Chapter 6: Family Ties and Broken Vows

Actually, I had business in Maple Heights.

Savannah had a drought this year, and folks could barely afford groceries. The shelves at the general store were empty, the produce section wilted and bare. All the highways for shipping food were locked down because of the crackdown on crime. The local radio crackled with reports of food trucks turned away at the state line.

I used the sheriff’s connections to reach out to the rich folks at Treasure House, hoping to use their trucks to get food in. But they said no. Money talked, but mine wasn’t loud enough.

The deal fell through, and not wanting to waste my trip, I figured I’d swing by the Carter mansion to break off the engagement. But fate had other plans. The Carter family was wiped out overnight, leaving only Marcus. The mansion’s windows were dark, the garden overgrown—a ghost of its former glory.

Marcus said flatly, "Ten years ago, the governor had General Walker executed and sent my grandfather out west to take over the militia. But before he got there, one night the whole regiment just vanished, and the general’s house was empty. The governor was furious, investigated for years, but nothing ever came of it. Cold case."

He looked at me: "Rachel Walker, you’re General Walker’s granddaughter, aren’t you?"

I wasn’t surprised Marcus figured it out. He was always sharp, even as a kid. Nothing got past him. When I saved him, I used arrows made by the western militia—a family signature. Benny had a western twang and callused hands, clearly an old soldier. Anyone paying attention would’ve seen it.

Now that we were almost to Savannah, I didn’t bother hiding it from Marcus. There was no more running, only facing what came next. After all, Marcus’s uncle was one of us. The lines between family and friend blurred long ago.

He only had one way to go. I felt a weight settle in my chest. Marcus wasn’t just a job anymore—he was family, whether he liked it or not.

I shrugged, "That lousy governor will get what’s coming to him one day." My voice was hard, the promise of payback lingering in the air.

Ten years ago, the governor made up charges to steal the western regiment and our lives. The old Carter tipped us off, and my granddad ordered the militia to go undercover as outlaws around Savannah. Our family escaped to Savannah and hid out at the sheriff’s place. The city was a maze of secrets, every alleyway holding a memory of loss.

Back then, the old Carter made one request: that I get engaged to Marcus. It was more than a favor—it was an insurance policy, a binding tie between families.

Marcus said softly, "Rachel, if old General Walker knew you kicked me when I was down and bailed on me, breaking off the engagement after my family was ruined, what would he do to you?"

I shivered all over. My skin prickled with dread at the thought of my granddad’s disappointment. My granddad would’ve tanned my hide. He had a way of making you feel small without saying a word.

God help me.

When I went to break off the engagement, the Carters hadn’t gotten in trouble yet. I hadn’t planned for any of this. Not the scandal, not the danger—definitely not Marcus staring at me like he could see straight through me.

That sneaky Marcus, threatening me now.