what makes you worthy of the Carter heir?" The crowd was getting bolder, emboldened by numbers and the safety of daylight.

Josh Walker glared at me and sneered, "If I were you, I’d never show my face again." He puffed out his chest, playing tough for the onlookers.

I rolled my eyes, too tired to answer. I focused on my bagel, wishing everyone would just disappear.

Josh has always been a hothead, always blowing up for no reason. I’m used to it. The town called him "Firecracker Walker," and not in a good way.

He’s just someone else’s pawn. You could see the strings if you looked close enough.

Sure enough, Lillian Walker showed up late.

She wore a crisp green dress, looking fresh as a spring morning. Her hair was done up just so, and she smiled at everyone, even as she took in the mess.

In the bleak winter, seeing Lillian was like a breath of air. The crowd quieted as she stepped forward, her presence smoothing ruffled feathers.

"Josh, don’t start trouble," Lillian said softly. Her voice was the kind you trusted, the one you’d follow out of a burning building.

Josh stood beside her, sulking. "You were supposed to marry Marcus. But Rachel butted in and stole your engagement."

Lillian looked at me, her eyes a little mocking. There was a challenge in her gaze, one I wasn’t ready to meet.

She sighed, "It’s fate, Josh. Don’t fight with Rachel over me anymore." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, looking every bit the perfect daughter.

"I don’t have a sister like her!" Josh shot me a glare.

As if anyone would want a brother like that. I tossed my napkin at his shoes, not caring if he noticed.

Honestly, this marriage thing—I still needed to figure out what Marcus really wanted. His silence was louder than any vow.

Getting married in a mess like this didn’t feel right. I glanced at the crowd, wondering how many would show up at the wedding just for the free cake.

Ignoring Josh, I headed to Marcus’s room next door. My boots thudded on the hardwood, a steady beat in the chaos.

Josh, like a piece of gum on my shoe, trailed after me. He never knew when to quit.

As soon as I walked in, I heard a familiar voice.

"Marcus, to be honest, the one you were supposed to marry was my oldest daughter, Lillian. Rachel just leaned on her granddad’s favor and forced her way into this. Sigh... there are things I shouldn’t hide from you. Ten years ago, Rachel got lost and ended up God-knows-where. When we found her, she was a wild girl who could barely read. After getting lost, she lived with outlaws for years. Some things, as her mother, I shouldn’t say, but..."

I kicked open the door and said flatly, "But what?" My voice was sharp, slicing through the awkwardness in the room.

My mom didn’t answer. She looked at the floor, her hands twisting a handkerchief. I said, slow and steady, "You just want to say I spent years with bandits, always around a bunch of men, and I’m not clean anymore." My voice was low, but it carried all the way down the hall.

After I called her out, my mom’s eyes filled with tears, but she straightened her shoulders, refusing to back down in front of Marcus. The tension hung between us, sharp as broken glass.