Chapter 21

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona surveyed the backyard with a satisfied smile. Half an hour of giggling and snowball fights had resulted in a lopsided yet charming snowman. The crisp winter air, however, held a bite, and rosy cheeks signaled it was time for a warm-up.

"Alright, munchkins, inside!" She called out, ushering the bundled-up children towards the back door.

"What's a munchkin?" Megan giggled.

"Um…" Halona laughed and shook her head realizing they had no idea what the Wizard of Oz was. "It's a term of endearment for little ones like you!"

Hot cocoa and hastily prepared cheese sandwiches were the best Halona could manage, a stark contrast to the gourmet meals and convenient deliveries she was accustomed to. Halona winced internally. The implications of Patricia's dismissal hadn't fully sunk in. Laundry, while daunting, seemed manageable. But whipping up decent meals for a family? A cold sweat prickled her skin.

As if the universe conspired against her, the front door swung open with a bang. Buck, a flurry of snow and anxious energy, entered the room. A quick ruffle of each child's hair was followed by a determined stride towards the bedrooms.

"Papa!" Megan squealed.

"Finish your lunch, sweetie," Halona instructed, her eyes flitting towards Buck's retreating form. "What's going on?" She muttered as she hurried after him.

She caught up to him in the bedroom she was using. Buck, his brow furrowed in a way that sent chills down her spine, was rummaging through the dresser drawers. "What are you looking for?" She asked.

His movements became frantic. "Where are they?" He demanded, snapping open another drawer.

"Where's what?" She stammered, bewildered.

He spun around, his grip tightening on her hands. "Those clothes," he said, his voice low and urgent. "Your old ones. Where are they?"

Halona blinked, momentarily confused. "They're… on the shelf in the closet, I think."

Buck wasted no time. He strode towards the closet with an air of grim determination, flung open the door, and scanned the interior. Relief washed over his face as he spotted her old clothes, along with the small metal and glass pad. He scooped them up and marched out of the room, leaving a bewildered Halona trailing behind him.

A strangled cry escaped Halona's lips as Buck flung her clothes onto the smoldering pyre in the firepit. "No!" She shrieked, lunging for them.

Buck reacted instantly, his grip firm and unyielding.

"Get off me! How dare you?" Halona shrieked, her tone rising in both pitch and indignation as she wrestled futilely against Buck's insistent grip. "Those are my things!"

"I have to stop this," he ground out, the words laced with an urgent sort of worry that made her stomach twist. His jaw was rigid, brown eyes blazing with an emotion she couldn't quite place.

Confusion furrowed her brow as she stilled momentarily, searching his tense features. "Stop what, exactly?"

Buck seemed to struggle briefly, as if weighing how much to divulge. When he spoke again, his rich timbre was pitched low and hushed.

"Everyone in town is whispering about you... callin' you a witch."

Halona blinked at him owlishly for a suspended beat before the realization clicked. Then, she tipped her head back with a low, derisive chuckle - an airy, dismissive sound that skated across Buck's clenched features.

"Well, I've certainly been called far worse than that before," she remarked, arching one brow as a deluge of lurid tabloid headlines flashed through her mind. Whatever salacious gossip was making the rounds in this quaint little burg, it could hardly hold a candle to the depraved flights of fancy she'd endured courtesy of the Hollywood rumor mill.

"Take out the ear jewelry too." He held out his hand.

Her smile faded instantly.

"No," she covered her ears with her hands and took a step back.

"Hallie would you just do what I ask for once," Buck clenched his jaw and held his hand out. "Without questionin' me?"

Halona pressed her lips into a tight line, her jaw clenching with the effort of holding back a torrent of words. The urge to shout, to argue, to make her displeasure known bubbled up inside her like a pot about to boil over. But beneath the anger, a small voice of reason whispered that Buck's actions, frustrating as they were, came from a place of concern.

Halona's eyes locked with Buck's, the tension in her body visible as she took a deep breath. The air hissed softly through her nose as she exhaled slowly, her fingers working methodically to remove each earring. The tiny studs glinted in the fading light as she twisted off their backs.

"Here," Halona said finally, her voice was tight as she held out her hand. The collection of earrings sat in her palm.

