Lost & Found - Yesterday, a young riders fanfic

LOST & FOUND

Yesterday

By: H Forbes

Adult SPICY Romance
Multiple explicit and very detailed intimate scenes, also explicit descriptive language.

Themes & Tropes
Love Triangle, Memorable Meeting, Morally Grey, Age Gap, Forbidden Love, Native Culture Lore

Content Warnings
Language, Violence/Blood/Gore, Substance Abuse, Murder, Child Abuse/Neglect

10/2024 - Edited for typos, New formatting

Chapter 1

Hacienda Colinas del Cielo, Texas 2019

The Texas sun beat down on the dusty set. Under the shade of a large open tent, Halona patiently waited for the latest tantrum to blow over. She stifled a smirk watching her assistant Sydney narrowly dodge a water bottle launched by Starla Cruz, the leading lady.

"What fresh hell did I miss this time?" Sydney plopped down, handing Halona a cold water.

"The daily episode of 'Her Royal Majesty's Petty Demands'." Halona rolled her eyes. "Costumes, makeup, you name it - nothing is living up to her standards."

"Girl needs to up her meds," Sydney quipped, earning a snort of laughter from Halona.

Thick as thieves since middle school, the two had been best friends. When Halona's rising fame necessitated an assistant and confidante, Sydney, the person she trusted most, naturally stepped up, leaving her marketing job behind.

"Five bucks says we shut down early today," Sydney wagered with a smirk.

Halona glanced at her watch. "It's barely noon."

"Just saying, I'd recast the whiny brat if I could."

"She's box office gold though," Halona sighed, frustrated but pragmatic.

Right on cue, Starla's shrill voice announced she'd be retreating to her trailer for the rest of the day. Moments later, the director confirmed the early shutdown.

"Pay up, bestie!" Sydney extended her hand triumphantly.

"Lunch is on me," Halona conceded, linking arms as they headed for the air-conditioned trailer. "This constant delay is gonna put me in a retirement home before we wrap filming."

"I'm not changing your diapers," Sydney chuckled.

"You haven't read the small print in your contract." Halona countered, a playful glint sparkling in her eyes. The blast of arctic air from the AC hit her as she entered the trailer, sending chills erupting across her arms.

"Mhmm we'll see about that." Sydney laughed as she flopped onto the couch and proceeded to search local attractions on her cellphone. After scrolling for a bit, she perked up. "Oh hey, this escape room thing looks fun! You know I love those."

"Yeah, well, I'm already trapped in my own personal hellscape at work," Halona deadpanned.

Sydney chuckled. "Fair point. How about grabbing drinks in that cute town we passed earlier? Do some retail therapy?"

"You are reading my mind!" Halona grinned, swapping into a breezy sundress. "I'm starving."

"Me too!" Sydney opened the trailer door and then turned back to Halona. "You wanna bring security?"

Halona chuckled, tossing her long dark hair into a loose bun. The warm desert air tickled her neck as she slid behind the wheel of her Mercedes. "Out here? Nah, it's fine," she said, adjusting her sunglasses.

The engine purred to life, and Halona tapped her iPhone, bringing up Google Maps. Sydney stifled a giggle, memories of their disastrous navigation through Arches National Park last summer flooding back like a sandstorm of nostalgia.

As they left the movie set behind, the open road beckoned. Miles of dusty landscape stretched before them, cell service fading like a mirage. Sydney fiddled with the radio, inadvertently blasting "Toxic" by Britney at full volume.

"Hell yes! Turn it up!" Halona squealed, her fingers drumming the steering wheel.

The girls' voices soared with the chorus, that nostalgic 90's pop energy jolting them both. The quaint downtown appeared on the horizon, a storybook scene of brightly-colored buildings. Halona parked with a satisfied click, the smell of spices and sizzling meat drawing them to a lively Mexican cantina.

As they stepped inside, a wave of warmth and the sounds of clinking glasses and laughter washed over them. The hostess, a smiling woman with a colorful flower in her hair, led them to a cozy booth near a window.

"Two house margaritas, please," Sydney said, barely glancing at the menu. "And some of those amazing-smelling fajitas!"

"Yes please." Halona nodded in agreement, her stomach growling in anticipation.

As they waited for their food, the girls fell into easy conversation, catching up on the gossip from set. The margaritas arrived, condensation beading on the salt-rimmed glasses.

"Oh, this is heaven," Halona sighed after her first sip, the tart lime and smooth tequila dancing on her tongue.

Their fajitas sizzled as they were placed on the table, the aroma of grilled peppers and spices making their mouths water. As they loaded up soft tortillas with meat and veggies, their chatter continued.

It was during a lull in the conversation, their plates half-empty and margarita glasses nearly drained, that Sydney's expression turned more serious. She dramatically declared, "Hold up, I need to post this," snapping a photo of her remaining food and drink.

"You're such an idiot," Halona giggled, reaching for her own glass. But as she sipped, she noticed the shift in Sydney's demeanor, a prelude to a more serious topic.

Sydney raised her eyebrows, her voice lowering. "Speaking of idiots... What's going on with Nick?"

"Mmmm," Halona cleared her throat, the taste of tequila had suddenly turned bitter. She stared into her glass, seeing reflections of the past year with Nick Morgan, lead singer of the band Tripping Upstairs.

Their relationship had been a rollercoaster of highs and lows, opposites attracting like magnets destined to repel. As Halona sipped her margarita, memories washed over her. She'd always been the quintessential California girl, but her journey hadn't always been smooth sailing.

The Harrington's - Roger, a renowned thoracic surgeon, and Rosemary, a woman of 'family money' - had adopted Halona as an infant, fulfilling Rosemary's dream of motherhood after cancer had nearly stolen it away. Halona flourished under their care, excelling in academics and sports alike. She could still smell the chlorine from swim meets, the satisfying thwack of her lacrosse stick.

Her mother's cancer had returned just as Halona was accepted into UCLA, but Rosemary had insisted she go. Halona's love for the outdoors, fostered through countless weekends hiking with her parents and camping at Lake Tahoe, had inspired her to pursue a degree in Conservation and Resource Studies. However, life took an unexpected turn when she stumbled upon a reality show casting call.

"You just got that far away dreamy look in your eyes." Sydney laughed and shook her head.

"Just thinking about how different life turns out than expected." Halona mused. "Remember signing up for 80 days?"

Sydney nodded, her eyes sparkling with the memory. "How could I forget? One minute we're gawking at the crowd, the next you're signing up for a reality show."

Halona's journey into the spotlight began with "80 Days," a high-octane reality show that took contestants on a whirlwind world cruise. At each port of call, participants dove headfirst into the local culture and traditions, all while tackling extreme adventure challenges both on and off the ship.

One day, Halona might find herself zip-lining through a lush tropical canopy. The next, she'd be scaling the ship's towering rock wall as ocean waves crashed below. The show sought to crown the most daring and successful adventurer, pushing contestants to their limits at every turn.

Though she narrowly missed clinching the top spot, her second-place finish proved to be a launching pad. The exposure and excitement of "80 Days" catapulted her into the dizzying world of show business, opening doors she never imagined possible.

The whirlwind that followed still made Halona's head spin. Reality TV fame, a music video, and then her breakout role in "Faded Footprints." An Oscar winning rom-com.

Then came... Nick Morgan.

Halona's mind conjured his image: wavy dark blond hair, piercing blue eyes, a jaw that could cut glass, and a body that would make Michelangelo weep.

The ultimate bad boy.

Halona and Nick's relationship burned bright from the start, but his temper flared just as hot. They spent a whirlwind three months in Paris, hounded by paparazzi at every turn. The constant attention only fueled their passion.

But when they returned to the States, reality set in. Halona settled back into her life in San Francisco, while Nick resumed his in Los Angeles. The distance gnawed at Nick's insecurities. Soon, his calls became more frequent, tinged with suspicion and jealousy. What had once felt exciting now left Halona on edge, never sure what mood she'd encounter when she answered the phone.

One night, Nick's rage finally boiled over. Fueled by alcohol and paranoia, he drove for hours from Los Angeles to San Francisco. Halona woke to furious pounding on her door, Nick's voice slurred and angry on the other side.

When she opened the door, things escalated quickly. For the first time, Nick's anger turned physical. The next morning, bruised and shaken, Halona filed for a restraining order.

Months passed. Nick's calls and messages shifted from rage to remorse. He begged for forgiveness, promised to change, to get help. Slowly, Halona's resolve began to crack. The memory of their passionate beginning overshadowed the painful end.

Against her better judgment and the worried advice of friends, Halona agreed to give Nick a second chance. She told herself things would be different this time, that people could change. She pushed down the nagging doubt in the pit of her stomach.

"I ignored all the red flags." Halona admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sydney reached across the table, squeezing her friend's hand. "Hey, we've all been there. Well, maybe not the 'months in Paris' part, but you know what I mean."

Halona managed a weak smile. "I really thought he meant it this time, you know? But then that video of his drunken outburst hit the internet, he was in jail again, and the media went crazy..."

She trailed off, staring into her nearly empty glass as if it held the answers to her tumultuous love life.

"Halo," Sydney said gently, "maybe it's time to write a new chapter. One without Nick in it."

Halona nodded slowly, feeling as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff, ready to dive into unknown waters. "Yeah," she said, her voice growing stronger. "You're right, I know. I'm so done with him."

"He's always been an asshole." Sydney rolled her eyes, leaning back in her chair. "Though, his abs are incredibly distracting." Sydney laughed, trying to lighten the mood.

A young server approached, her voice tentative. "Can I take these plates out of your way?"

Halona nodded, grateful for the interruption. As the server cleared their table, she found herself longing for a distraction from thoughts of Nick and the path that had led her here.

"Any good shops to check out in town?" Halona asked, ready to lose herself in the charm of this small town, if only for a little while.

"There's a fantastic wine-tasting place at the end of Main Street. There's a ton of antiques in town but truthfully, most are junk shops." She rolled her eyes. "There's a decent one on Juniper if you turn left at the end of the road. It's secondhand stuff, but they have a legit antique section in the back. Plus, the owner's family lives on a reservation, so he sells some Native-made crafts too."

"Are there reservations around here?" Sydney's interest was piqued.

"A couple south and west," the waitress explained. "Though if you're interested, there are more just across the border in Oklahoma. The Black Kettle Grasslands are close too."

An awkward silence fell over the table before Halona cleared her throat. "Thanks for the tips."

"I've never been to a reservation." Sydney turned to Halona. "We could go."

"Not interested." Halona took the credit card back from the girl and put it in her wallet. "That antique store sounds fun though - let's check it out."

Sydney shrugged, a silent understanding passing between them. Halona might be open about her adoption and heritage, but certain topics remained off-limits. Thankfully, the radio filled the short car ride, easing the awkward silence. As they approached the store, Halona reached out, placing a kiss on Sydney's cheek.

"Sorry I was short with you earlier," she offered with a smile.

"Was that a short joke?" Sydney teased back playfully.

Halona's chuckle dissolved into a surprised laugh. Sydney grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the store. As Halona scanned the racks of clothes near the entrance, her eyes snagged on a sight that stole her breath. There, nestled against the back wall, sat a magnificent Stickley chest. Her hand instinctively reached out, tracing the smooth, cherry-red surface.

"It's a beautiful piece," a deep voice startled her.

Turning, she met the gaze of Joshua Lightfeather, the store owner. Sydney, meanwhile, reveled in the racks of vintage clothing, her infectious laughter echoing through the store as she twirled in a vibrant "hippie skirt," as Halona teasingly called it.

While Sydney reveled in the past through fashion, Halona lost herself in the stories whispered by the old photographs lining the back wall. Images of a bygone era – a woman churning butter outside a simple cabin, a bustling town square in its infancy.

Halona sighed, a wistful note creeping into her voice. "Life sure seemed simpler back then."

"Simpler? Dude, for real? Shitting in the woods and no electricity." Sydney materialized beside her, a playful glint in her eyes. "No internet? No thank you!"

"No Taylor Swift." Halona laughed knowing Sydney was a true Swiftie.

"No Starbucks." Sydney doubled down.

"Touche." Halona chuckled. "Imagine life without Trump's Twitter meltdowns." But a flicker of seriousness crossed her features. "Still, it makes you wonder. Can you even imagine this world back then?"

Sydney shook her head, her smile fading. "Total nightmare. Women had zero rights, and even after slavery ended, equality was a distant dream. Your ancestors… well, history speaks for itself."

Halona nodded, a tight smile pulling at her lips. "Yeah," her gaze drifted towards the center of the store, drawn to the display cases overflowing with trinkets.

As Sydney traced a finger along the counter, Halona lingered by a silver pocket watch. Its intricate design whispered tales of forgotten journeys. Beside it, a pair of delicate pearl earrings shimmered.

"Those earrings aren't right for you…" Joshua's voice broke the reverie. "But, that pocket watch," He gently plucked it up, the aged timepiece gleaming in the soft light.

Halona felt a strange pull as she took the cool metal into her hands. A pleasant chill shot up her arm as she examined the watch's details, her fingers tracing the ornate pattern.

"There's a key to wind it up right here," Joshua explained, demonstrating the tiny key that fit into the watch's top.

"What are you going to do with a pocket watch?" Sydney teased.

"It's very pretty," Halona admitted, tracing the delicate filigree on the watch's face.

"All original parts," Joshua added, a hint of pride in his voice.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "You literally just bought a brand new Apple watch last month."

"But a watch like this," Joshua interjected, his voice gaining a philosophical edge. "It carries history and marks a new journey. It's a tangible piece of the past."

"I'll take it," Halona announced.

Sydney shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You're such a sucker for a good story."

Chapter 2

Hacienda Colinas del Cielo, Texas 2019

Halona stumbled out of the sweltering set, drained and irritable as all hell. Sweat clung to her neck as she chugged water, trying to drown out Starla's shrill voice demanding yet another pointless script tweak. Finally, the director's liberating cry of "Cut!" allowed her to beat a hasty retreat to her blessedly air-conditioned trailer. Slamming the door with a satisfying thud, she quickly changed into a paiwell-worn jeans and a soft, oversized knit top that hung off one shoulder.

Screw it - she was mixing a drink.

A generous pour of vodka into a glass of cranberry juice ought to dull the rough edges. Halona settled into the armchair with her beverage, each tart sip melting away the day's accumulated tension. That is, until Starla's unmistakable banshee wail pierced the peaceful ambiance.

Peering out the window, Halona witnessed her co-star in the midst of yet another meltdown, that shrill scream scraping against her nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Fuck it - she downed the rest of her drink in one burning gulp and snatched up the vodka bottle. She needed to get out of here.

The trailer door burst open just as Halona was making her less-than-stealthy exit. Sydney raised an eyebrow at the bottle in her friend's grasp. "Going somewhere with that?"

"Just...gonna take a drive," Halona muttered, unable to meet her concerned gaze.

"A drive?" Sydney echoed, her voice edging towards Mom Mode. "Well, let me grab a sweater and I'll…"

"Syd." Halona cut her off gently, placing a hand on her arm. "I just...need to be alone for a bit, okay?"

For a long moment, Sydney studied her face before finally nodding, the worry still etched on her features. "At least leave your location on then? You've got an early call tomorrow."

"Don't worry, mom." Halona popped the trunk and deposited the opened bottle of vodka.

Sydney couldn't help but laugh at that, rolling her eyes good-naturedly. "You're the worst. Just...be safe, okay?"

With a wink and a wave, Halona was out the door and peeling away in her car, the open road beckoning her. No destination in mind - she just wanted to escape for a while, to clear her head amidst the rhythmic thrum of the engine and Johnny Cash crooning through the speakers.

She didn't realize how many miles had slipped beneath her tires until the "Welcome to Oklahoma" sign loomed into view. Halona pulled off at a scenic overlook, grabbing the vodka bottle as she wandered to a grassy patch atop a sun-baked butte.

Kicking off her boots, she sank onto the soft earth, running her toes through the warm blades as she gazed out over the valley, an endless expanse bathed in fiery amber light. It felt good to just...breathe out here. To exist without the chaos and cacophony of Hollywood bullshit.

Cracking open the bottle, she took a deep gulp, the harsh liquor searing a blazing trail down her throat. A violent shudder racked her body as she coughed, the sound swallowed by the vast emptiness around her.

Using her jacket as a makeshift pillow, Halona stared up at tiny pinpricks of stars winking into view one-by-one, memories of bonfires and chasing waves along the shoreline as a kid flooding over her. She took another long swig, the alcohol's warmth blossoming through her chest.

As she shifted onto her side, something dug into her hip - probably a forgotten hair clip or pair of earrings from the day's shoot. But her fingers brushed against cool, aged metal instead. The pocket watch. A strange sense of comfort washed over her as she felt its rhythmic ticking echoing the steady thump of her heartbeat.

With a pang, she thought of her dad. How he'd barely held on seven months after her mom's battle with cancer took her, like his heart simply... broke without its other half. They may have been her adoptive parents, but they were her whole world. Her only family. And now that warm summer breeze, whispering through the valley grasses, carried the whispers of their memories alongside it. Halona took another burning sip as the first tears traced their way down her cheeks, the vodka dulling the edges of that hollowness inside.

Holding the pocket watch against her chest, she let her eyes drift shut, the vast night sky and endless stars enveloping her in their silent embrace. For a brief, blissful reprieve, she managed to escape the suffocating weight of Hollywood, her life, of reality itself.

Chapter 3

Oklahoma 1870

Halona's eyes cracked open, the harsh morning sunlight stabbing straight through her throbbing skull. She winced, trying to blink the blur from her vision as a wave of dread washed over her.

Shit, she was late.

Like, apocalyptically late for the morning shoot. This was a PR disaster waiting to happen - the kind of "difficult talent" story that followed you around forever.

"Ha daydl ahm?"

The deep, heavily-accented voice shattered her drowsy haze. Before Halona could react, rough hands clamped down like a vise around her arm, wrenching her into an upright position.

"Hey! Get off me!" She cried, yanking herself free and stumbling back several paces.

Five imposing men formed a tight circle around her, eyes narrowed. But it wasn't their stony expressions that made her heart leap into her throat - it was the array of very real, very deadly-looking weapons they gripped tightly.

Halona's fingers scrambled for her car keys as her eyes darted around the empty landscape, panic surging as she realized her car was nowhere in sight. A strangled cry escaped her lips.

