Chapter 26: Wishy Washy
"Marcus. Marcus!"
The thin, reedy voice brought Marcus to a halt, his humming cut short as he looked around. To his right, an assortment of freshly-washed clothing hung from a line, the garments fluttering gently in the breeze behind the safety of a fence. Next to them leaned Margaret, her rheumy eyes bright as she gave him a toothless smile.
"Ah, Margaret," Marcus said, doffing his cap in a flourishing bow. "You're looking as lovely as ever."
"Oh, you flatterer!" The washerwoman flapped a hand at him. "Why, if I hadn't heard you were already spoken for, you'd have me think'n you might be interested in lil ol' me!"
Marcus blinked, pausing as he replaced the cap upon his head. "Spoken for?"
"Oh, don't be so coy," Margaret's eyes seemed to sharpen with interest. "I heard about the lil spat you had with Miss Myra the other day. Oh, to be young and in love again! Why, there's nothing quite like it!"
Marcus grimaced. Evidently, the woman's grapevine of gossip was even better than he'd given her credit for. That hadn't even happened within the town. "Yes, well… saying I'm 'spoken for' may be putting the cart a bit far before the horse."
"Keepin' yer options open?" Margaret chided. "I'd be careful of going down that path, mister. That's a quick way to find yourself in heaps o' trouble. And besides, a man like you could certainly do worse than Myra. Why, she's just about the prettiest girl I ever did see in this town of ours!"
Marcus's smile tightened. That last part was certainly true, from what Marcus had seen. Still, being a standout in Habersville didn't mean much to him. Even the best bakers here couldn't hold a candle to the average corner shop in any major city. He could easily find better options elsewhere—and had, plenty of times. Though he had no intentions of settling down anytime soon, either.