Buck hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take them. The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken words and simmering tension. Halona swallowed hard, forcing down the bitter taste of acquiescence. She might understand, but understanding didn't equal acceptance. Not by a long shot.

"I ain't sorry about this Hallie," he growled, the words seeming to reverberate from somewhere deep in his chest. "We are barely tolerated in town by most, hated by some. You can't give them any fuel to add to the fire." His intense stare bored into her with an intensity that made her pulse flutter traitorously. "Don't you understand? I'm tryin' to keep you safe."

Something in his tone, that underlying desperation sheathed by a veneer of gruff protectiveness, finally penetrated Halona's ego. She swallowed hard, eyes drifting downward to survey the mottled red marks on her arms.

"You're... hurting me," she mumbled, hardly recognizing the frail, girlish cadence of her own voice.

Buck immediately released her, fingers trailing over her tender skin. "I'm sorry, darlin'..." he rasped hoarsely.

Halona's chest tightened as Buck spoke, each word heavy with pain. She looked up at him, really looked, and saw the weight he carried etched in the lines of his face. It hit her then, just how much he worried. Buck's eyes, usually warm and steady, now held a storm of emotions. His jaw was clenched, shoulders tense.

"Buck," she said softly, not sure what else to say. She wanted to reach out, to offer some comfort, but hesitated, unsure if he'd welcome it.

"You're really afraid, aren't you?" She asked softly, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair back into his braid.

Buck's voice was low, almost to himself. "I just can't shake this feeling. Like something's coming, and I can't stop it." He pulled Halona close, resting his chin on her head. "Hallie, I need you to level with me. What's this big secret you've got?"

He felt her take a deep breath against his chest. When she spoke, it was muffled. "It's not that simple, Buck."

"Hey," he said, easing back to look her in the eye. "Nothing's been simple since you showed up. But I gotta know what's going on."

She took a shaky breath, her eyes darting around like she was looking for an escape. "You're not going to believe me," she whispered.

Buck felt a chill run down his spine. Whatever she was about to say, he had a feeling it was going to change everything. He braced himself, but nothing could have prepared him for what came next.

"I promise, I'll believe you."

"I was born in California, but..." Halona paused, swallowing hard. "When I said I don't belong here, I meant it. I... I was born in 1995."

The words hung in the air between them, impossible and unbelievable. Buck felt like the ground was shifting under his feet, everything he thought he knew suddenly called into question.

"What are you saying?" Buck's voice was barely there, disbelief clear on his face.

Halona's words came out in a rush. "It was 2019. I was filming a movie. I drove into the desert, just like I told you, and that's the last thing I remember." Her voice cracked. "I don't know how it happened. Maybe I'm dreaming and can't wake up. Or in a coma from a car accident."

Buck held Halona close, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles on her back. The evening air had cooled around them, carrying the faint scent of sage and desert dust. He could feel her trembling against him, her breath coming in short, uneven gasps.

"How did this happen?" He asked, his voice low and steady despite the turmoil in his mind.

"I don't know!" Her voice cracked as she pulled back to look at him. Her eyes searched his face, no doubt seeing the mixture of disbelief and concern he couldn't hide. "I thought I was just out in a very rural area for months. I thought I was dead for a while and this was purgatory." She gave a humorless laugh. "When I found out who the President was, I started thinking I was just nuts. I'm still not sure on that one, to be honest."

She crumpled into his arms again, her body shaking with sobs. Buck held her tight, his mind reeling. Time travel was impossible, wasn't it? But it would explain so many of Hallie's quirks, her odd knowledge and strange gaps. Still, the idea that she was simply out of her mind seemed more... well, not exactly comforting, but at least more believable.

"So you don't know how to go back?" Buck asked softly, once Hallie's sobs had quieted.

He felt her shake her head against his chest.

Taking a deep breath, Buck steeled himself for the answer to his next question. "If you could go home, right now. Would you?"

Hallie lifted her head, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears in the fading light. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. It was tender, almost desperate, and Buck felt his heart clench.

"Yes," she whispered against his mouth, the word coming out like a sob. "I'm sorry."

The weight of her answer settled over them. Buck held her close, his own emotions a tangled mess of confusion, hurt, and a deep, aching love he couldn't deny. As the last light faded from the sky, he wondered what tomorrow would bring, and he prayed for the first time in many years for his family's safety.