"Haw tsoe aim kauhn?" One of the older men barked out a harsh accusation, unintelligible to her ears.

"Where...where did you take my car?" She stammered weakly, bile rising in her throat.

As if sensing her fear, a younger man in the group angled forward, studying her with an unreadable gaze. "What do they call you?"

"Halona...Halona Blackwater," she whispered, shrinking back.

He relayed the information in that strange tongue to the other men, who muttered among themselves before the older one addressed her again, his tone level but brooking no argument.

"'Eim- 'Ȟ."

The younger one's eyes flicked to her. "You come."

What choice did she have? Halona forced a shaky nod and took a hesitant step forward - only to feel herself unceremoniously scooped up and plopped onto the back of a waiting horse in one jarring motion.

She clung white-knuckled to the coarse mane as the animal took off in a gallop, the bizarre cluster of men giving chase alongside her. Trees and boulders whipped past in a dizzying blur until, finally, the breakneck pace slowed near the crest of a grassy hilltop. Halona dismounted on wobbly legs, cold sweat trickling down her spine as she struggled to make sense of the scene splaying out before her eyes.

Hundreds of people in buckskin clothing milled about a sprawling encampment dotted with towering teepees. This sure as hell wasn't some movie backdrop or historical reenactment - the details were too intricate, too viscerally alive.

Was she dreaming? Had she drunk herself unconscious and stumbled into some sort of twisted fever dream? Halona pinched herself hard, hissing at the sting. Nope, she was most definitely awake.

"Hey, Dances with Wolves!" She whirled on her apparent captor, voice shaking with a mix of fear and bravado. "What the f-"

"Toubei!" The man's booming reprimand cut her off, shrill laughter from the nearby women only fanning the flames of Halona's mortification.

Chest heaving, she turned pleading eyes to the younger man lingering nearby. "What did he just say?"

"Be quiet," the man replied flatly.

As the elders convened in hushed discussion, tears of panicked frustration blurred Halona's vision, mascara stinging her eyes as it mingled with the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. A woman's sharp voice suddenly pierced the air, sending a fresh jolt of fear through Halona's veins. But the young man just frowned, his gaze locked on her face with an inscrutable expression. Finally, one towering figure emerged from the group and extended a calloused hand towards her, his deep voice oddly melodic despite its gruffness.

"I am called Sáé Gúldáu. You can call me Red Bear."

With a roughened thumb he swiped away the makeup-stained tears from her cheeks, studying the black streaks on his digit with a faint frown.

"What tribe are you?" His question was laced with genuine curiosity, not accusation.

Halona blinked dumbly. "...Tribe?"

Red Bear's eyes narrowed as he scrutinized her foreign stance and her clothing. "You were raised by the white man, then?"

She gave a small nod, her throat tightening around the words. "I was...adopted by a white family, yes."

The older man grunted, his expression unreadable as the two studied each other in the stretch of silence. Finally, Halona found her voice again, pleading and tinged with uncertainty.

"Look...sir, I'm not sure what's happening here, but could you please take me to the nearest town? I can pay you, whatever you want, I just..." She swallowed hard against the quiver in her voice.

Red Bear shook his head, his obsidian eyes holding fathomless depths she couldn't begin to decipher. "Nearest white man's town is many days' ride from here."

A spark of desperation flared within her. "It's just a few miles down the road! Please..."

But the man's expression remained infuriatingly stoic as he placed one heavy hand on her shoulder, giving it a firm squeeze.

"Come."

As much as every thought in her mind was screaming at her to run, to fight, to wake up from this impossibly vivid nightmare... some deeper instinct told Halona to obey. Shoulders slumped in resignation, she fell into step beside Red Bear, casting one final look over her shoulder at the foreign, dreamlike landscape before letting it swallow her whole.

Chapter 4

Kiowa Village, Oklahoma 1870

"Son of a..." Halona hissed, jerking her hand back as the dull blade snagged her blistered finger, leaving a bead of crimson in its wake. She squeezed the wound tight, letting the blood wash away the caked-on grime as a slew of frustrated curses slipped out.

This whole damn situation still felt like some twisted, never-ending nightmare straight out of the depths of her subconscious. One where no amount of pleading or pinching herself would rouse her back to reality. A peal of laughter rippled across the camp from the group of women huddled around the nearby firepit. Halona risked a glance their way only to find them not-so-subtly pointing and gawking in her direction like she was the main attraction at a freakshow.

Rolling her eyes, she refocused on hacking the tough meat into manageable chunks for the simmering stew pot. Her gaze drifted to her hands - once meticulously manicured and softened with expensive cream, now calloused and cracked from weeks of nonstop labor. What was left of her manicure had been picked away ages ago.

The prickle on the back of her neck warned her a moment before she turned to find HIM - the one she'd mockingly dubbed "Dances with Wolves" early on - boring holes into her with that intense stare of his. He'd been watching her more blatantly these past few days, and a shiver of unease rippled through Halona as she quickly averted her eyes.

"Em á̱!" In a flash, his iron grip clamped around her forearm as he barked out that same harsh order again.

Fear detonated like a bomb in Halona's chest as he started dragging her across the dirt, straight for the entrance of the massive teepee looming before them. "No! Get off me!" She dug her heels in, clutching at the rough canvas with her free hand to anchor herself. "Keep your grubby paws to yourself, asshole!"

A guttural snarl rumbled from the man's chest as he leveled a finger toward the pile of furs sprawled inside the teepee. The realization of his intentions ignited a fresh spark of defiance within her.

"Go fuck yourself!" She spat the words directly in his face, punctuating them with a vicious shove.

Snarling again, the man launched himself at her, pinning her against the teepee's back wall with his body weight. His hot, rancid breath fanned over her face as he leaned in closer - Which was when Halona clamped her teeth down hard on his bottom lip, filling her mouth with the metallic tang of blood.

A feral roar exploded from the man as he recoiled, one hand flying to clutch his torn, gushing lip. Rage contorted his features in an instant, the other hand rearing back to deliver a vicious backhand that rocked Halona's head sideways with its force. She couldn't muffled the cry of pain as he grabbed a fistful of her dress, ripping the material down the back in one violent motion.

Oh FUCK! This was really happening!

Just then, a booming voice sliced through the chaos like a thunderbolt. The man recoiled, spitting out a venomous phrase before shoving her roughly to the ground and stalking off. She clutched the tattered remains of her dress to her chest as the teepee flap opened again to reveal... Red Bear.

Relief instantly flooded her body at the familiar, solemn face, as he and the man exchanged a heated volley of harsh words. Whatever was unfolding, tensions were running molten hot. At last, Red Bear emerged victorious. Nodding in solemn understanding, Halona fell into step behind Red Bear as he led them away from the crackling fires and prying eyes of the camp. They walked in tense silence until reaching a small group of braves already mounted on horseback, their stern expressions doing nothing to ease Halona's gnawing dread.

Next thing she knew, Red Bear was hoisting her up onto one of the massive beasts. With a series of barked orders and subtle cues, their small party set off at a brisk pace, soon leaving the teepee village behind in a billowing cloud of dust.

As the distance stretched between them and that wretched camp, a million worried thoughts spiraled through Halona's mind about where they could possibly be headed now. Were they planning to straight-up abandon her out here to die of exposure? Or did these men have something even more sinister in mind?

She wet her dry lips, mustering her nerve to break the heavy silence. "So... any chance you can tell me where we're going?"

From his mount beside her, Red Bear angled an unreadable look her way before simply rumbling, "Do not fear. You are safe."

Halona blew out a shaky breath, shooting a sidelong glance at the array of bows and long rifles slung across the men's backs. For better or worse, she was along for this ride.

Red Bear's gruff voice carried on the wind as he barked orders at a young warrior, then urged his horse forward at a leisurely pace. Ever since his warriors first found the strange woman alone in the wilderness those moons ago, she'd been a source of ceaseless consternation and unrest within the tribe. Her bizarre style of dress, erratic mannerisms, and those strange black tears she cried marked her as an outright outsider to be gawked at with deep suspicion.

The elders had fiercely debated her fate at great contentious length - some convinced she was an evil omen to be avoided at all costs, whilst others insisted she was blessed by powerful spirits. Red Bear kept his own counsel on the matter, though he knew in his heart she was fundamentally kind and tender of spirit.

He'd witnessed the stranger, cradling a young girl who tumbled in the dirt, offering the child a comforting embrace. From that moment on, his mind was made up about the outsider's fate. Now, with the situation escalating and hunting parties preparing for the hunt, the elders had reconvened to decide her fate once and for all. Banishment to the harsh plains was deemed too cruel, though taking her to the white cavalry's fort would surely mean death for any warrior foolish enough to approach it.

As the day waned, Red Bear pondered a new strategy. One that would safeguard the woman, shield his people, and extricate him from this unexpected situation. A subtle smile touched his lips. With a determined nod, he turned his horse west, into the fading sunlight.

Chapter 5

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Five days of bone-jarring horseback rides, dusty clothes, and a desperate need for a proper wash had Halona dreaming of a bubble bath so long it would erase this crazy journey from her mind. She was also dying to know why no one had come looking for her and what the media frenzy was like back home.

A speck in the distance grew larger, revealing a modest ranch and two-story house. Civilization. Relief surged through her. Yet, as they drew closer, it became clear Red Bear wasn't taking her to the town but to the ranch house.

"Where are we?" she called out, panic rising in her voice.

"My brother lives with the white men," Red Bear explained. "He will take you to their town."

"Great," Halona muttered.

So much for a quick escape. Now she was at the mercy of another stranger. At least, she hoped he had a phone. Hitchhiking? At this point, anything seemed preferable to another night in this hell she found herself in.

Red Bear called out to the man who came out of the house. "Hā́chò p'ah-be."

"Hā́cho."

Buck took in Halona's appearance - long dark hair, bronzed face, ripped white top, and tight blue jeans. She looked completely out of place, especially the way she awkwardly sat on the horse. Red Bear nudged the woman to dismount. Her legs shaky after days on horseback, Halona reached for the mane and slid down clumsily, her foot searching for ground several inches below.

Joyous shouts erupted from the house as a young boy, Isaac, and his sister, Megan, rushed out to greet their uncle.

"Ee taun, you're growing so fast," Red Bear said, ruffling the boy's hair.

"Me too!" Megan chimed in, arms up for a hug.

"Yes, you too ee tah," Red Bear laughed.

Buck pulled Red Bear aside. "Who is she?" He asked, glancing at Halona.

"My warriors found her while hunting." Red Bear explained. "They brought her to our village." He searched his mind for the English words, falling, he continued in his native tongue. "Ahdle koiye daw."

"What do you mean she's funny?"

Red Bear frowned, his disappointment in his brother was obvious. "Not funny," he signed and at the same time repeated himself. "owl koye daw."

"Crazy?

Red Bear nodded. "She had black tears."

"Black tears?" Buck's eyebrows shot up.

"Only once. She cried many times after, but never black tears again."

Buck watched as the woman knelt on the ground, a gentle smile softening her features as she interacted with his children. Turning back to his brother, he said, "While you're here, there are some supplies in the barn."

Red Bear bristled. "I do not need your charity."

"It's not charity, p'ah-be." Buck said, squeezing his shoulder. "Think of your women and children."

Red Bear nodded reluctantly and led his men to the barn.

"You gonna introduce me?" Buck smiled, patting Megan's head.

"Papa, this is Halona," Megan said.

"Buck Cross," he greeted, shaking Halona's hand.

"Halona Blackwater," she replied. "Sorry to bother you. May I use your phone?"

"Phone?" Buck echoed, amused.

"What's a phone, Papa?" Isaac asked.

Halona's heart sank. "You... don't have a telephone?" She almost laughed at the absurdity. She pulled out her iPhone. "I don't suppose you have a charger then?"

Buck took the phone, confused by the smooth, glassy object. He turned it over, rubbed the screen, then handed it back.

"When my brother leaves, I'll take you to town," Buck assured her. "For now, let's get you cleaned up and some fresh clothes."

"That sounds amazing," Halona sighed. "I'd kill for a proper shower after a month of creek baths."

Buck chuckled. "Isaac, show our guest to the... uh... shower."

Isaac's brow furrowed in confusion, mimicking the expression he'd seen his father wear countless times.

"Sure," he chirped nonetheless, eager to please. He skipped around the back of the house, gesturing towards a wooden stall with a large water tank perched precariously on top.

Halona stared at the contraption, skepticism written all over her face. "Oh!" She blurted, the image of a luxurious, porcelain bathtub dissolving before her eyes.

Isaac, oblivious to her disappointment, burst into a fit of giggles before skipping back inside. Halona sighed, a touch of despair creeping in. This whole situation felt like a scene straight out of a bad reality TV show. Bathing in creeks, outdoor showers? As she slipped off the moccasins and set them on the fence she giggled to herself, at least it wasn't Naked and Afraid. No one was going to believe her about this backwoods place.

She stripped off her filthy clothes, tossing them over the fence. She fumbled with the latch on the door and then turning to the piping. No faucets, no handles, no knobs, nothing. She scanned the contraption, her gaze finally landing on a long chain dangling from the water tank. Hope flickered. Maybe it was some kind of water pump system?

With a deep breath, she grabbed the chain and yanked it down with all her might. A torrent of icy water cascaded down, drenching her from head to toe. A surprised scream escaped her lips, and she scrambled to release the chain, narrowly avoiding another deluge.

Buck appeared with a towel and dress, grinning.

"It's freezing!" Halona shivered. "How do I make it warm?"

Buck just chuckled and handed her the towel and the dress.

"What's this?" she asked, holding up a bottle.

"Shampoo," Buck replied.

"Thanks," she muttered, more to reassure herself than to actually thank Buck. She glanced at his shiny, shoulder-length hair, the ends dancing in the breeze. Despite his rugged, outdoorsy look that screamed 'I-use-one-bar-of-soap-for-everything,' she couldn't resist asking, "Any chance you've got conditioner?"

Buck arched one questioning brow at the bizarre inquiry. "Pretty sure I don't." He gave the slightest shake of his head and walked back to the house leaving her to the shower.

Bracing herself, she reached up and yanked the chain again, this time being more prepared for the icy onslaught. Buck chuckled once more before heading back into the house, the sound of his laughter echoed in her ears.

Chapter 6

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet, her eyes roaming the room around her. The absence of modern conveniences struck her immediately - no television, no gadgets, just sturdy, well-worn furniture, and faded rugs covering the rough wooden floor.

Her gaze swept across the cozy space. A cast-iron stove dominated one corner, its black surface gleaming in the soft light. A handmade quilt draped over the back of a chair, the intricate pattern telling stories of patience and skill. A bookshelf lined one wall, filled with leather-bound volumes and well-thumbed paperbacks. The mantelpiece above the stone fireplace held an assortment of curious objects - a few small animal skulls, a deer antler, and a collection of smooth river stones.

The scent of leather and beeswax lingered in the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the cabin itself. Halona's fingers brushed against the rough-hewn table, feeling the grooves and knots that spoke of years of use. Her mind drifted to a documentary she'd once seen about homesteading Alaskans, drawing parallels between their lifestyle and what she was witnessing here.

The creak of floorboards announced Buck's return to the living room. He paused, noticing the strange guest studying a framed photograph on the mantel. Halona's nervousness was palpable, her discomfort enhanced by the ill-fitting dress that hung awkwardly on her frame.

"Doesn't fit too well," Buck chuckled, his voice warm with amusement as Halona struggled with the too-long sleeves. "Patricia's a bit shorter and proportioned… differently."

Halona turned to face him, a soft smile gracing her face. She nodded, grateful for the kindness despite her awkwardness. "Please thank her for me," she replied softly, her fingers still fidgeting with the fabric. A moment of silence passed between them, broken only by the distant call of a whippoorwill.

"Where's your family?" Buck cleared his throat.

"Both my parents passed," she murmured, offering Buck the obligatory uncomfortable smile that such admissions often required.

"Where are you from?" Buck's kind face creased with curiosity as he pressed on.

"California,"

"Are you Kiowa?" Isaac asked, his bright eyes peeking around Buck's legs.

"My parents were Shoshone," Halona answered, her voice softening as she addressed the child. She noticed how his eyes widened with interest, a spark of connection forming between them.

Isaac stepped fully into the room, his chest puffing up with pride. "We're Kiowa," he declared. The boy's innocence and enthusiasm brought a genuine smile to her face, easing some of the tension that had built up during Buck's questioning.

"You're a smart boy," Halona grinned. "How old are you?"

"Seven." He said proudly, then turning to his sister he pointed. "She's five."

"I bet you do great in school," Halona said gently.

Isaac's face fell. "We don't go to school," he mumbled.

"Let's hit the road," Buck cut in, holding the door. "Figured you'd want a break from horseback."

Outside, a wagon without a cover was hitched to a pair of horses. "What's that?" Halona asked.

"It's a buckboard," Buck explained, helping her up.

Doesn't anyone here have a car? Halona asked herself. The wagon creaked and swayed as it trundled down the dusty road, the rhythmic sound of the horses' hooves filling the air. She sat at Buck's side on the wooden bench, clutching the seat tightly.

Finally, Buck's curiosity got the better of him. "So, what brings you out here?" He asked, his voice casual but tinged with genuine interest.

"Work," Halona began, but her response was cut short as she winced suddenly. She scooted over on the bench, her hand searching for the source of discomfort. Her fingers found a thin splinter of wood pinching her thigh through the thin cotton dress.

Without thinking, she quickly pulled it out, her arm swinging wide and smacking Buck in the hip. Halona's eyes shot up, meeting his startled gaze. A flush crept up her neck as she muttered a soft apology and hastily repositioned herself on the seat.

Buck bit back a chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners with amusement. "What kind of work?" He pressed, steering the conversation back on track.

"I'm an actress," Halona admitted, a self-conscious laugh escaping her lips. She was used to being recognized instantly, her face plastered across magazine covers, her name a staple on every A-list party guest list. But here, in this dusty wagon under the vast open sky, she was just another stranger. The anonymity washed over her like a cool breeze, it was unexpectedly refreshing.

"Can't say I follow theater much," Buck replied with a good-natured chuckle.

"Movies, not stage," she smiled.

Buck looked confused. "I ain't seen one of those either."

