Chapter 13
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1871
A cool breeze rustled through the trees near the half-finished house. Buck moved through the skeletal frame, his fingertips tracing the rough wood. The setting sun cast an orange glow through the open living room window, offering a glimpse of the ocean beyond.
"Shouldn't be much longer now," Buck murmured, his voice heavy with grief. "Enough to get started on the inside at least."
He'd poured his heart into this house, envisioned it as their haven. The master bedroom and living room framed perfect views of the ocean, while the kitchen and dining room looked out onto the peaceful forest behind. He'd even splurged on indoor plumbing, a detail that had brought a radiant smile to her face.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. It had become a ritual, seeking solace within these unfinished walls, speaking to Halona as if she could hear him. "I miss you. I pray you find your way back me, back to us."
Gone. That was the brutal reality. He had to be strong, not just for himself, but for the children. Two wives, both ripped away too soon. After losing his first wife, he'd mourned deeply, never expecting to find love again. Then, through some stroke of fate or divine intervention, Halona had appeared in his life. A smile touched his lips as he recalled the first moment he realized he was falling in love with her...
Buck frowned. "What's so funny?"
"I'm never going to get home," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He rose from his chair and walked towards her. Kneeling by the window seat, he took her hand in his.
"Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "If California is what you truly want, I'll take you there."
"You would take me all the way to California?" She looked into his eyes sadly.
"Of course," he said, squeezing her hand.
"You're probably the kindest man I've ever met." A sad smile touched her lips. "But it wouldn't change anything. I don't belong here, Buck. Can't you feel it?" Her words hung heavy in the air, a silent plea for understanding. "This place, this time…" she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "It's all wrong."
Silence descended once more, thick and heavy. Then, to his surprise, Halona leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was unexpected, a surge of emotions bottled up and suddenly released. He responded instinctively, pulling her close.
The thought of love was something Buck wanted to avoid. His heart, already scarred, felt too fragile. But Halona had breached his defenses. Despite her initial declaration – choosing "home" over him – Buck couldn't hold back the tide of affection that swept over him. He loved her fiercely, and eventually, she chose him.
The most unbearable part was the uncertainty. Was she alive? Did she return to her own time, leaving him behind? Had she simply vanished, her existence erased? The logic of these questions mocked him, but no alternative explanation fit the bizarre circumstances surrounding her disappearance. He believed her story, every fantastical element of it.
His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, finding solace in the smooth coolness of silver. Her pocket watch was a constant reminder of her presence. Holding it brought a sliver of peace, even as tears welled up in his eyes. The once pristine watch had become a symbol of their shattered life together. The crystal was shattered, the hands frozen in time, the clasp broken.
Buck clutched the watch to his chest, a sob escaping his lips. He couldn't let the children see him like this, so he sought refuge within the unfinished house – their future that would never be. Here, in this shell of a dream, he could talk to her, even if it was just an echo in his own mind.