Chapter 15

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Isaac scrunched his nose as Halona stirred lemon juice into the flour. "Are you sure these won't be sour?"

Halona chuckled. "Trust me, Isaac. These lemon bars are going to be aaaaaah-mazing!"

Megan, the eager helper, scurried over with a bag of sugar. "Here you go!"

"Thanks, sweetie," Halona said, expertly measuring the sugar and adding it to the bowl. "Now, once this is all mixed, we pour it into the crust we made."

"This is so cool!" Megan exclaimed. "Where'd you learn how to make these?"

A shadow flickered across Halona's face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "My mom and I used to bake them together all the time."

Isaac's gaze softened. "Do you live with your tribe in California?"

Halona shook her head gently. "Actually, I was adopted when I was a baby." She ruffled Isaac's hair. "Here, can you crack those eggs in for me?"

Isaac's eyes widened. "Really? I get to do it?"

"Absolutely," Halona said with a warm smile. "Go for it."

"I don't remember my mom," Isaak said, his attention fixed on cracking eggs.

"That's too bad." Halona stood beside him, wrapping a comforting arm around his shoulders. "Not even a little bit?"

"Sometimes," he mumbled, his voice thick with emotion, "I think I remember what she was like. But maybe it's just the picture Papa has of her."

The kitchen door swung open with a bang, and Patricia's disapproving voice filled the room. "What in the world are you three up to in here? This place is a disaster!"

Before anyone could answer, Megan piped up, "We're making lemon bars!"

Halona quickly ushered Isaac and Megan toward the counter, helping them pour the vibrant yellow mixture into the waiting pan. "Alright, into the oven it goes!" She declared, sliding the pan onto a rack.

Patricia huffed. "Well, goodness knows this kitchen needs tidying before dinner." She shooed the children outside, their shouts of "Hide and seek!" Soon echoing in the distance.

Feeling a pang of loneliness in her heart, Halona wandered along the fence to the barn. She approached one of the horses, its sleek coat catching the afternoon sunlight. Reaching out a tentative hand, she gently stroked its velvety nose.

The crunch of boots on the hard ground broke the silence, causing her to start slightly. A saddle thunked against the railing, followed by a throaty cough announcing his arrival. From beneath the brim of his hat, Buck regarded her with an unabashed grin.

"Makin' some new four-legged friends, I see." His rich baritone carried a note of amusement as he approached with long, purposeful strides. "What are you doin' out here?"

"I got evicted from the kitchen," she replied with a shrug.

Buck chuckled, reaching out to wipe a streak of flour from her forehead. "Oh?"

Halona blinked, momentarily distracted by his touch. "Yeah," she admitted with a sheepish smile. "I think I make Patricia uncomfortable, but your horses don't seem to mind the company."

"Neither do I." He raised an eyebrow, his smile widening.

"Good to know," she responded, a warm flush creeping across her cheeks as she forced herself to meet his gaze. Buck's smile broadened at her reaction.

"I promise I didn't burn the place down," she added hastily.

"Mhmm," Buck nodded with a bemused glint in his eyes as he placed a hand on her shoulder and led her through the garden.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?" He responded.

"What happened to Isaac and Megan's mother?" Halona's voice was soft and tender.

Buck swallowed hard, the question dredging up old pain. "She died giving birth to Megan."

"I'm sorry." Halona's eyes softened.

He studied her, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "Why the sudden interest in my former wife?"

"I don't mean to pry," Halona mumbled, her gaze dropping to her boots. "Isaac mentioned her today."

"He did?" Buck raised an eyebrow.

"He asked about my mom," Halona explained, "and then he said he didn't remember his."

A deep breath escaped Buck's lips as he began to speak. "Isaac was barely two when it happened." He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture betraying his emotions. "I met Norah after the war. Sweet girl, soft-spoken, with the patience of a saint. We married quickly, and Isaac came along soon after." His voice softened. "The delivery... it was difficult. Norah was so fragile afterward."

He paused, collecting himself. "We hadn't planned on more children, but then came Megan. I worried... I almost lost them both. By some miracle, Megan survived."

"I'm so sorry," Halona whispered. "I can't imagine."

"Thank you," Buck replied, his voice barely audible.

Seeking a change of subject, Buck's eyes were drawn to Halona's ears. "I've never seen jewelry like that before," he said, gesturing towards her piercings.

Halona's hand flew up subconsciously, touching the multiple small diamond studs.

"Is it a Shoshone custom?" Buck asked, curious.

"No," she laughed softly. "I didn't know my biological parents. I was adopted. My parents were both white."

"Oh," Buck replied, taken aback. He considered her answer, even more confused about the piercings. "What are they for, then?"

"Fashion, I guess," Halona shrugged, nervously fidgeting with her tragus ring.

"Fashion, huh?" he mused, his voice soft with curiosity. "Never would've thought of putting so many holes in my ears for looks."

Halona's fingers continued to play with her tragus ring, a nervous habit that Buck found oddly endearing. He stepped closer, gently taking her hand in his to still her fidgeting. The touch sent a spark through him, warm and unexpected.

"They suit you," he said, his voice low and sincere. His eyes met hers, and for a moment, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of them.

She swallowed, her breath catching slightly. "Thank you," she whispered, not pulling her hand away.

The air between them felt charged, filled with unspoken possibilities. Buck knew he was treading into unfamiliar territory, but something about Halona made him want to explore it.

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the stable, Buck realized that while he could never forget his past, his heart was slowly opening to a future he hadn't expected – one that just might include the woman standing before him.