"A Movie? You know, Hollywood? Big screens? Overpriced popcorn?" Halona searched his face, but there was no recognition. "Never mind," she sighed.

Buck grumbled something unintelligible, the words lost beneath the creak of wagon wheels and the steady clip-clop of hooves. His brow furrowed slightly, creating deep lines across his forehead. Halona felt a twinge of unease, wondering if she'd somehow offended him.

She slumped back against the rough wooden seat, her shoulders sagging. The borrowed dress scratched at her skin, a constant reminder of her displacement in this unfamiliar world. The silence stretched between them.

A peal of laughter broke through the tension, drawing Halona's attention to the back of the wagon. Her gaze fell upon Isaac and Megan, playing some sort of game with smooth stones. Their faces were alight with joy, small hands darting back and forth as they giggled and whispered to each other.

The sight of their innocent play tugged at something deep within Halona. A smile, genuine and warm, spread across her face. She turned back to Buck, her voice softening as she spoke.

"They're adorable," she said, gesturing towards the laughing pair. "your little ones."

"Thanks," Buck said proudly.

"Does your wife home-school them?"

"She died," Buck said quietly. "Few years back."

"I'm so sorry," Halona looked away, embarrassed.

"Thank you," Buck's smile wavered. "Isaac had trouble in school. I've been teaching them myself."

"He doesn't seem like a troublemaker."

Buck sighed. "It's tough for a kid with Indian blood. I'm sure you understand."

Halona felt guilty. Understand? Not really. Her wealthy SoCal upbringing was a world away from this.

"Shoshone, huh?" Buck asked.

"Mhmm," Halona nodded.

Buck squinted in the sun, thinking. He'd only met a few Shoshone, a once peaceful tribe that had turned hostile as more settlers took their land.

"Is that the town?" Halona pointed at some buildings shimmering in the heat haze.

"Ain't New York City," Buck chuckled.

Halona's hopes were dashed as they got closer. She'd been crossing her fingers for at least a tiny town with the basics. Even a crappy gas station would've kept that little spark of hope going. But damn, Halona felt like she'd stepped into some parallel universe or something.

Dirt roads everywhere, old wooden buildings with paint peeling off. The weird part was what was missing - no stoplights, no people rushing around, not even one car anywhere. Talk about a ghost town!

Halona's eyes searched for the comforts of modern life, finding none. No cell towers reached for the sky, no neon signs flickered in store windows. The silence was broken only by the distant neigh of horses and the creak of wooden boards.

"Is this an Amish community?" Turning to Buck, her brow furrowed in confusion. "Or Mennonites?"

The question hung in the air, as alien as she felt in this place frozen in time. Around her, the town continued its slow, steady rhythm.

"No, ma'am," Buck roared with laughter. "What makes you think that?"

"I'm losing my damn mind," she mumbled, then added quickly remembering that children were in earshot. "Sorry! Just... overwhelmed."

"It's okay," Isaac said. "Papa says damn all the time."

"Isaac..." Buck chided, amused. He patted Halona's shoulder. "Hey, you're alright."

Halona nodded, a tear rolling down her cheek. This wasn't a movie set or a prank. This was her reality, for now.

Chapter 7

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The sheriff's office smelled of leather, gun oil, and stale coffee. Jimmy sat behind his worn desk, boots propped up on its scarred surface, when Megan and Isaac burst through the door. The floorboards creaked beneath their eager feet, their eyes wide with excitement.

"What kind of trouble are you two little varmints into now?" Jimmy growled, his gruff tone belied by the playful twinkle in his eye.

"Nothin'," Isaac answered, though his mischievous grin suggested otherwise.

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, when the door creaked open again. Buck's broad frame filled the doorway, and beside him stood a young woman Jimmy had never laid eyes on before.

He would have remembered her face, that was for certain. Warm bronze skin seemed to glow in the afternoon light, high cheekbones accentuating large, full lips, but it was her dark brown eyes almost black, that were laced with a mixture of nervousness and confusion.

"Halona, this here's Jimmy Hickok," Buck said.

Halona smiled hesitantly, her eyes drawn to Jimmy's worn gun belt. The polished handle of his revolver glinted in the sunlight.

"She was found near the border about a month ago," Buck explained gently, his hand resting protectively on Isaac's shoulder. "Thought you might've had someone asking after her."

Jimmy shook his head, studying Halona with keen interest. His chair groaned as he leaned forward. "Nope," he said softly. Then, turning towards the stranger, he asked, "Where's your husband?"

"I'm not married," Halona answered quickly. "I had just parked my car and—"

"Car?" Jimmy echoed, his brow furrowing as he glanced at Buck. The word hung in the air, foreign and out of place. "Were you drinkin'?"

The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant call of a mourning dove and the soft scuffing of Isaac's boots on the wooden floor. Halona stood there, caught between two worlds, the reality of her situation settling over her.

"Yes, but..." Halona rolled her eyes, frustrated. "Look, I'm not crazy."

"I ain't sayin' that," Jimmy soothed. "Just tryin' to understand. Maybe you wandered after a few drinks, took a tumble. Explains the confusion."

Halona wavered. "Maybe," she sighed and turned to Buck. "Thanks for your help. I really appreciate it."

"You gonna be alright?" Buck asked.

Halona's hand rested on the doorframe, cool wood beneath her fingers. "I'll be fine," she turned, looking over her shoulder, "Thanks again, for everything."

"If you're ever in San Francisco," Halona added, a smile lighting up her face, "make sure you look me up. I'd be happy to show you and the kids around the city."

Her eyes then fell on Jimmy. "Nice to meet you," she said, nodding in his direction.

With a final smile, Halona stepped out onto the wooden porch and made her way across the dusty street. She passed by a hitching post where a few horses stood lazily swishing their tails, eyeing her curiously. The general store's weathered sign swung gently in the breeze, and the faint tinkling of a bell announced a customer's exit from the saloon down the way.

Back at the office, Jimmy moved to the window, watching the out-of-place woman make her way through town. "Border's a few days ride," he thought aloud, more to himself than anyone else. Turning back to Buck, he asked, "What were you doing out there?"

"My brother found her," Buck explained.

"Whatever she's running from," Jimmy mused, "must be one heck of a story."

"She's a little…" Buck chuckled, "odd."

"Don't matter if she's got a few screws loose," Jimmy grinned. "When a woman looks like that, a little crazy can be endearing."

"Keep an eye on her, would you?" Buck said seriously.

"I'll keep both of them on her," Jimmy smiled with a devious wink.

Chapter 8

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The saloon doors slammed open, hinges squealing. Jimmy, already tense after breaking up a bar brawl earlier, heard glass shattering. He shouldered through the swinging doors, hit by the stench of stale beer and whiskey. In a dimly lit corner, Halona stood between two troublemakers, Hank and Lester. Fear shone in her eyes as Hank leaned in, a broken bottle dangling from his hand.

"How's it going this evening, gentlemen?" Jimmy boomed. Both men flinched.

"Oh, everythin's just fine, marshal," Hank slurred, stumbling towards Jimmy.

"We're just havin' some fun with our new friend," Lester added, his arm around Halona's shoulders.

Jimmy's jaw clenched. "Leave her alone," he growled, "or you'll be sobering up in my jail cell on stale bread and water."

Hank scoffed, but his bravado faltered. Lester seemed emboldened. "We ain't done nothin' wrong, Marshal. Just havin' a little conversation."

Jimmy placed his hand on his gun, staring them down. Seeing the steel and determination, they mumbled apologies and retreated to the bar.

"Thanks," Halona smiled gratefully.

"Where are you staying?" Jimmy asked, concerned.

Halona sighed heavily. "Good question. The bank here is fucking useless. No ATMs, can't contact my bank. Not a single phone in town. Mine's dead, no charger..."

"Come on," Jimmy said, gesturing for Halona to follow. He led her down the street to where his horse stood, lazily sipping water from a trough. With gentle hands, he helped her into the saddle before swinging up behind her.

Halona grasped the horse's mane tightly. "Where are we going?"

"I made a promise to Buck to keep an eye on you," Jimmy replied, nudging the horse into a trot.

They rode in silence for about twenty minutes before arriving at Buck's ranch. Jimmy dismounted first, then helped Halona down. He approached the house and knocked softly. Buck answered promptly, nodding his thanks to Jimmy before ushering Halona inside.

"Guest room's back here," Buck said quietly, leading her past the children's rooms. He opened a door, revealing a neat room.

"I'm so sorry for the trouble," Halona said desperately. "I'll repay your kindness."

"Ain't no trouble," Buck patted her shoulder. "No repayment needed. I'm next door. Holler if you need anything."

"Thanks," Halona whispered.

Alone in the room, Halona peeled off the itchy dress, sighing with relief as the fabric fell away. She glanced around, taking in the modest furnishings. It was a far cry from the Kiowa village - the somewhat soft bed and woven blankets were a definite improvement over animal hides on hard ground.

Her stomach growled loudly in the silence, a stark reminder that she hadn't eaten in what felt like a full day. Exhaustion tugged at her limbs, urging her towards sleep. Everything else could wait until morning. At least she was safe tonight.

Or was she?

Panic suddenly clawed at her throat, constricting her breathing. She was sleeping under a stranger's roof. The realization hit her like a bucket of ice water.

"Stop it, Halona!" she hissed to herself, trying to quell the rising fear.

Her mind raced, inner terror waging war against logic. Buck had been kind, but hadn't Ted Bundy seemed nice too when he lured young women into his car?

Taking a deep, shaky breath, Halona's eyes darted around the room. They landed on a wooden chair in the corner. Moving as quietly as she could, she dragged it across the floor, wincing at every tiny scrape. With trembling hands, she wedged it under the doorknob.

The makeshift barricade offered a sliver of reassurance. It wasn't much, but it was something. Halona crawled into bed, pulling the blankets tight around her. Sleep would be elusive tonight, but at least she'd done what she could to feel a bit safer in this unfamiliar place.

Exhaustion finally won out. The soft bed felt like heaven compared to the hard ground.

Suddenly, terror jolted her awake. Was this purgatory? Some twisted Western afterlife? She scoffed. Purgatory surely wouldn't have saloons and gunfights.

Laughter bubbled up inside her, marked with a tinge of hysteria. Maybe sleep deprivation was making her crazy. Halona closed her eyes. The steady creak of crickets finally lulling her back to sleep.

Chapter 9

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Buck shuffled into the kitchen the next morning. Anticipating the sight of his children perched on stools, eagerly devouring their breakfast, he was met with an empty table. He glanced over at the stove, where Patricia expertly flipped sizzling bacon.

"Mornin'," he mumbled as he reached across the hot skillet and grabbed a piece of crispy goodness.

"I saw that." Patricia swatted his hand playfully with the spatula, a laugh escaping her lips.

"Have you seen either of the kids this morning?" He asked.

"They are outside playing with that woman." Patricia put her hands on her hips and turned her attention from the eggs she was frying to Buck. "She's got the devil in her."

"She's a little unusual." Buck savored his coffee with a satisfied sigh, the warmth spreading through him

"Jumping around… what did she call them? Burpees? Flailing around like she was having a fit." The housekeeper's eyes were wide with disbelief.

"Hmmm." He pushed the curtain to the side and watched as the woman picked his daughter up, under her arms and swung her around in circles.

"She said it was exercise." The older woman shook her head. "That woman needs an exorcism."

Buck snorted and tried to hide the smile that threatened to spread across his face.

"Breakfast is ready." Patricia scowled.

"Alright, alright," Buck chuckled, heading for the back door. "I'll get those two settled in before breakfast gets cold." He pushed open the door and stepped outside, calling out, "Isaac! Megan! Time to eat!"

A blur of brown hair shot past his legs, followed by a breathless, "Okay, Papa!" Isaac raced inside, disappearing towards the washbasin in a flurry of activity.

Buck spotted Megan perched on Halona's shoulders, giggling as they approached the house. He carefully lifted his daughter down. "Wash your hands before breakfast, sweetheart." He reminded her gently.

Halona, a smile lighting up her face, followed them inside. "Good morning!" She greeted.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked.

"Great," she replied with a laugh. "Although, that rooster of yours could really use a snooze button."

Buck snickered, holding the door open for her. "Come on in and join us for breakfast."

"Thanks." She took a seat at the table. "How far are we from a major city?"

"Few days ride," Buck replied, amusement dancing in his eyes, "give or take." He paused, then couldn't resist a playful jab. "Though, considering your… unique horseback riding style, maybe fifteen."

"Funny." Halona rolled her eyes, smiling. "There's gotta be a closer town with basics. Phone, ATM. I need my assistant."

"What's an assistant?" Isaac piped up, his eyes wide with wonder.

Halona smiled. "An assistant is kind of like a helper," she explained patiently. "Someone who helps me stay organized and on top of things."

"What kind of things?" Megan chimed in her voice was full of curiosity.

Halona savored the crisp bacon, a welcome indulgence she hadn't had in a while. "Well," she began, wiping her mouth with a napkin, "sometimes I have to meet with people to talk about work, or go to special events. My assistant helps me schedule those things and she makes sure I have everything I need."

"Like Ms. Fitz?" Megan looked up at their housekeeper. "She helps Papa with everything."

"Yeah exactly." Halona confirmed, ruffling Megan's hair playfully.

"There's a telegraph in town," Buck interupted, routing the conversation back on track.

Halona's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "People still use those?"

"Mhmm." He grunted. "People use them."

She sighed, a hint of frustration creeping into her voice. "I guess that's better than nothing. The sooner I can contact her, the sooner I can get out of your hair."

"You are welcome here," Buck said firmly, meeting her gaze. "We're happy to have you around, aren't we?"

Isaac took a large gulp of milk before muttering, "Yep."

Just then, Buck spotted one of his ranch hands heading towards the barn. "Ah, looks like it's time for me to get to work," he announced, standing up. He knelt down beside Megan's chair, his expression turning serious. "Alright, Meg, promise you'll be a good girl today? No running off, okay?"

Megan nodded solemnly. "Yes, Papa."

"I mean it," Buck emphasized. "I won't be able to keep chasing after you while I'm trying to get things done, alright?"

"No worries," Before Buck could issue any further instructions, Halona spoke up between bites of egg. "I'll keep an eye on them."

"Yeah?" Buck's face broke into a relieved smile. "That would be a huge help."

"It's the least I can do," Halona insisted, reaching over and ruffling Isaac's hair.

"You two be nice to Halona, you hear?" Buck instructed his children, placing a kiss on each of their foreheads. He turned towards the back door, then paused with a final thought. "Oh, Patricia, almost forgot to mention – Fiona's coming for dinner tonight."

Patricia, who had been listening to the conversation from the stove, turned and smiled. "Alright, I'll set another plate."

Isaac, however, wasn't as enthusiastic about the news. He waited until his father was out of earshot before letting out a dramatic groan and rolling his eyes.

Patricia, catching his expression, playfully swatted him on the arm. "You be nice to your father's special friend, young man," she teased. "Now scoot upstairs and get your laundry for me."

Chapter 10

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Patricia heaved a bulging laundry sack onto the porch, dumping clothes into a barrel. Halona, perched on the steps, and watched her stir the clothes with a wooden paddle. With a touch of apprehension, she approached Patricia, her gaze lingering on the laundry bobbing in the barrel.

"I noticed you didn't have any laundry out for me," Patricia remarked, her voice neutral.

"Couldn't ask you to do that," Halona replied. "Would you mind if I use the water after?"

Patricia waved dismissively. "Go get your things."

Upstairs, Halona debated washing her only pair of panties. Gritting her teeth, she peeled them off and tucked them into her blouse. Commando beat walking around in dirty underwear.

By the time she returned to the porch, Patricia was already rinsing a load of clothes, the freshly washed garments billowing on the line. A stifled snicker escaped Halona's lips as she caught sight of a pair of old-fashioned bloomers snapping in the breeze. They were practical, undeniably, but compared to the lingerie Halona was used to, they seemed to belong in another era entirely. Patricia, despite the age difference, sported undergarments that could only be described as 'granny panties' on steroids.

"Go ahead and toss them in," Patricia instructed, gesturing towards the wash basin.

Halona picked up a wooden paddle, eyeing it with uncertainty. "Do I… use it like this?" She asked, mimicking a stirring motion.

Patricia's eyebrow shot up in amusement. "Haven't you ever done laundry before?"

Halona flushed slightly. "Well, not exactly like this," she stammered.

Picking up a washboard, Halona examined it with a mixture of curiosity and skepticism. She'd seen them depicted in old movies, these strange ribbed contraptions, but other than props she had no idea how they worked. Shrugging, she dunked her jeans in the soapy water and placed them on the washboard. Following what little intuition she had, she began to scrub the fabric back and forth.

"Pretty girl like you shouldn't be wearing men's trousers," Patricia commented, peering down at the jeans with a frown.

"I've noticed they aren't very fashionable here," Halona said with all the politeness she could muster. She could feel the woman across from her judging her with every word, her tone dripping with condescension. Halona wasn't sure what she'd done to tick her off.

Patricia snorted. "Those ain't no britches I've ever seen before. And what's that metal contraption on the front?" She pointed a gnarled finger at the zipper.

"The zipper?" Halona explained, patiently demonstrating how the two sides interlocked.

Patricia blushed three shades of red when Halona pulled out a lacey bit of fabric and began to run the soap over it. "Good heavens!" Patricia exclaimed, her voice scandalized. "What… what is that?"

"It's a bra," Halona explained, holding it up for inspection.

Patricia's eyes widened further. "Looks like a fancy corset top to me," she mumbled, taking the garment and turning it over in her hands with a mixture of curiosity and disapproval. "Where's the rest of it?"

"The rest of it?" Halona fought back a smile. "It's just to hold my boobs."

Halona finished awkwardly, feeling a pang of self-consciousness under Patricia's scrutiny.

Patricia's gaze lingered on the lacy fabric for a moment longer before she handed the bra back. "Well, I'll be…" she muttered, her cheeks still flushed.

Halona, relieved to move on from the topic, dunked the bra into the soapy water and began to gently massage the fabric.

"So, where exactly do you find these… frilly little things you wear?" Patricia peered at the lacy fabric with suspicion.

"Everywhere," Halona mumbled to herself and considered her answer. Describing department stores overflowing with lingerie options seemed a world away from this remote place. "Except here apparently."

Halona's eyes wandered to Isaac and Megan, who were engrossed in play with one of the goats. A familiar craving gnawed at her - not for the bland, lifeless black coffee that tasted more like an AI's interpretation of the rich creamy latte and mochas she was use too. Or better yet, the indulgence of a caramel macchiato. Halona exhaled deeply, resting her hands on her hips. It struck her that this had to be the only corner of the world untouched by the ubiquitous green mermaid of Starbucks.

Chapter 11

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Patricia's voice echoed from the back porch, calling everyone to dinner. Fiona, a recent arrival, stood chatting with Patricia in the kitchen, swirling a glass of fresh apple cider.

"Buck told me he had a guest staying here," Fiona remarked, watching as Isaac and Megan raced around the young woman.

"That's right," Patricia confirmed. "His brother found her and brought her here a couple of days ago. Isaac, Megan, go wash up for dinner, would you please?"

Halona scurried past them, breathless. "Ms. Fitz, I brought the laundry in…" Her voice trailed off as she caught sight of Fiona.

The woman defied Halona's vision of a plain, unfashionable homesteader. Standing before her was a vision in stark contrast. Delicate features framed by blonde curls were accentuated by wide blue eyes. Her dress held a tailored elegance that put Halona's borrowed calico to shame.

Fiona offered a cool greeting. "Hello."

"Hi, you must be Fiona." Halona extended a hand, waiting as Fiona reluctantly reciprocated the gesture. "I'm Halona."

"Sweetheart!" Fiona chirped, practically shoving Halona aside as she rushed towards Buck, who was entering the kitchen. Her smile was all sweetness and light.

"Hello, Fee." Buck leaned down, receiving a peck on the cheek.

"Oh, Buck, you're positively filthy!" Fiona recoiled dramatically, her face contorted in disgust.

"Sorry, ladies." Buck chuckled, removing his hat and hanging it by the door. "Let me just clean up. I'll be right in."

He disappeared around the corner, heading for his room. As he stripped off his sweaty shirt, Patricia appeared in the doorway, her expression etched with concern. "What is it?" Buck asked.

"It's a delicate subject," Patricia hedged, her voice hushed.

"Are the children alright?" Buck's tone sharpened with worry.

"Yes they are just fine. It's that woman," Patricia mumbled, her face creased in disapproval.

"Again?" Buck sighed.

"She's got these strange undergarments."

Buck burst out laughing. "Really, Patricia? That's what's got you worried?"

She shot him a withering look. "It's nothing to laugh about! I'm serious. They're just… inappropriate."

"Inappropriate?" Buck tried, and failed, to maintain a straight face.

"Well, you wouldn't believe it," Patricia said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "I've never seen anything like them in my life."

Buck's amusement faded. "Look, Patricia, I appreciate your concern, but frankly, what that woman wears under her clothes ain't any of our business."

Patricia insisted, her eyes wide. "But… these, wh-what she's wearing, would make the saloon girls blush."

Buck's jaw clenched. "Are you suggesting she's some kind of… of…" His voice trailed off as he tried to find polite words.

"I don't know…" Patricia admitted, glancing around nervously. "But if she is what I suspect…" She left the sentence hanging, her disapproval clear.

"Even if she is a workin' lady," Buck interrupted, his voice firm, "she deserves our kindness."

Patricia huffed, clearly unconvinced. Buck, however, had made his point. He grabbed a towel and headed back towards the kitchen, leaving Patricia to stew in her disapproval.

By the time Buck returned, the children were settled at the table, scrubbed clean, and seemingly unfazed by the recent arrival. The dining room hummed with the gentle clink of cutlery and the soft murmur of conversation.

"So, Fiona, what do you do?" Halona asked, her tone polite but guarded.

Fiona's smile widened, her perfectly white teeth gleaming in the candlelight. "Why, I simply adore sewing! And of course, cooking, embroidery, and a good book every now and then." She paused, her eyes flicking to Buck before continuing. "Oh, and I've recently taken up playing the new organ at the church. It's simply divine!"

Her gaze settled on Halona, saccharine sweetness dripping from her words. "Do you play any instruments, dear? The piano, perhaps?"

Halona nodded, her posture straightening slightly. "Yes, I play the piano and guitar."

"How... quaint," Fiona replied, her voice syrupy. "Perhaps we could duet sometime, and I could give you some pointers."

Patricia placed a steaming roasted chicken on the table. "Speaking of talents," she announced, "Fiona here took first prize at the pie-baking contest last July!"

"That sounds delicious," Buck said, taking a seat beside Fiona.

Isaac and Megan, oblivious to the tension, chattered excitedly about their day, while Fiona maintained a polite conversation with Buck, mostly about the goings-on around the ranch. Her hand occasionally brushed his arm, her laughter a little too melodious at his jokes.

"Buck, darling," Fiona cooed, her voice dripping with honey. "You simply must come hear me play at the church sometime. I'm sure even a man of your... rustic tastes would appreciate the beauty of a well-played organ."

The double entendre hung in the air like a thick fog. Patricia continued serving, oblivious, while Isaac and Megan chattered away, their innocent minds far from adult implications. But for Buck and Halona, the world seemed to screech to a halt.

Halona's fork clattered against her plate, her mouth falling open in shock. Her eyes darted between Fiona's smug expression and Buck's face, which had turned an interesting shade of red. Buck's eyes widened, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed hard.

Fiona's gaze locked onto Halona, her smile never wavering. But her eyes... they were sharp as flint, filled with a warning that needed no words. The message was clear: 'Back off, he's mine.'

The silence stretched for what seamed like eternity. Buck cleared his throat, his voice slightly strained as he replied, "That's... uh, that's very kind of you, Fiona."

Halona felt a wave of isolation wash over her. Fiona's hostility, thinly veiled beneath a veneer of sweetness, was suffocating. Patricia's disapproving glances only added to the weight pressing down on her chest. She found herself shrinking in her chair, feeling more out of place with each passing moment.

Desperately seeking some form of connection, Halona stole another glance at Buck. She hoped to find reassurance in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of the absurdity of the situation. However, Buck seemed preoccupied, his gaze fixed on Fiona. His smile looked a touch too eager, his attention captured by the woman across from him.

The dinner continued, conversation flowing around Halona like a river around a stone. She sat, silent and still, as Fiona's laughter rang out, as Buck responded with increasing animation to her stories. With each passing moment, she felt herself fading further into the background, a stranger at a table full of family and friends.

Buck wasn't manufactured. She noticed the way one corner of his mouth lifted higher than the other, a charming quirk that she found attractive. The few men in her past had all been sculpted products of Hollywood grooming, as comfortable under studio lights as she was.

They were polished, educated, either in the biz or trust fund types – a stark contrast to Buck's rugged appeal. His dark windswept hair and sun-kissed skin spoke of a life spent outdoors. His well-muscled frame, honed by hard work, hinted at a strength that went beyond the physical. And beneath his quiet exterior, the man oozed charm in the most unassuming way.

Chapter 12

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

As the dinner progressed, Halona found herself retreating into silence, the lively conversation swirling around her like a current she couldn't quite catch. Fiona's voice, sweet as honey but sharp as a tack, dominated the table, her words carefully crafted to exclude Halona while drawing Buck ever closer.

"What do you think Halona?" Buck asked.

Halona looked up, startled. "Hmm?"

"Well of course she's going to agree with you she's an Indian." Fiona said and rolled her eyes.

"She's not Kiowa." Buck said as though that should explain that Halona wouldn't just agree with his views on things.

"An Indian is an Indian in these things Buck." Fiona countered.

"Wow," Halona muttered as she shifted uncomfortably on the chair.

"What?" Fiona looked at her.

"What's the question?" Halona ignored her.

"The army has increased their soldiers at the fort and are sending out troupes to the villages," Buck explained.

"It's because of the massacre," Fiona said simply. "That entire family was brutally murdered and three of the children are missing, assumed that they were taken by the Kiowa."

"I don't understand." Halona looked at Fiona and then at Buck with a confused expression on her face.

"The army has killed several warriors," Buck clarified.

"Red Bear?" Halona asked quickly.

"No," Buck said. "He moved the village further into Oklahoma."

"Buck told me you lived with his brother's tribe," Fiona interjected.

"I did." Halona replied.

"I imagine it felt quite like home," Fiona said, her smile sugary-sweet.

Halona couldn't help but scoff internally. Fiona, with her picture-perfect looks and thinly veiled disdain, was Regina George personified.

"I heard that President Grant may come to Fort Sill himself if the Indian agents don't get the trouble under control," Patricia chimed in.

"Let's talk about something else at the dinner table." Buck interjected.

"Wait, I'm sorry." Halona coughed. "President who?"

"Ulysses S. Grant," Patricia repeated, enunciating each syllable as if speaking to a child.

Fear tore at Halona's chest. Disorientation washed over her. The room seemed to tilt, the clatter of forks on plates morphing into a deafening roar. Unable to hold it back any longer, she bolted from the table. The cool night air hit her face, but it did little to quell nausea rising in her throat. Reaching the safety of a large oak tree, she doubled over, emptying her stomach. Dry heaves wracked her body as she clung to the rough bark, the world spinning wildly around her.

A gentle hand touched her back. "Halona?" Buck's voice, laced with concern, cut through the fog.

"Needed air," she rasped, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

He grasped her arm as she swayed, his touch centered her. Pushing a stray lock of hair from her face, his brow furrowed in worry. A shaky breath escaped her lips, and then darkness claimed her. The last thing she registered was strong arms scooping her up before everything faded to darkness.

Disoriented, Halona blinked awake to the familiar comfort of her bed. The past few weeks her thoughts were plagued with questions. Was she dead? In a coma? Can a person spontaneously become delusional? Whatever had happened there was a major glitch in the matrix.

As the events of the evening replayed in her mind, a shiver ran down her spine. Every science fiction movie she'd ever seen seemed laughably tame compared to her reality. Could this be the answer she'd been searching for all along? Insanity seemed more probable.

Chapter 13

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Buck returned to the parlor after tucking the children in, finding Fiona perched expectantly on the sofa. A glance at the clock confirmed the lateness of the hour. Despite the need to get her home, Fiona's posture telegraphed no intention of leaving soon.

"Apologies if I caused offense at dinner, Buck," Her voice dropped to a husky whisper, her hand trailing suggestively up his chest. "Seems I spoke out of turn on matters I don't fully understand."

"Always speak your mind, Fee," he replied automatically.

"How's your friend faring?" Fiona's voice dripped with veiled sweetness.

"She just fainted," Buck offered, his gaze lingering on Fiona's face. A flicker of something – jealousy, perhaps? Anger? – crossed her features before vanishing as quickly as it appeared. The brief display left him unsettled.

"And how long is this… stay… expected to last?" Fiona's perfectly painted brows arched inquisitively.

"Just until we locate her family. She's confused about a lot of things."

"Confused, or perhaps keeping secrets?" Fiona countered, her blue eyes locking onto his. "Why didn't you mention she was so young, and so very attractive?"

"Honestly, Fee," Buck shifted uncomfortably. "It hadn't crossed my mind."

"Never crossed your mind that she was attractive?" A devious smile danced on Fiona's lips. "Or never crossed your mind to mention it?" Her voice took on a seductive tone as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his ear.

Buck rose abruptly, "It's getting late, Fiona. I should get you home." He reached out, offering a hand to help her up.

Chapter 14

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Buck watched Halona wander the fence line. The past few days she had been uncharacteristically quiet and melancholy. He set his worn paperback aside and pushed open the door, the scent of honeysuckle heavy in the warm evening air. He expected her to retreat, at the sound of his approach, but instead, she stood sentinel at the worn fence.

"Feelin' any better?" He asked gently, his boots crunching on the dry grass.

Halona turned, her eyes clouded with confusion. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely a whisper.

"Hey," he said, sincerity lacing his tone. He reached out, his hand hovering before taking hers in a warm, reassuring clasp. "I'll help you if I can."

"Promise me…" She hesitated, then met his gaze with a flicker of vulnerability. "Promise me, you won't let them lock me away."

"Of course not." His startled reaction came without hesitation.

"Am I… dead?"

"No, Halona." Buck squeezed her hand gently. "You're not dead."

"Then…" she faltered, her voice cracking. "I'm afraid I'm losing my mind."

"Hey," he soothed, brushing a stray strand of hair from her cheek with his thumb. "You're not losing your mind. Everything's just a bit… overwhelming."

"That's an understatement." She choked out, a single tear escaping and tracing a glistening path down her cheek. "What year is it?"

Buck's brow furrowed. "Eighteen seventy."

Halona squeezed her eyes shut, another tear escaping. A sob escaped her lips, as she crumpled into him. He wrapped his arms around her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled, her voice thick with emotion.

"There's nothing to apologize for," he murmured, stroking her back in a comforting rhythm.

"I fucking hate crying." Her voice muffled against his chest.

Despite the gravity of the situation, a flicker of warmth took root in his chest. He couldn't deny the pull he felt towards Halona. Sure, she was unconventional and a bit odd, but there was a light in her eyes, a humor that peeked through the cracks of her confusion.

"Hey," Buck tilted her head up and wiped her tears from her eyes. "I want to ask you something."

"Hmmm?" She looked up at him and waited.

"What's this about black tears?"

"What?" She looked at him blankly.

"My brother said you cried black tears."

She blinked, confusion giving way to a sudden realization. "Oh! Black tears?" She exclaimed, a choked laugh escaping her lips. "That was just mascara! It must have gotten in my eyes when I cried."

"Then it ran down your cheeks." Buck chuckled. "They thought you were crying black tears."

Halona's cheeks flushed. "They probably thought I was a demon or something."

"Maybe," Buck teased with a playful glint in his eyes. "Speaking of demons, Ms. Fitz saw you… exercising… the other day. Thought you were possessed or something."

"Honestly …" She trailed off, sensing his hesitant gaze.

"Maybe just… tone it down a bit," Buck offered carefully. "Until we figure things out."

"Alright," she conceded.

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 fun!" 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 too 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?"

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 ear 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. 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.

Chapter 16

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The fire crackled softly in the fireplace, casting flickering shadows across the room. Buck watched Halona, her silhouette framed by the window as she gazed out into the inky darkness. The steady tick of the mantle clock punctuated the silence, each second seeming to stretch longer than the last.

Over the past few weeks, she'd withdrawn even more. The vibrant, curious woman who had stumbled into his life was fading, replaced by someone distant and melancholic. Buck's throat tightened as he remembered her eager questions about his family, her infectious laughter. Now, all their conversations had become strained, filled with long silences that hung heavy in the air.

"Halona?" He finally asked, his voice breaking the silence.

She turned at the sound of her name, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. "Hmm?" She murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Buck shifted in his chair. "Is something bothering you?"

Halona's gaze drifted back to the window, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the cool glass. "I'm never going to get home," she said blankly, her words carrying a finality that made Buck's chest ache.

He rose from his chair, the floorboards groaning softly under his weight. In a matter of steps, he crossed the room and knelt beside her window seat, taking her hand in his. Her skin felt cool against his calloused palm.

"Halona," he said gently.. "If California is what you want, I'll take you there."

She looked into his eyes, sadness etched in her features. The firelight danced across her face, highlighting the hollows beneath her cheekbones. "You'd take me all the way to California?"

"Of course," he squeezed her hand, feeling the delicate bones beneath her skin.

A sad smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "You're probably the kindest man I've ever met." Her free hand came up to cup his cheek, her touch feather-light. "But it wouldn't change anything. I don't belong here, Buck. Can't you feel it?" Her words hung heavy, pleading for understanding. "This place, this time... it's all wrong."

Suddenly, Halona leaned in and kissed him. It was unexpected, a surge of bottled emotions released. He responded instinctively, pulling her close. When then broke apart, chests heaving, Buck searched her eyes, a silent question hanging between them. Halona's gaze held a vulnerability he hadn't seen before. In that moment, a wordless understanding passed between them. They both felt it, an invisible thread binding them together.

Buck tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending visible shivers down her spine.

"Come here," he growled softly, his voice rough with emotion.

Buck's grip tightened on her hands, and with a slow, deliberate rise, he pulled her off the window seat. His movements, both commanding and tender, sent a tremor through her body. His hands, warm and comforting, cupped her face. Leaning in, he brushed his lips against hers. There was a tenderness in that initial contact yet it sparked a wildfire between them.

When his tongue dipped past her lips, her response was immediate, a tangle of emotions – the sweetness of surrendering, the thrill of the unknown, the intense loneliness that had taken root in her heart without her realizing. His hands skimmed the curve of her back, with a gasp, she pulled away, her breath ragged. Her fingers, trembling slightly, fumbled with the buttons of his shirt. He followed her lead, both lost in the heat of the moment, as they stumbled down the hallway.

Her fingers glided over the rippling muscles of his tanned body, tracing every curve and dip with a delicate touch. She pressed her lips to his chest, tasting the saltiness of his sweat and feeling the faint scar beneath them. The sound of his soft moans only fueled her desire further as she explored every inch of him.

Her hands continued their journey down his torso, skimming over the bulge in his pants with a teasing touch. Every nerve in her body was alight with longing for this man, and she could feel herself succumbing to the overwhelming need for him. Slowly, she traced a path down his chest, her soft kisses following the trail of hair that disappeared beneath his belt buckle.

"Buck," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as her lips met his skin just above his navel. "I need you."

Her fingers made quick work of his belt and she tugged his pants from him. Rocking back on her heels, her heart pounded in her chest as her eyes lustfully raked over his nude form, she couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like to have him inside her. She looked up at him, their eyes locking in a silent moment of connection. The intensity between them was undeniable and she knew what they both wanted.

With a deep breath, Halona took him into her mouth, her lips sliding slowly along his length. Buck let out a low, guttural moan, his hands tightening around her shoulders, pulling her closer. His hips bucked slightly, his entire length thrusting against her mouth. Halona moaned around him, the sound vibrating against his skin. She playfully used her tongue and lips to ignite the fire raging through his body, teasing him with a sensation that drove him wild.

With each stroke of her tongue and each gentle suck, Buck felt himself slipping deeper into a lust-fueled haze. His grip was like a vise as he yanked her up from the ground and frantically tore at the buttons of her dress. His hands shook with desire, he needed to feel her skin against his.

Halona's eyes widened in surprise, the intensity of his grasp startling her. But before she could react, he removed her dress, letting it fall to the ground. Buck dragged his lips from her mouth, running his tongue over her neck as his hands continued to roam her body. He could feel her heart beating wildly against his chest, matching the rhythm of his own heartbeat. Halona's body was trembling as Buck's fingers traced down her sides, grazing the sensitive skin of her stomach. She shivered at his touch, the sensation echoing the desire that had been building between them.

With a fierce glint in her eyes, Halona forcefully shoved him backward, sending him stumbling and crashing onto the bed. She tore off her tattered bra and panties as she straddled his body. Buck looked up at her, his eyes filled with hunger, as he reached up and grabbed her hips, pulling her closer to him. Halona instinctively lowered herself onto him, her eyes closed as she felt him fill her. A raw, powerful connection that seemed to ignite every nerve ending in her body.

Buck's hands gripped her, guiding her movements as she began to set the pace. Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze never leaving his. Halona moved faster, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she rode him. Buck's hands held her hips tightly, his fingers digging into her skin. Buck's breath hitched as he whispered her name.

Halona felt his body tense beneath her. She leaned down, her lips brushing against his, as their worlds converged in a delicate balance of ecstasy and longing. As they moved together, their bodies melded, and they became one in their shared passion. The bed creaked and groaned under them, the only sound in the room, as they lost themselves in each other's embrace.

Halona felt the wave of pleasure wash over her, and she cried out as her body trembled. Buck's own release was close behind, his body tensing and then relaxing as he joined her in the aftermath of their passion.

Chapter 17

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona awoke to the early morning sunlight streaming through the window. She stretched and turned to see Buck lying next to her, still asleep. She watched his peaceful face for a few moments before untangling her body from his embrace, being careful not to wake him.

"Where are you going?" Buck mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. His arm shot out, instinctively wrapping around her waist and pulling her back against him.

Halona sighed contentedly as Buck's strong arms encircled her from behind, his solid warmth enveloping her. "The kids..." she murmured, eyes fluttering closed as she allowed herself to sink into his embrace.

"It's Sunday, Hallie," he rumbled against the soft skin of her neck, his breath sending delicious shivers cascading down her spine. Warm kisses trailed along the curve of her ear as a hand roamed soothingly down the small of her back. "They won't be awake for ages yet."

A breathy giggle escaped her at the affectionate nickname. "Hallie?"

Buck hummed an inquisitive note, his wandering caresses stalling momentarily. "You don't like it?"

"No, no... I do." Halona twisted in the circle of his arms until they were face to face, mesmerized by the warm amber fire of his gaze. "It's much better than 'Halonie Bologna'." She wrinkled her nose playfully. "You know, like bologna salami?"

He blinked at her in mild confusion, one dark brow arching. "Can't say I'm familiar with that particular reference,"

"Oh!" Halona flushed slightly, feeling a bit foolish. "Right, of course you wouldn't have...well, it's kind of like a slice of processed lunch meat."

Buck chuckled, the rumbling sound warming her from the inside out. "I see. So it was an insult of sorts then, this 'bologna' business?"

"Definitely an insult," she confirmed. "The bane of my childhood existence - courtesy of one Henry Perkins and his merry little band of devil spawns." She rolled her eyes dramatically at the memory. "That kid was an absolute monster back then."

"Well, I'm sure Henry Perkins feels just awful about tormenting a sweet young thing like yourself." Buck grinned rakishly, pulling her flush against him once more.

Halona snorted indelicately. "Last I heard, he had like three baby mamas and was doing time for petty theft, so I doubt he was losing much sleep over third-grade bullying."

"Hm, in that case..." Buck cupped her face in one broad palm, tilting it up until their lips were a breath apart. His free hand skated up her ribcage, fingertips blazing a molten trail in their wake. "Allow me to make it up to you, Hallie."

The barely breathed endearment was the only warning she had before his mouth crashed over hers in a searing kiss. Halona melted into him with a helpless moan, her body instinctively curving to maximize their contact. His tongue delved between her lips, stroking and twisting with sensuous leisure until she could only whimper softly.

All too soon, a nagging lead weight began pressing in her chest. With sheer force of will, Halona tore her mouth away, struggling to gather her scattered thoughts.

"Buck..." She met his passion-darkened gaze, her eyes clouding with a sad sort of resolution. "I know there's someone else in your life right now, and as much as I wish things were different..."

"It's nothin' serious," The words tumbled from his lips in a hushed rush, as if reading the increasingly conflicted emotions playing over her features. "Just a few dinners."

"I'm just fucking your life up," she said, a tremor in her voice as she tried to pull away. Not that she wanted to, but she knew she had to. The depth of her feelings for him terrified her, and the thought of hurting him was unbearable.

Buck chuckled, a teasing sound. "The language that falls out of that sweet mouth of yours." He said, pulling her back to face him. He cupped her face and kissed her gently, a spark igniting between them despite the tension.

Lost in the moment, Halona responded with fervor. But as quickly as it started, she pulled back, steading her breath she looked into his eyes.

"I'm not the one for you, Buck," she choked out, blinking back tears. "I wish I was. You're the best man I know. That I've ever known, but I'm not."

"You keep yer secrets," he said softly, wiping away a stray tear. "I know you're scared, but your past don't matter to me."

Their conversation was cut short by the sounds of children's laughter echoing down the hallway. Halona leaned in and kissed him one last time, a silent goodbye. Wrapping the sheet around herself, she walked to the door, her heart heavy, the weight of her decision settling on her shoulders.

Chapter 18

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona trailed behind Buck and Isaac as they entered the general store, her hand tightly clasped around Megan's. A flicker of movement caught her eye – Fiona entering the store. Halona's grip on Megan's hand subconsciously tightened, and she steered them behind a large display near the door. All she wanted was to escape back to the buckboard without an encounter with Fiona.

"Well, Buck," Fiona's voice purred, drawing attention from across the store. "Haven't seen you in a week, maybe more." She sashayed over to the counter where Buck stood with Isaac.

"Hello, Fiona," Buck replied, leaning casually against the counter and turning towards her.

"Are you and the children planning to attend the Christmas social next week?" She inquired, her gaze lingering on Buck.

"I'm not certain yet," Buck said, a slight frown creasing his forehead. He glanced around the store, searching for Megan. "There's a lot going on at the house right now."

"You work entirely too hard, Buck," Fiona remarked with a knowing smile.

"Here you are, Mr. Cross." The storekeeper boomed, placing two dresses on the counter. "If they need alterations, my wife's in the back."

"Thank you," Buck said, his gaze scanning the front of the store again. "Halona? Would you come on over here?"

Halona bristled. Back home, a nonchalant shrug and a dismissive flick of her eyes would have sufficed, a smooth escape from the situation. But here, things were different. And it wasn't him she sought to avoid.

Why was she letting this woman control her like this? Normally, Halona would brush it off, and move on with her day. But Fionna was getting under her skin, worming her way past Halona's usual defenses.

Ignoring Buck's request any longer would cause a scene, and though Halona was typically the first to start the theatrics, she didn't want to embarrass Buck or jeopardize the only safety she had. Plastering on a smile that felt more like a grimace, she forced herself to step out from behind the display case and walk towards the counter.

The unspoken tension between her and Buck hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of their tangled night together. Pushing him away had felt like the right thing at the time, but with each passing day, the truth gnawed at her. It was a lie, a flimsy shield she'd built to protect herself. As she approached the counter, seeing Buck standing there beside Fiona, a pang of jealousy, sharp and bitter, pierced her heart.

"Will you put these on?" Buck asked, his hand resting on her lower back. "Mrs. Peters can adjust them to fit."

"Oh?" Halona raised an eyebrow, surprised.

"Honestly," Buck smiled, "I can't bear to see you in that dress anymore."

Halona blushed. "You can't just buy me things because..." she trailed off.

"I ordered these weeks ago," Buck said. "You've helped so much around the house. It's appreciation."

"Thanks."

"And, Hallie," Buck smirked, handing her undergarments, "maybe try these instead of... well…."

Halona held up the shift and pantalettes, surprised.

"No matter how much I appreciate your... unique style," Buck added.

He left her to change, stifling a laugh at her expression.

Chapter 19

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Buck glanced up toward the window, spotting Halona curled up with a book. He knew she'd declined the invitation to the town social, but a flicker of hope still burned in his chest. He packed the pies that Ms. Fitz had baked into the buckboard, securing them with a sigh.

"Papa, why isn't Halona coming?" Megan asked, arms outstretched.

"She's not feeling up to it, pumpkin," Buck said, lifting her into the wagon. "I'll try one last time, okay? Just a minute."

Retreating to the house, he padded down the hallway, heart thumping as he knocked on Halona's door. "Halona?"

"Come in," her voice drifted out.

Buck leaned on the footboard of the bed, his eyes drinking in the sight of her. The soft afternoon light filtering through the curtains cast a warm glow on her skin. "We're about to head out," he said.

Halona smiled warmly, "Have fun," she replied, her fingers absently playing with the edge of the quilt.

"We'd really love for you to come with us," Buck said.

"It's a family thing, Buck," she said gently, her tone softening the rejection. The unspoken words hung between them: she wasn't family, not really.

Buck sighed, disappointment clouding his eyes. He left, the click of the door echoing his regret. The sound seemed to linger in the hallway, a reminder of the growing distance between them.

On the ride to town, the wagon wheels creaked a steady rhythm against the packed dirt road. Buck explained to Megan that Halona wanted alone time. Megan, surprisingly, didn't unleash her usual barrage of questions. Instead, she nestled closer to her father, her small hand finding his.

The town hall buzzed with Christmas cheer. Pine boughs draped every surface, their fresh scent mingling with warm cinnamon. Red ribbons cascaded from the rafters, and candles flickered in the windows, casting dancing shadows. Megan clung to Buck's hand as they navigated the crowd, while Isaak bounded ahead, disappearing into the sea of people.

"There you are!" Fiona's voice cut through the noise, a touch too high to be genuine. She materialized before them, cheeks flushed, and swept Megan into a showy hug. Her expensive dress engulfed the child's small frame.

Fiona turned to Buck, planting a quick kiss on his cheek that left a waxy smear. Her perfume assaulted his senses - artificial lavender mixed with something sickly sweet. Buck fought the urge to step back, breathing through his mouth.

"So good of you to join us," she simpered, words dripping with honey-coated barbs. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd make it at all."

The evening progressed with forced pleasantries until Pastor Glenn's cryptic words about praying for Buck's family set off alarm bells.

"Am I missing something?" Buck frowned, rejoining Fiona.

Fiona tried to play innocent. "You know how town folks talk." She tried her best to distract him and change the subject.

"And what exactly are folks sayin'?" Buck asked, his voice low and controlled.

Fiona's eyes darted around the room, as if checking for eavesdroppers. "They say she's a witch, Buck. Odd clothes, peculiar speech. And the way she just appeared out of nowhere..." She trailed off, letting the implication hang in the air.

Buck stared at Fiona, his expression a mix of disbelief and growing anger. The festive sounds from the hall seemed distant now, muffled by the weight of Fiona's words.

"A witch," he repeated flatly. "And how exactly did folks come to that conclusion?"

Fiona shifted uncomfortably, her earlier bravado faltering under Buck's steady gaze. "Well, you know... it's just... odd, isn't it? A strange woman shows up out of nowhere, dresses funny, talks different. And suddenly she's living in your house, taking care of your children?"

Buck's eyes narrowed. "Sounds to me like folks ain't got nothin' better to do than gossip. And you seem to know an awful lot about these rumors, Fiona."

Fiona's demeanor changed instantly, her eyes widening in a show of innocence. "Now, Buck, don't be like that. I'm just worried about you and the children, is all." She reached out, placing a hand on his arm. "You know I care about you."

This time Buck wasn't buying it. He'd seen this side of Fiona before, glimpses of manipulation he'd chosen to ignore. Not anymore.

"Carin' about someone don't involve spreadin' lies about 'em," Buck said, his voice low but firm. "Hallie is troubled, and she's been nothin' but kind and loving to my family."

"Just how loving has she been to you?" Fiona's facade cracked, a flash of jealousy crossing her face. "Has she bewitched you too, Buck Cross?"

Buck stepped back, shaking his head. He'd been wanting to end things with Fiona for a while now, but the right moment never seemed to present itself. Well, no time like the present. "Fiona, I thought you were a good woman. I see now how wrong I was."

Fiona's eyes narrowed, sensing where this was going. "What are you saying, Buck?"

"I'm sayin' we're done, Fiona. Whatever this was between us, it's over."

"You can't be serious! You're choosing her over me? Some... some witch?" Fiona's face contorted with anger. "Buck, wait," she grabbed for his hands, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you. I was just jealous. I'll do better, I promise."

For a moment, Buck hesitated. He'd known Fiona for a long time, and ending things wasn't easy. But as he looked at her pleading face, he saw past the facade she'd carefully constructed. Where he once might have fallen for her charms, he now saw the truth. The manipulative glint in her eyes, the calculated tremble of her lip - it all came into sharp focus. Fiona wasn't just misguided or jealous.

She was willing to destroy someone's life, for her own gain. The realization settled in his gut. The woman he thought he'd known was gone, replaced by someone he barely recognized. And in that moment, he understood - the real monster wasn't some imagined witch. It was standing right in front of him, wearing Fiona's face.

"No, Fiona. We can't. Goodbye."

Buck tipped his head in a final, farewell and turned on his heel. He strode back into the building, leaving Fiona to cool off in the crisp night air. The sounds of the celebration washed over him as he re-entered, but they felt hollow now, disconnected from the turmoil in his mind.

As he made his way through the crowd, Buck's eyes searched for his children. He spotted them still nestled near the Christmas tree, their faces bright with innocent joy. The sight should have warmed his heart, but instead, a knot of worry tightened in his gut.

The whispers and sidelong glances from the townsfolk suddenly seemed more sinister. A chill ran down Buck's spine as he considered the implications. How far had these rumors spread? And more importantly, how would they affect Halona and the kids?

Jimmy met them at the front of the hall, his usual easy smile tinged with concern. He'd seen the events unfolding and heard the rumors circulating through town these past couple of weeks. As Buck helped the children into the buckboard, Jimmy rested his hand on the seat, leaning in close.

"Well, they ain't blaming cholera on her yet," Jimmy said, his voice low and rueful.

Buck's jaw clenched, his knuckles white on the reins. "Guess I should count my blessin's then," he muttered through gritted teeth.

Jimmy glanced around, making sure they weren't overheard, then leaned in closer. "But I did hear she's been running naked by the river at night," he whispered, a mischievous glint in his eye. "If that's true, I may need to visit more often."

Despite the gravity of the situation, Buck felt the corner of his mouth twitch. Leave it to Jimmy to find humor in even the darkest moments. The attempt to lighten the mood was appreciated, even if it couldn't fully dispel the worry that had settled in Buck's chest.

As they departed, the sounds of the celebration faded behind them, replaced by the soft jingling of the horses' harness and the creak of wagon wheels. The road ahead seemed longer than usual, stretching out into an uncertain future.

Chapter 20

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The angry voices sliced through Halona's slumber. She jolted awake, her heart pounding against her ribcage. Patricia's shrill tone cut through the morning quiet, each biting word dripping with venom. Halona strained to make out what she was saying, but another voice - lower, masculine - responded with resigned sighs.

She cracked open an eye, squinting against the pale sunlight peeking through the curtains. Dust motes danced in the bright rays, looking almost magical against the pale blue fabric. The voices rose again in the kitchen, Patricia's becoming more frantic, verging on hysterical. Halona's stomach twisted into knots. She tossed off the heavy quilt, shivering as her feet hit the cold hardwood floor. Grabbing the worn quilt blanket from the foot of the bed, she wrapped it tightly around her shoulders and crept down the hallway.

"...after all these years you are firing me like this!" The housekeeper raged. "Over a stranger!"

Halona winced. Stranger. A nameless, faceless outsider who'd disrupted their comfortable routine.

Patricia's voice continued, laced with judgment. "What kind of father lets a strange woman move into his home? And what kind of woman moves in with a man she's not married to? Not the kind of woman you should have around your children that's for sure!"

Halona's breath caught in her throat. Shame burned in her cheeks. Was this how the people here saw her? A prick of anger joined the knot of unease in her stomach.

"That's enough, Ms. Fitzpatrick," Buck said, his tone calm but firm. "What I do in my home is private and my business. I'm letting you go because you betrayed my trust when you discussed my family's private matters with other people."

"But—" Patricia started, her voice cut off by Buck.

Halona heard the heavy thud of trunks being moved, followed by Buck's voice, firm but laced with a weariness that tugged at Halona's heart. "Finish packing," he said. "I'll be a few moments and we'll be leaving."

As Buck's footsteps approached, Halona scrambled back to her room, shutting the door with a soft click. What a way to start the day. She couldn't believe that he was firing Patricia! She was astonished at the way the older woman spoke to Buck, lecturing him on fatherhood. Halona wondered if she had questioned his abilities to raise his children publicly. Was that what he was talking about? If that was the case, no wonder he was upset.

"Halona?" Buck knocked softly.

"I'm awake." She opened the door with the blanket still wrapped around her.

"What are you doing?" He looked down at the blanket wrapped tightly around her body.

"I heard yelling." She bit her lower lip softly.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that." He frowned.

"Look I really appreciate everything, but I'm ruining—"

"You aren't ruining anything." He leaned over and kissed her tenderly.

"Sorry, I was eavesdropping." She said softly, her lips whispering against his.

"Will you keep an eye on the kids?" He closed his eyes and pulled her tightly against his chest.

"Of course." She nodded.

"I'll be home as soon as I'm done." With a final, lingering look, Buck turned and walked out of the room.

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."

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 her 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 now," 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 seemed 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 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.

"I promise, I'll believe you."

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 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 Halona'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?"

Halona 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.

Chapter 22

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The cellar, with its damp earth smell and low ceiling, offered little inspiration. Halona scanned the shelves, hoping for a miracle – a forgotten cookbook, a hidden pantry overflowing with exotic ingredients, Chef Ramsey jumping out of a cupboard. Nothing. Just dusty jars of preserves and forgotten odds and ends.

Beside her, Isaac and Megan bounced with youthful impatience. Halona, however, felt a nervousness in her stomach. Memories of her modern kitchen, barely used, filled with gleaming appliances and convenient pre-packaged meals, felt like a lifetime ago. Here, the prospect of feeding two hungry children without DoorDash was daunting.

Taking a deep breath, she forced a smile. "Alright, you two, what sounds good for dinner?"

"Chicken!" Megan shouted, her enthusiasm echoing in the cool space.

"Chicken sounds good," Isaac echoed, adding, "and mashed potatoes!"

Halona grimaced internally. Chicken. Mashed potatoes. Two seemingly simple dishes that suddenly felt like a culinary impossibility. "Chicken and potatoes, okay," she agreed, her voice lacking conviction. "Now, where do you keep the chicken…" Her voice trailed off as a horrifying realization dawned on her.

"The coop!" Megan chimed in with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Halona's stomach lurched. "Ugh…" She squeaked, the image of a squawking, feathery creature flashing in her mind.

"Don't worry." Isaac tried to comfort her. "Papa will chop its head off."

Halona forced a weak smile. "Lovely," she muttered, sarcasm dripping from her voice. The image of beheading a live chicken was not something she'd ever envisioned facing.

The cellar door clanged shut behind them as they ventured out into the farmyard. Megan dashed towards the nearby horse enclosure, her excited shrieks cutting through the air. Halona winced, remembering Buck's warnings about being gentle around the animals.

"Hold on there, Megs!" She called out, hurrying after the little girl.

Just then, Buck emerged from the barn, a questioning look on his face. Halona caught him before he could reach Megan.

"We… uh… need a chicken for dinner," she stammered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment.

"You're cookin'?" Buck asked, his lips twitching slightly as he bit back a smile.

Halona offered a helpless shrug. "I'm not making any promises."

Buck chuckled, the sound warm and reassuring. "Alright, come on." He strode towards the chicken coop, his easy confidence a stark contrast to Halona's nervousness.

"Here you go," he said, reaching down and throwing open the coop door. "Just hop in and grab one."

Halona stared at the entrance in horror. "Me?"

Buck's smile widened. "Just kidding," he said, his amusement evident. He scooped Megan up into his arms. "Isaac, how about you help me pick out a plump one?"

Isaac, however, piped up with another suggestion. "Halona can hold the chicken while you chop its head off, Papa!"

"I thought we were friends Isaac!" Halona exclaimed, her voice laced with mock horror.

Buck's laughter echoed across the farmyard. "Let's leave the chicken wrangling to me," he said, already reaching into the coop. "You and the kids head inside. I'll handle the, uh, less pleasant aspects of dinner."

Chapter 23

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Despite her initial fears, dinner turned out surprisingly well. The chicken may have been a little dry and the potatoes a bit too lumpy, but she had to admit it wasn't bad given her limited knowledge in cooking, as well as using extremely rustic tools.

As Buck tucked the children into bed, Halona tackled the pile of dirty dishes on her own. Though Buck offered to help, she insisted on finishing them alone. The sound of dishes clinking against the sink in the quiet kitchen was oddly soothing.

When she finally emerged, a damp dishcloth draped over her shoulder, Buck sat by the fireplace with a book in his lap. However, she could tell from his gaze that he was more focused on her than the pages. Her heart swelled with warmth at this realization.

"I'm going to bed," she whispered, exhaustion evident in her voice.

Buck closed his book and smiled at her. "Thank you," he responded, his voice husky.

"For what?" she asked, tilting her head as she turned to face him.

"For dinner," he replied, with a lingering gaze that sent a shiver down her spine. "And for taking care of Isaac and Megan."

"I hope you liked the chicken," she smiled warmly. "It was either that or cheese sandwiches. I'm not much of a cook."

Buck chuckled warmly. "I appreciated it,"

"You're welcome," she managed, feeling a blush rise to her cheeks. "Goodnight, Buck."

"Goodnight, Hallie." he murmured softly in reply.

Halona rushed to the safety of her room, her heart pounding in her chest. Each thump echoed the chaotic turmoil within her. Why couldn't she have met someone like Buck in her own time? A man who was kind, strong, and had a heart of gold. Despair threatened to consume her. Was she truly stuck in this unfamiliar world, forever separated from the life she had known? The unfairness of it all tore at her.

Loving Buck, allowing him into her heart, felt like a betrayal. He deserved a love that wasn't burdened by impossible circumstances, he deserved a future filled with shared hopes and joys. The thought of denying him that, of causing him the pain of saying goodbye, was a torment worse than any she had experienced.

But living without his warmth, laughter, and support was an unbearable thought. Halona collapsed onto her bed, tears welling up in her eyes. How could she choose between the love she craved and the future he so rightfully deserved? Her breath caught as she heard Buck's footsteps drawing nearer. Every step on the creaky wooden floor sent shivers down her spine. Would he stop? Would he...? But the sound continued, fading away as he retreated down the hallway.

She waited until she heard the bedroom door close before she let out a long-awaited exhale. She felt trapped in this new life. It may have been free from the constant scrutiny of Hollywood, but it presented its own challenges. She was isolated, reliant on others, and unaccustomed to navigating this unfamiliar world.

Taking off her dress, Halona collapsed onto the bed and stared at the moonlight shining through the window. The creaking of floorboards from the next room caught her attention. Buck. Was he struggling too? Did he feel the same restless yearning that she did? The sound of his movement continued for a while before finally stopping. Halona lay there, listening to the quiet of the night, her frustration growing with each passing minute. This game they were playing, pretending to not want what they both desired, was pointless. The tension between them was building, and it would only continue if they didn't address it.

With a determined sigh, Halona threw back the covers and crept down the hallway. Her bare feet made a soft slapping sound against the cold floorboards as she approached Buck's door. She hesitated before pushing it open slightly. Moonlight flooded in, revealing his form on the bed. His steady breathing provided a sense of comfort in the stillness of the night.

"Buck?" She whispered.

He didn't move, but the subtle change in his breathing suggested he was awake. She inhaled deeply and crept into the room, shutting the door behind her with a soft click. She tiptoed towards the bed, her heart pounding in her chest. With a slight hesitation, she slipped under the covers and cuddled up to him from behind, seeking warmth and connection. However Buck remained tense, his back to her. A feeling of disappointment washed over Halona as she released her embrace and sat up.

"Are you upset?" Halona asked gently, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from Buck's forehead.

Buck shifted slightly on the lumpy mattress, his expression a mix of pain and frustration. "No," he murmured, his voice rough with exhaustion and something more, something she couldn't quite determine. "I'm not upset."

Halona studied the taut lines of his face, the slight downturn of his lips. "Then what is it?" She prodded softly.

He let out a long, weary sigh that seemed to deflate his broad chest. "It hurts," he finally admitted, holding her searching gaze. "Knowing that you don't want to be here."

"Buck, it's not that." Halona's breath caught in her throat as despair welled up inside her. The weight of her impossible situation, the agonizing decisions looming ahead, threatened to crush her. She blinked back hot tears. "I don't know how long I'll be here. I don't know when... if I can go home." Her voice cracked with emotion.

"If given the choice, you wouldn't stay here," Buck's handsome features contorted with sadness and he reached out, cupping her cheek. "With me."

Halona's chest ached as she looked into the depths of his soulful eyes. "You don't understand," she stuttered, tears spilling over. "You don't know what you're asking me to give up..."

"I know you miss your old life. I can see it in your eyes, the longing and heartache you try to hide." His thumb stroked her cheekbone as he spoke softly, trying to soothe the growing rift between them. "I just don't know why you're pushing me away."

His raw words hung heavy in the air, laying bare the truth Halona had been desperately avoiding. She turned away from the naked emotion in his gaze, her heart pounding violently against her ribs.

"How can you be so cold?" There was an accusatory edge to Buck's gravelly voice now.

Halona whipped back around, anger flaring hot within her. "I'm not being cold," she retorted, voice rising defensively. "I'm being honest!"

In one swift movement, Buck grabbed her upper thigh and trailed his hand up over the swell of her hip, bunching her thin chemise. He pulled her down, onto her back and ripped the flimsy fabric open, baring her body to his heated gaze.

"Let's be honest then," he growled, desire and desperation darkening his eyes. "Is this why you came in here tonight?"

His lips descended on hers, devouring her mouth with an insatiable need. She could feel the strength in his grip as he pinned her wrists above her head, his fingers digging into her skin with an unyielding force. The intensity of his touch sent a surge of electricity through her body leaving her breathless. His mouth followed his hands, exploring every inch of her with a possessive intensity. She arched beneath him, lost in the sensations coursing through her veins. The way he gripped her hips told her that he was in control, and she willingly surrendered herself to him.

Expertly his skilled hand sought out the source of her pleasure. With gentle strokes, he caressed the sensitive flesh, eliciting gasps and moans from her trembling body. Without pause, he slipped one finger inside of her, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through every inch of her. As she lay panting and writhing with need, he settled between her thighs and traced his tongue up her center. She could feel her legs quivering with anticipation as he slowly made his way towards her most sensitive spot. And when his tongue finally made contact, she lost herself in an endless spiral of ecstasy that left her gasping for air and begging for more.

As he continued his exploration, he knew she was completely at his mercy. Her moans grew louder and more fervent, urging him further. He slid another finger inside of her, stretching her and sending shivers of delight rushing through her veins. His thumb pressed against her sensitive nub, sending wave after wave of pleasure coursing through her.

His tongue danced over her most intimate parts, teasing and tormenting her as she thrashed beneath him. The room filled with the sound of her strained breaths and muffled moans of pleasure. Her body trembled, on the brink of ecstasy again. He wanted to be there with her, to feel every quiver and gasp as she reached climax. Unable to resist any longer, he raised himself above her and positioned himself between her legs. With one swift movement, he entered her, feeling the warmth and tightness envelop him completely.

With each stroke, her body tightened around him. His need for her grew stronger with each passing moment, and he knew that he could not hold back any longer. His thrusts became faster and harder, his body slamming against hers.

He continued to thrust, his hips moving in a relentless rhythm as her moans of pleasure echoed around them. The sounds of their lovemaking filled the room, their bodies melded together. He could feel his own climax building, the tension in his body growing with each passing second. With one final thrust, he released within her.

They lay silent for some time, his hand rested on her chest as he felt her heart rate gradually return to its usual pace. As Halona's breathing deepened, Buck propped himself up on one elbow, his eyes tracing the contours of her face in the dim light. The curve of her cheekbone, the slight part of her lips – he committed every detail to memory. A knot of fear tightened in his gut. He was at a loss with her.

His relationship with Halona had become something he never expected. He loved her deeply, and his children had grown just as attached. The thought of losing her filled him with dread. Buck swallowed hard, trying to dislodge the lump in his throat. He'd already experienced so much loss – the prospect of Halona leaving his life too was almost unbearable.

Chapter 24

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

The rooster's piercing crow shattered the peaceful dawn, dragging Halona from a fitful slumber. "We should've eaten that little fuck nugget," she grumbled, blinking her eyes open against the bright morning light. Her body protested as she shifted on the lumpy mattress, every muscle screaming in dull, achy protest after days of unaccustomed physical exertion.

Halona pushed herself upright, fighting back a yawn as her eyes adjusted to the dim light. For a moment, confusion washed over her. This wasn't her bedroom. The unfamiliar walls, the different scent in the air – it all felt wrong.

Then the memories came rushing back, hitting her like a wave. Buck's face was tense in the flickering candlelight. Their voices, rising and falling as they hashed out all the things left unsaid for too long. And then...

A flush of heat bloomed in Halona's chest as she remembered what came after. The desperate press of lips, hands grasping, bodies moving together with an intensity that left her breathless even now. She could almost feel the ghost of Buck's touch on her skin.

Shaking her head to clear it, Halona forced herself to focus. The little ones would be awake soon, their hungry voices echoing through the house. She needed to get moving, to face whatever this new day might bring.

Her eyes scanned the room, locating her scattered clothes. As she reached for her chemise, a nagging thought wormed its way into her mind. After everything that happened last night, would Buck even join them for breakfast? Or would he find some excuse to avoid her, to avoid facing what had passed between them?

Stepping out into the brisk morning air, she hurried across the hard-packed dirt yard towards the root cellar, shivering as the cold penetrated her simple clothes. Grasping the wooden door handle, she pulled it open to reveal the dimly lit interior. In this moment, she understood the practical appeal of an underground pantry - nature's refrigeration system, at least during the bitterly cold winter months.

"Mother of fuck!" Halona jumped back, hand flying to her chest as a figure emerged from the shadows. "You just scared the shit out of me!"

Buck squinted up at her, his handsome face splitting into an amused grin at her peculiar turn of phrase. "Sorry 'bout that. I just wanted to talk to you privately before the kids got up and started hollerin'."

"Oh?" Halona raised an eyebrow, the memory of him slipping silently from the bed that morning still stinging.

His expression sobered and he averted his eyes. "Hallie, I'm sorry about last night." He cleared his throat and continued. "I didn't intend to be so..." He trailed off, seemingly unable to find the right word.

"Rough?" she supplied flatly.

"I got carried away." Buck nodded, finally meeting her searching gaze again. "Crossed a line."

"I'm not upset about that," Halona assured him, rolling her eyes at his worried frown. Though her body still bore the faint ache of their passionate coupling, his urgency had awoken something deep within her too.

Buck's voice was soft, tentative. "But you are still upset?"

"Could be waking up alone in your bed, for one." She shot back, unable to keep the hurt from her voice. Her mind flashed back to the night before - the warmth of his touch, the intensity in his eyes, the way his hands had traced every curve of her body. Now, in the cold light of day, that intimacy felt like a distant memory.

Buck shifted his weight, the floorboards creaking beneath his feet as he walked behind her and gently touched her arm. The warmth of his hand seeped through the thin fabric of her sleeve.

"Darlin', I didn't want to wake you," he said finally, his voice low and rough with emotion.

Halona sighed heavily, closing her eyes. She knew, rationally, that she couldn't fault Buck for her turbulent emotions. She had done her best to keep him at arm's length these past few months, to push him away out of fear of losing herself in this strange new world.

"I'm going to get breakfast started," she announced abruptly, turning on her heel. She paused before retreating to the house and glanced back at him over her shoulder. "Are you going to join us?"

A teasing grin played over his lips. "Are you going to burn it?"

She couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from twitching upwards in response. "Mhmm probably."

"Alright then, sounds good." Buck chuckled.

Halona felt her shoulders finally relaxing as she made her way to the kitchen. "Would you grab those potatoes?" She called out, gesturing vaguely towards the cellar before bending to retrieve the side of thick-cut bacon from the cold storage box.

"Christmas dinner did cross my mind," she continued as Buck reappeared, her words tumbling out in a nervous rush. "I mean, I only know a few dishes but maybe we could invite Mr. Hickok over? And cut down a tree with the kids this week to decorate?" She paused, casting a hesitant look in his direction. "Lots of maybes, I know, but...what do you think?"

"I think that sounds just perfect," he replied, his voice brimming with warmth and affection.

As their eyes met and held, Halona felt something fragile yet vital spark to life between them. A tentative peace offering, a bridge, beginning to form over the gulf of her past and this new future she was slowly, steadily allowing herself to embrace.

Chapter 25

Shadow Valley, Texas - 1870

Buck steadied the buckboard as Halona climbed onto the creaking wooden bench. He patiently explained the wagon's brake system for what seemed like the tenth time, his voice laced with a mixture of amusement and concern. Halona suppressed a smile. Buck's protectiveness was sweet, but a little overbearing at times.

Isaac, perched proudly beside her, puffed out his chest in agreement. "Hallie's got this, Pa!" he declared.

Buck chuckled, his gaze lingering on Halona. "Alright, alright," he conceded. "But remember Isaac," he continued, his voice turning serious, "If anything goes wrong, you're in charge."

Halona rolled her eyes, a playful smile across her lips. "Nothing is going to go wrong, Buck," she assured him. "We're on a simple mission – groceries for Christmas dinner and inviting Mr. Hickok."

"And a peppermint stick for me!" Chimed in Megan from the back of the buckboard.

Halona winked at Megan, placing a finger over her lips. "Shhh, Megs," she teased. "This is why we can't have nice things."

Buck's booming laughter filled the air. "Keeping secrets from your old man, are we? Well, you better bring me back a peppermint stick too."

With a final wave goodbye to Buck, Halona snapped the reins. A surge of exhilaration coursed through her veins as the horses whinnied and lurched forward. For a moment, she felt a sense of accomplishment, the earlier tension with Buck fading into the background.

Isaac, perched beside her on the buckboard, was practically bouncing with excitement. His words tumbled out in a rush of youthful enthusiasm. "What was it like living with Uncle Red Bear? Did you hunt buffalo? Did you sleep in a tipi?"

Halona couldn't help but smile at his curiosity. "Well," she began, her voice warm with nostalgia, "your Uncle Red Bear taught me many things..."

His questions were a welcome distraction, keeping her mind off the more complicated aspects of her current situation. The rhythmic clop of the horses' hooves and the gentle sway of the wagon lulled her into a sense of normalcy.

As they approached the general store, Halona pulled the buckboard to a stop. She hopped down, her boots hitting the dusty street with a soft thud. It wasn't until that moment, as she reached back to help the children, that she noticed the atmosphere had changed.

The usual bustle of the town seemed muted. People stood in small clusters, their conversations dying down as Halona passed. She could feel their eyes on her, burning with curiosity and something darker.

"Witch!"

The word cut through the air like a knife. Halona turned, her heart racing, but in the crowd of five or six people gathered nearby, she couldn't pinpoint who had spoken. Not that it mattered, really. The damage was done.

Taking a deep breath, Halona forced herself to smile. She reached into the wagon, lifting Megan out with practiced ease. The little girl's warm weight in her arms was comforting, a reminder of what really mattered.

"Come on, sweetie," Halona said, her voice steady despite the knot of anxiety forming in her stomach. "Let's go get those supplies."

Her grip tightened around Megan's hand as they walked towards the store, the jeering whispers following them like a swarm of angry bees. Another voice, loud and hateful, pierced the air – 'savage' the word vile and laced with venom. Before she could react, a searing pain erupted on her shoulder.

Halona gasped, a strangled cry escaping her lips. She whirled around, her vision momentarily blurred by a surge of white-hot pain. Then came the second blow, a rock striking her eyebrow with a sickening thud. The world exploded in stars, and a crimson warmth trickled down her face.

Panic seized her. Ignoring the throbbing pain, she crouched low, using her body to shield Megan from the unseen attackers.

"Isaac!" She screamed, her voice hoarse with terror.

The taunts continued, drowning out the world around her. But then, through the haze of fear and pain, a different sound cut through the air – the sharp crack of gunfire.

A booming voice, deep and authoritative, bellowed a single command.

"Move on!"

The crowd seemed to scatter at once, the jeering dissolving into a low murmur. Suddenly, a strong arm wrapped around her shoulders, steadying her. A gentle hand touched her face, wiping away the blood that streamed down her temple.

Jimmy's voice cut through the haze of terror, his deep baritone a beacon of safety. "Let's get you all inside my office," he said, his gaze flickering with concern as he examined the wound above Halona's eyebrow.

"Thank you," Halona stammered, clutching a whimpering Megan close. This was the second time Jimmy had come to her rescue, a fact that wasn't lost on her. "Isaac?" She called out, her voice raspy with unshed tears.

"Here!" A moment later, Isaac emerged from beneath the buckboard, his face a mask of worry.

"You're such a brave boy," Halona murmured, ruffling his hair with a trembling hand.

Isaac's gaze, however, remained glued to the blood trickling down Halona's cheek. "Why did they do that to you?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Halona knelt before him, her heart heavy. "We'll talk about it at home, sweetheart," she promised, taking his hand in hers. Right now, all she wanted was to get the children to safety.

As they walked towards the Marshal's office, Jimmy's concern mirrored her own. "What brings you into town today?" He inquired.

"We came to get some things for Christmas dinner," Halona replied, forcing a smile. "And to see if you'd be interested in joining us."

"Buck didn't come with you?" Jimmy raised an eyebrow, offering her a chair to sit on.

Halona rolled her eyes, a flicker of bitterness edging into her voice. "He thought this… silliness… would have blown over by now." The word felt inadequate to describe the viciousness of the attack.

"Don't worry, this cut don't look too bad." Jimmy said gently.

Halona sank into the chair, pulling a grateful Megan onto her lap and wrapping a protective arm around Isaac. The world felt a little less scary with Jimmy by her side.

"Why don't you hand me that grocery list," Jimmy suggested, "and I'll have one of my deputies stay with you while I run down to the store."

"Thank you, Mr. —" Halona began.

"Jimmy," he interrupted with a warm smile.

"Thank you, Jimmy," she amended, handing him the list and the money Buck had entrusted her with.

The moment Jimmy left, Isaac's voice, small and hesitant, filled the silence. "Was it cause you're… Indian?"

Halona met his gaze, her heart clenching. "I don't know, honey," she admitted honestly.

Halona's heart ached for the children. They shouldn't have to witness such hatred, such ignorance. She gathered them both close. Isaac snuggled into her embrace, but Halona could see the flicker of fear and confusion in his eyes.

Chapter 26

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

They sat in silence for the majority of the way back to the ranch. Halona sat between the children, her arms wrapped tightly around their small frames. Megan, exhausted by the ordeal, drifted off to sleep, her head lolling against Halona's chest. The rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves seemed to echo the pounding in Halona's head, a dull ache that throbbed with every bump on the road.

As they rounded the bend that brought the ranch into view, a wave of relief washed over her. But the sight of Buck rushing out of the house, his face etched with worry, sent a fresh jolt of tension through her. He looked like a man caught in a nightmare. She knew that look all too well.

"What happened?" Buck's voice was rough, laced with barely contained panic.

"It's alright," Jimmy said, his voice a steady counterpoint to Buck's agitation. "Everything is under control."

Halona forced a smile, her lips feeling stiff and unnatural. "Isaac, sweetheart," she said gently, "why don't you head upstairs and get into your pajamas?" Halona handed Megan, who was still fast asleep to her father.

Buck's gaze snagged on the angry red gash above her eyebrow, his eyes widening in alarm. "Halona, what happened?"

"Just a little souvenir from our trip into town," she replied, her voice flat. The anger she'd managed to suppress on the ride home threatened to bubble to the surface.

"Tell you about it later," she mumbled, turning away from him. "I'm going to put this food away."

"You go in and wash that cut, sit down. I'll take care of this." Jimmy took the sack of carrots from her hands and pushed her gently towards the house.

She didn't have the energy to argue. Her body ached and her head throbbed. She stumbled into the kitchen and filled a large pot with water before carefully carrying it into the parlor and setting it next to the fireplace. She settled into Buck's favorite chair, sinking into the plush cushions that still held his familiar scent, bringing a sense of comfort. With her eyes closed, she let out a deep sigh and drifted off to sleep in the warmth of the fire.

Chapter 27

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona stirred as a warm washcloth touched her forehead. Buck's gentle hands dabbed away the dried blood.

"Did I fall asleep?" She mumbled, her eyelids fluttering open.

"For a while," Buck murmured, his voice low and soothing. He wrung out the cloth and brought it back, the warm water easing the sting on her wound. "Jimmy told me what happened."

Halona squeezed her eyes shut, the memory replaying in her mind. "It was awful," she whispered.

"I'm sorry," Buck brushed her hair back.

"I'm used to critics, even haters on the internet, but this…" she said, her voice cracking slightly. "This was different."

Buck didn't reply, but she felt his arm encircle her shoulders, a silent show of support. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling over onto her cheeks. She leaned into his touch, finding solace in his comforting presence.

"The anger… it just boiled up inside me," she confessed, her voice thick with emotion. "They were shouting such horrible things – witch, whore, savage…"

Buck's jaw clenched, and Halona could sense the anger radiating off him.

"Come on, let's get you to bed." He scooped her up effortlessly. "Put your arm around my neck," he instructed gently.

He carried her down the hallway, pausing briefly at her bedroom door as he fumbled with the doorknob. A whimper escaped her lips, a silent plea that tugged at his heartstrings.

"I don't want to sleep alone," she mumbled, clinging to him tighter.

Turning on his heel, he carried her to his room instead. Laying her gently on the familiar bed, he knelt beside her and helped her out of the dress. Tucking her in securely, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her face.

"Goodnight, Hallie," he whispered, his voice thick with tenderness.

Buck wrapped his arms around her, cradling her close to his chest. She snuggled closer, her fingers curling around the fabric of his worn cotton shirt, holding him tightly. He gently stroked her hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers. The rhythmic motion seemed to soothe them both. The soft ticking of the old grandfather clock in the corner marked the passing moments.

"It's okay," Buck murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm here."

Halona didn't respond, but he felt her grip on his shirt loosen slightly. As the minutes ticked by, he noticed her breathing begin to slow and even out. He continued to hold her, his own eyes growing heavy as the emotional toll of the day caught up with him.

"Thank you for protecting my children." Buck leaned down, his lips brushing softly against her forehead. "I love you," he confessed, the words a silent vow to keep her safe, no matter the cost.

Chapter 28

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

"Come on, slow pokes!" Buck's booming voice called out from the porch, dragging Halona's attention from the muffin batter she was mixing.

"We're comin', Papa!" Megan came out the front door, her chubby legs working overtime to keep upright on the slick wooden planks. She teetered precariously before sliding right into Buck's waiting arms with a squeal of delight.

"Whoa there, darlin'," he chuckled, steadying her with a gentle squeeze. "You gotta watch your step on this ice."

"Halona looks silly!" Isaac giggled, clumping over in his oversized winter boots and plopping down to tug on his woolen mittens.

Buck's gaze swung to Halona emerging from the house, swimming in one of his giant coats that engulfed her petite frame completely. "Ain't nice to say that about a lady." He took in the comically oversized shoulders and sleeves hanging past her hands before throwing his head back with a deep belly laugh.

"What was that about not laughing?" Halona shot him a mock glare, sticking her hands on her hips in feigned indignation. The coat sleeves were so ridiculously long that her forearms disappeared entirely into the fabric, leaving just her mittened hands poking out the ends like disjointed wings.

"Alright, alright," Buck held up his palms in surrender, still grinning broadly. "C'mere, let me fix you up proper."

Halona obediently shuffled over as he retrieved a length of rope from the back of the waiting buckboard wagon. With deft motions, he wrapped it twice around her slender waist and knotted it securely before fashioning a slipknot to cinch the coat in closer to her body. Rolling up each billowing sleeve twice, he finally stepped back with a satisfied nod.

"All better now, ain't it?" His deep voice was warm with affection.

"Much better, thank you." Halona couldn't help but return his smile as he took her mittened hand and helped boost her up onto the buckboard bench.

Isaac hopped up next, nestling in on her other side as Buck clicked the reins and the sturdy horses began plodding forward through the fresh layer of pristine snow. "Let's go find our tree!"

"Papa, someone's coming!" Isaac suddenly piped up, pointing down the rutted dirt road with a mitten-clad hand.

"Hallie," Buck's relaxed demeanor shifted in an instant, his shoulders squaring as a carriage appeared through the swirling flurries. "Take the kids inside," he instructed Halona in a low tone, his eyes never leaving the approaching coach.

Halona quickly ushered the two youngsters back inside, settling them on the sofa before crouching by the frosty window. She peered out with bated breath as the sleek black carriage pulled up, anticipation tightening the muscles along her spine. Relief washed over her as Fiona emerged, a heavy shawl clutched tightly around her shoulders against the biting chill. The other woman rushed forward without preamble.

"I just heard about that terrible incident yesterday!" Fiona cried out, throwing her arms around Buck in an exuberant embrace despite his rigid posture. "I was simply sick to my core when I thought your poor darling children had been put in harm's way by that wretched woman!"

Halona stifled a snicker at Buck's obvious discomfort under Fiona's overly-familiar onslaught.

"They weren't in any danger from her," Buck corrected once Fiona released him, keeping her at arm's length.

The other woman's bright smile faltered slightly at his refutation. "But can't you see it's her mere presence?"

Buck's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. "I believe you've outstayed your welcome, Miss Hayes." He gestured towards her awaiting carriage, the crunch of snow under his boots punctuating the terse words.

Fiona's eyes went wide with surprise and outrage. "You vile, ungrateful man. I'll pray the good Lord opens your eyes to that deceiver's wicked ways!" She spun on her heel, skirts swirling, and marched back towards her carriage, slamming the door behind her with an indignant huff.

Halona remained frozen by the window until the sleek black carriage had disappeared back down the snowy road before finally creaking the front door open a sliver. "Everything okay?"

Buck looked over, the hard planes of his face softening as his gaze met hers. "Everything's perfect. C'mon, we've got us a tree to find!" he called cheerfully, throwing his hands up in a grand gesture as the children came scampering back out.

The rest of the morning passed in a whirlwind of laughter and rosy-cheeked exertion as they trooped out to the small cluster of pines at the edge of Buck's land. Halona led a rousing chorus of carols as the buckboard bumped along, their voices ringing out in joyful harmony against the pristine winter backdrop.

It took nearly an hour of vigorous debate, with each member of the family emphatically casting their vote for the "perfect" tree, before Halona finally settled the dispute. Burrowing her hands deep into the pockets of Buck's oversized coat, she crunched through the fresh drifts towards a stately fir situated just beyond the others. As she circled it slowly, admiring the lush, fragrant branches and deep green hue, she knew, this was the one.

The cold nipped at Buck's cheeks, a sharp sting that made his breath visible in the twilight. He swung the ax again, the bite of steel into frozen wood a familiar rhythm. "Well?" he shouted over the crunch of snow, his voice muffled by a knit scarf. "You see something you like?"

Halona stood a good distance away, snowflakes were beginning to stick to her dark hair, and in the fading light, she looked like a figure from a storybook. "Sure do," she replied. Her lips curved into a sly grin, and one eyebrow lifted in a silent challenge. Buck couldn't help but smile back.

Oblivious to the undercurrent of tension, Isaak and Megan darted through the snow-covered underbrush, their laughter ringing out crisp and clear in the winter air. Their breath puffed out in little clouds as they chased each other, dodging bare tree trunks and leaping over fallen branches.

Buck stood still, watching them intently. His eyes tracked their movements, drinking in every detail as if he were trying to etch the scene permanently into his mind. The way the weak winter sunlight caught Megan's hair, the sound of Isaak's whooping cry as he narrowly avoided his sister's outstretched hand. The contrast of their bright coats against the stark white of the snow.

A lump formed in Buck's throat, and he swallowed hard against the sudden wave of emotion. These were the good times, he realized. Simple moments of joy and innocence, untouched by the complications of adult life. He wanted to remember this scene when he was old and gray, when his joints ached and his memories were all he had left.

The cold nipped at his exposed skin, but Buck didn't move. He stood rooted to the spot, committing every sight, sound, and sensation to memory. The crunch of snow under the children's boots. The way the bare trees creaked softly in the light breeze. The crisp, clean scent of winter in the air.

As he watched his children play, Buck felt a bittersweet ache in his chest. Time was slipping by so quickly, and moments like these were precious and fleeting. He silently vowed to cherish them while he could, storing them up like treasures to revisit in the lonely days of old age.

What made the scene truly complete was Halona's presence beside him. She stood close enough that he could feel the warmth radiating from her body, a stark contrast to the chill in the air. Her eyes, too, were fixed on the children, a soft smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

With a final, satisfying crack, the tree Buck had been working on toppled. It was a beauty, its branches heavy with snow. He hauled it onto the sled, the weight of it was a welcome warmth against his hands. As they made their way back to the wagon, the children's giggles carried on the wind, a cheerful melody that soothed the ache in his heart. Halona's hand brushed against his as they passed the reins, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine.

Wrapped in blankets, the four of them huddled together on the buckboard. Isaak and Megan sang off-key Christmas carols, Halona hummed along, her eyes closed, a serene expression on her face. Buck found himself watching her, the lines of her face softened by the soft glow of the lantern.

In that moment, with the family gathered around him, a sense of peace washed over Buck. It was a fragile hope, but it settled in his chest and warmed him from the inside out. Maybe, just maybe, they could weather whatever storms lay ahead together. As the wagon creaked its way home through the silent darkness, Buck held onto that feeling of hope and promise.

Chapter 29

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

It was Christmas Day, and Buck had given his ranch hands the last couple of days off. Alone, he tackled the chores, the frigid air was invigorating, despite the sweat clinging to him. He wasn't doing any extra work, just the necessities, but feeding and cleaning all the animals alone was a full day's job and he was trying to hurry up to be done and clean up before dinner. As he turned to unlock the corral gate, a vision cut through the gentle flurries of snow. Halona walked from the house, a plate and glass balanced on a tray.

"You didn't think I'd let you skip lunch, did you, cowboy?" She teased.

"Thanks. I was just trying to get this finished before dinner."

"I figured." She set the tray on a hay bale, deftly taking the rake from his hand. "But you should eat something."

Buck leaned against the barn door, a playful glint in his eyes. "What's that smirk for?"

Halona took a step closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Maybe I just appreciate a hard-working man."

Before he could respond, she surprised him with a soft kiss, her lips tasting of cinnamon and coffee. A spark burned through him, momentarily erasing thoughts of chores.

"I'm all sweaty," Buck mumbled, self-consciously pushing a strand of hair back.

"I don't care," she countered, her smile widening. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him into a deeper kiss.

The heat of her body pressed against his, a stark contrast to the cold winter air. His hands found their way to her lower back, pulling her closer. The kiss grew heated a delicious mix of need and affection.

Suddenly, a shrill cry broke the spell. "Hallie! The cookies are done!" Isaac's voice echoed from the porch.

"Duty calls, cowboy." Halona pulled back reluctantly, her breath ragged. She nipped playfully at his bottom lip, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Don't be too long out here."

Buck grinned, watching her walk away, his heart pounding a happy rhythm against his ribs. "Yes, ma'am," he chuckled, the simple command laced with warmth.

Chapter 30

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Halona hummed contentedly as she basted the pot roast, her mind swirling with memories of her mother's version. She'd been thinking about this dish for days, and the rich aroma filling the kitchen was a promising sign. She couldn't resist sneaking a bite – a satisfied smile playing on her lips as the flavors danced on her tongue.

Isaac and Megan were busy decorating sugar cookies, their laughter echoing through the house. By the time they finished, popcorn garlands adorned the Christmas tree, and both children were vibrating with excitement. A giant wrapped present sat in the corner of the parlor, practically begging to be unwrapped, but Buck had them firmly distracted with other tasks.

As dusk settled, Halona pulled the roast from the oven, setting it aside to rest.

"Mmm, that smells amazing," Buck murmured, surprising her with a kiss on the neck.

"I hope it tastes as good as it smells," Halona admitted with a nervous smile. "I was trying to remember my mother's recipe."

"I'm sure it's delicious," Buck reassured her, squeezing her shoulder. "I'm going to get cleaned up for dinner."

A shout came from the doorway. "Jimmy's here!"

"I'll get it," Buck called back. "You stay here and help Halona."

Halona chuckled. "He's not letting you near that present, Isaac."

"What?" Isaac protested. "I wasn't even thinking about it!"

"Boy, am I glad I came over tonight!" The front door swung open, revealing Jimmy. "It smells fantastic in here!"

"Thanks, Jimmy," Halona replied.

"I helped make the cookies!" Megan chimed in.

Jimmy squatted down to her level. "I'll make sure to have two." He said, planting a kiss on her cheek.

"We made a shark mooterie!" Isaac bounded into the kitchen.

"A who who-oterie?" Jimmy shook his head and laughed.

"Charcuterie," Halona chuckled, pointing to the overflowing plate of meats and cheeses. "Sorry, they're hopped up on sugar."

Jimmy chuckled as she scooped up a giggling Megan before she could reach for another lick of icing.

"Buck should be down soon," Halona said, ushering the children towards the hallway. "I'm just going to get them ready for dinner."

"Take your time," Jimmy replied, grabbing a slice of cheese.

"Isaac, put on those nice clothes I laid out for you, okay?" Halona instructed.

"Okay," Isaac mumbled around a mouthful of cookies.

"Do I get to wear my fancy dress now?" Megan asked, her eyes sparkling.

"Of course you do, sweetie," Halona confirmed.

Halona walked Megan upstairs, her tiny hand warm in hers. Reaching Megan's room, Halona helped her into the red taffeta dress. Carefully braiding Megan's hair down her back, Halona secured it with a bright red ribbon that matched the dress perfectly. With a final kiss on the forehead, she sent Megan downstairs and then retreated to her room to change her clothes.

Meanwhile, downstairs in the dining room, a warm and inviting scene unfolded. Candlelight flickered on the table, casting a soft glow on the festive decorations. Strings of cranberries and popcorn snaked around the branches of the tree Buck had cut the day before in the corner of the room.

Crimson and emerald ornaments twinkled merrily, reflecting the dancing flames from the fire. The rich aroma of roasting meat mingled with the sweet scent of pine, filling the air with the promise of Christmas cheer. Buck, with a playful glint in his eye, instructed the children on how to set the table, their laughter echoing amidst the gentle clinking of silverware.

"Isaac, you might want to slow down on that bread," Buck cautioned, his voice a touch lower than usual as he watched his son quickly grab one of the warm dinner rolls. "You don't want to spoil your appetite for dinner." He cast a quick, worried glance at Jimmy. "Can you help me bring the roast out?"

"Sure thing," Jimmy replied, following Buck into the kitchen.

"What's going on in town?" Buck asked as they transferred the roast to a serving platter.

Jimmy's expression darkened. "It ain't good," he said, shaking his head. "You need to keep her out of sight for a while. Some kid got sick, and his parents are blaming her."

"Damn it," Buck sighed heavily.

"What are you two conspiring in here?" Halona teased as she opened the door and both men turned with startled looks on their faces.

"We were just bringing the food in, darlin'," Buck said quickly, holding up the roast.

Halona eyed them both suspiciously but obliged him and joined the children at the table.

The rich aroma of pot roast filled the kitchen, mingling with the scents of rosemary and thyme. Buck carefully lifted the heavy dish, steam rising from the tender meat and vegetables.

"Darlin'?" Jimmy smirked, one eyebrow arching as he held the kitchen door open. The word hung in the air, tinged with playful mockery.

Buck shot his friend a warning glance but despite his best efforts, his lips curved into an unmistakable smirk. It was subtle, but to Jimmy, who knew Buck better than almost anyone, it might as well have been a full-blown grin. That tiny expression confirmed everything Jimmy had suspected.

The air in the room seemed to shift, filled with an unspoken understanding between the two men. Buck's attempt at nonchalance had failed spectacularly, and they both knew it. Jimmy chuckled softly, shaking his head in amusement at his friend's transparent attempt at indifference.

Jimmy followed close behind, balancing a bowl of mashed potatoes and a gravy boat. The sounds of laughter and clinking cutlery drifted from the dining room, Christmas cheer spilling into the hallway.

As they approached the dining room door, Buck paused for a moment. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the onslaught of family, food, and the undoubtedly relentless teasing from Jimmy. But the smile on his face only grew wider.

Chapter 31

Shadow Valley, Texas 1870

Everyone sat around the fireplace as Isaac and Megan eagerly awaited the opening of the giant present that was wrapped in the corner of the room. Halona had to laugh, Buck was really dragging it out. He was talking about everything he could think of from his old pony express stories to Christmas at the Mission School. Finally, he told them they could go ahead and open the present.

"Woah!" Isaac clunked his fingers on the keys. "This is just like the one they have at that church Papa."

"Make it play Papa," Megan said.

"Well, you don't make it play," Buck told her. "You have to learn how to play it."

"Oh," Megan looked at him blankly.

"But you know," Buck looked across the room at Halona. "We know someone that does."

"Can you make it play?" Megan asked Halona, looking up at her excitedly.

"I will, on one condition." Halona walked over to the piano and sat down. "You each have to sit right next to me and sing very loudly."

"Ok." Isaac sat down.

"I expect you both to sing as well." She looked over her shoulder at Buck and Jimmy.

The piano rang lyrically through the house as she played Silent Night, followed by three other Christmas songs. Jimmy said good night and Buck got the children ready for bed as Halona cleaned the table and the dishes. She found a Bible on the shelves in the parlor and took it up to Megan's room where she found Megan in bed and Isaac and Buck sitting on the edge.

"Would you guys mind if I shared a family tradition that my family did at Christmas?"

"Of course, please," Buck said.

"Every Christmas my mom and dad would read the story about why we celebrate Christmas. It's about Jesus being born."

"Is he the baby that the church puts out on their roof every year?" Isaac asked.

Buck nodded, he wasn't sure how well this was going to go. He had raised his children, to be honest and to speak their minds. The mission school had drilled the Christian way into him, with its stern hymns and fire-and-brimstone sermons. Yet, beneath that veneer, the whispers of his ancestors still echoed in his heart. Theirs was a different kind of faith, woven into the land itself, passed down through generations

"I want to hear the story about the baby Jesus." Megan said.

"Okay." Halona sat on the bed and put her arm around Megan. "And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree, that's an announcement, from Cæsar Augustus, that all the world should be taxed."

Buck had heard this story many times in his youth and adulthood but never with the conviction and the tenderness that she told it. Although she read the direct words, she also explained to the children in words they would understand what they meant.

"And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them."

"I like that story." Megan smiled and blinked her eyes sleepily.

"I think it's time for you to go to sleep little princess." Halona kissed her forehead.

"Will you teach me how to play the piano?" Isaac asked on the way to his room.

"Of course I will."

"Goodnight." He hugged Halona, then his father.

"Night son."

"I had a pretty good night. What about you?" She smiled and turned to Buck.

"You're amazing." With a gentle pull, Buck drew her close, and his lips met hers in a soft, lingering kiss.

Pulling away, a sigh escaped Halona's lips, a mixture of contentment and something deeper. "What was that for?" She asked, leaning into the comfortable embrace of his arm.

"Well…" Buck began, trailing off as he searched for the right words. "I've been wrestling with how to explain things to the kids, with my own upbringing and lingering questions." He ran a hand through his hair, frustration momentarily etched on his face. "Honestly, I still struggle with finding answers for myself sometimes."

Halona squeezed his hand gently. "You don't have to have all the answers," she reassured him. "None of us do."

"My childhood was a blend of Kiowa traditions and the Catholic teachings I received at the mission school. While some aspects of Christianity resonate with me, others don't quite fit."

She scooted closer, settling comfortably beside him. "Your children see all the good in you – your honesty, your unwavering love for them, your hard work. Every day, you lead by example."

"Tell me about your childhood." He pressed his lips to her temple and kissed her softly.

The warmth of the fire seemed to dim slightly as Halona turned to him. Taking a deep breath, she finally spoke, "Well," she began, a sigh escaping her lips, "you know I'm adopted."

Buck nodded, his expression a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"But there's more to the story," he prompted gently.

Hesitation flickered across Halona's face. "What I know about my birth mother," she began slowly, "is that she… she was a prostitute." A heavy silence descended as the weight of her words settled between them. "I don't even know why I'm telling you this," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper. "I've never told anyone."

Not even Sydney.

Sydney's image appeared in her mind. Her best friend's infectious grin and the sound of her laughter echoed in Halona's memory. The ache in her chest intensified. How long had it been since she'd thought of Sydney? The guilt of forgetting, even momentarily, mingled with the pain of remembrance.

Despite the warmth surrounding her, a sudden chill ran through her body. A pang of homesickness hit her, sharp and unexpected. These feelings had become less frequent the longer she spent in this time, but occasionally, a vivid memory would catch her off guard, transporting her back to a world that now felt like a distant dream.

Halona took a deep breath, grounding herself, reminding her of where - and when - she was now. This was her reality now, for better or worse. She had a new life here, a family, children who needed her, and Buck...

Buck reached out, his hand resting on her shoulder, a silent offer of comfort. "You can tell me anything," he said softly.

Taking another deep breath, she continued, "From what I understand, I was… inconvenient to her lifestyle. I guess I should be grateful she didn't…" Her voice trailed off, the unspoken word hanging heavy in the air. "Maybe she thought having a baby would change things, but…"

Halona closed her eyes, drawing strength from his touch. "They celebrated my arrival with… with friends and a lot of drugs and alcohol," she revealed, her voice trembling slightly. "They left me in the car. When the police found me, I was barely alive." A shudder ran through her as she told him about her tragic birth. "The truth is my parents… they gave up their rights for a lesser sentence. They never wanted me."

Buck felt a surge of anger on her behalf but knew this wasn't the time to express it. He simply tightened his grip slightly, offering silent support.

"But the irony," she continued, a faint, bitter laugh escaping her lips, "is that my birth name… Halona… it means 'happy fortune.'"

"What about your last name?" Buck asked gently.

"Well, besides being a sperm donor, it's the only thing my biological father ever gave me," she said with a sad smile.

"Tell me about your adoptive parents," Buck prompted, hoping to offer a chance to shift focus.

Halona's expression softened. "Considering how things began," she said, shaking her head, "I couldn't have asked for better parents. The Harrington's were older, they tried for years to have a child of their own, but it never happened. So, they adopted me." Her voice filled with warmth as she continued, "My dad was a doctor, my mom stayed at home and raised me. She never missed a school performance, a recital, anything. She was… amazing."

"I'm sorry they aren't here for you now." Buck squeezed her hand, his touch warm against her chilled skin. "They sound like they were a wonderful part of your life."

"They were the best." She nodded in agreement. "What about your folks?"

Her question hung heavy in the air. She watched the light flicker in his eyes, a flicker that turned into a grimace. "Never knew my father," he finally said, his voice low. "He was a soldier who forced himself on my mother."

"I'm sorry." Halona rested her hand on his arm in comfort.

She saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, a flicker of suppressed anger. "My brother found her... near the edge of the camp. Broken neck. They said she fell from the cliffs."

"But you don't believe him?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I saw the sadness in her eyes every day," he confessed, his voice cracking. "Every day, I reminded her of him. I think... I think she jumped."

Silence settled between them, heavy with grief. He felt a tear roll down his cheek, hot against his cool skin. He didn't wipe it away. Halona didn't either. Then, slowly, she reached out and wrapped her arms around him. She held him tightly, stroking his back in a slow rhythmic motion.

"Didn't mean to dampen the Christmas spirit," he mumbled as he rose from the couch.

"You didn't," she reassured him. Walking with him down the hall, she felt a pang of longing. "Goodnight, Buck."

"Goodnight, Halona," he murmured.

Her hand rested on the open door. Turning back to him, she spoke softly, "Buck," a single word loaded with unspoken emotions. "I had a really nice Christmas."

"Me too," he replied, the warmth evident in his voice. With a final lingering look, he turned and retreated to his room.

Chapter 32

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

The melody drifted out the open front door, a simple melody that drew Buck to a halt on the porch. Isaac and Megan's laughter, punctuating the gentle swing of their playset in the front yard, only added to the scene's idyllic charm. Peering inside, Buck saw Halona bathed in the warm glow of the late afternoon sun, her fingers dancing across the piano keys. Her voice, both sweet and melancholic, filled the air with a song he didn't recognize.

Her voice, laced with a quiet yearning, sent a shiver down Buck's spine. He inched closer, captivated by the melody and the raw emotion in her singing.

A clumsy misstep sent him careening into the door frame with a dull thud. Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he straightened up and walked inside, hanging his hat apologetically on the hook by the door.

Halona's head snapped up from the piano, a smile replacing the contemplative look on her face. "Buck!"

"That was a sad song," he said, settling onto the piano bench beside her. "Did you write it?"

A peal of laughter escaped Halona's lips. Recognizing the confused look in his eyes, she realized with amusement that yesterday, this iconic Beatles song, so familiar to her, was completely unknown to him. "No," she chuckled, shaking her head.

"Are you ready for this?" Buck rested a hand on the half-filled box of dishes.

"Are you sure you really want to move?" She asked.

"We ain't safe here." Buck grabbed her hand and squeezed it softly.

"No, I'm not safe here." She corrected him. "You've made your life here, you have a beautiful ranch."

"And I love you." He kissed her softly. "We'll go somewhere we can all be safe. Besides there's something I haven't told you."

"What's that?"

"I bought some land."

"You did?" She turned and faced him fully.

"Mhmm, we can build a new ranch for a good price. We'll get that indoor plumbin' you keep talking about."

"Really?" She covered her mouth with her hands.

"And it's right next to the ocean."

"Are you shitting me?" Her jaw dropped.

"No, I'm not 'shitting' you." He mimicked her.

"Sorry, I know." She shrugged. "I'm working on the language."

"Just in front of the little ones," he murmured, a playful glint in his eyes. His fingers trailed down her cheek, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a husky whisper, "I adore your filthy mouth."

A surprised laugh, almost a snort, escaped Halona's lips. "Buck!" she exclaimed.

With a grin, he leaned in and grazed her lips with a teasing kiss. "There's this place," he began, then fumbled in his pocket for a moment. "Let me see here..." He unfolded a crumpled piece of paper. "San Juan Capistrano."

"Really? It's so beautiful there!" She hugged him tightly and giggled internally at his mispronunciation. "I can't believe this!"

"What's going on, Papa?" Isaac asked, bouncing on the balls of his feet standing at the door with his sister in tow.

Buck straightened, a wide smile gracing his features. "Well, kiddos," he announced, "get ready for an adventure! We're officially moving to California!"

Chapter 33

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

In the quiet companionship of their living room, Buck and Halona sat nestled on opposite ends of the couch, each engrossed in their own book. Her bare feet peeked out from beneath the blanket, brushing against his calf occasionally. A comfortable silence stretched between them, punctuated only by the soft rustle of turning pages. Halona stretched languidly, her toe inadvertently bumping Buck's elbow.

"Sorry!" she chuckled, a warm sound that filled the room.

This time, Buck finally glanced up, a playful glint in his eyes. Before she could react, he snatched her foot, his other hand quickly descending to tickle the sensitive pad. A surprised yelp escaped her lips, followed by a burst of helpless giggles.

"Buck!" She squirmed, laughter bubbling up from her chest. "Stop it! You'll wake the kids."

With a final, teasing scrape, Buck released her foot. "Alright," he chuckled, the warmth in his voice mirroring hers.

Halona, regaining her composure, reached down and tugged her foot back, a playful pout forming on her lips.

He leaned forward, capturing her gaze. "I love you," he said simply, the playful grin replaced by a gentle sincerity.

"I love you too," she responded softly.

Buck's hand reached out, gently pushing back a strand of hair that had fallen across her cheek.

Halona met his gaze, her heart skipping a beat. "For a long time now," she confessed, her voice barely a whisper.

He drew her closer, his arms wrapping securely around her. The kiss that followed was no longer playful, but a slow, deliberate exploration, filled with a tenderness that sent shivers down her spine. His touch was light, his lips trailing a path of fire across her jawline, down her neck, sending a jolt of electricity through her.

"I want to make love to you," he murmured against her skin, his voice husky with desire. "Not like before. This time… let me love you.

Buck's hand closed around hers, a silent invitation she met with a hesitant nod. A knot of nervous excitement fluttered in her stomach as she followed him to his room. Her heart was racing, as the door clicked shut behind them. Taking a deep breath, Halona squeezed her eyes shut when she felt Buck's presence at her back. His lips grazed the sensitive skin of her neck, igniting a spark that threatened to consume her.

His touch was different this time – a slow exploration, more deliberate, laced with a possessiveness. They had been here before, crossed this threshold in the heat of passion. But tonight felt different.

Her dress fell to the floor in a pool around her feet. Buck, strong and sure, turned her around with gentle hands and lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him, feeling his solid strength and the warmth of his body seeping through her skin. He carried her to the bed, placing her down tenderly.

Halona's eyes watched intently as he unbuckled his belt, the metal clinking softly as he pulled it free. In suspended motion, he removed his shirt, revealing his lean and muscled torso. Her hands reached out to touch him, tracing the contours of his chest and stomach. Removing his remaining clothes in a heated rush he joined her on the bed.

With a slow, tantalizing movement, Buck leaned in to press his lips against her shoulder. His tongue traced a gentle line up her neck, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The heat radiating from her body consumed him, as she snaked her hand between them, her featherlight touch on his pulsing erection sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't hold back any longer.

His hand parted her thighs and found her wet core, but he resisted the urge to plunge into her immediately. Instead, he wanted to savor every moment with her. He wanted to slowly explore and enjoy every part of her. His lips kissed down her chest, pausing to tease and suckle at her hardened nipple. Her soft panting breaths filled the air as his fingers caressed her most sensitive areas, bringing her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy.

With her heart racing, she reached for him, pulling his face towards hers, their lips meeting with fervor. Buck's hand continue stroking her softly, his thumb gently pressing against her most sensitive spot, sending her over the edge. She cried out, arching her back as waves of pleasure washed over her, her body trembling with the intensity of her release.

Buck watched with a mixture of awe and satisfaction, his gaze never leaving her face as she came undone in his arms. He kissed her feverishly, absorbing the sounds of her cries and the sight of her body responding to his touch.

As Halona caught her breath after reaching climax, Buck positioned himself between her legs and slid inside her. She clutched the sheets tightly as he moved within her, each thrust sending waves of overwhelming sensations through her body. She could feel herself getting dangerously close to yet another peak of pleasure. Gripping onto Buck's hips, she dug her nails into his skin and urged him to continue.

Buck, his eyes locked on Halona's, increased his pace, both of them breathing heavily, their bodies now completely synchronized in their desire. Her hands caressed his back, her fingers lightly tracing the curved lines of his muscles as he thrust faster and harder within her. With each rhythmic pound, Halona's heart threatened to explode from her chest, her body vibrating with pleasure. Her moans grew louder, echoing throughout the room. She felt her climax cresting once more, her body screaming for release.

"Oh, Buck," she gasped, her voice wavering just a little.

Buck took her plea as a challenge, his movements becoming more erratic, his thrusts more intense. Halona's nails sunk deeper into his skin, her grip becoming more urgent. She could feel him swelling within her, his thrusts becoming more intense.

With a final, keening cry, her body wracked with pleasurable spasms as she surrendered to the all-consuming bliss. Buck, his own desire now out of control, gave himself over to the intense sensation of her body writhing beneath him. With a final, powerful thrust, Buck succumbed to the pleasure, his release spilling deep within her.

Their moans melded together, filling the room with raw, unbridled passion. Time seemed to stand still as they rode the waves of ecstasy, as they clung to each other. Buck tore himself away, his breaths ragged. As their eyes met, Halona's face shone with a mix of satisfied pleasure and love. A knowing smile played on her lips. They'd shared something profound tonight, something that would forever bind them. They lay entangled, hearts still pounding in unison, a comfortable silence settling around them.

Chapter 34

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

Sunlight, warm and golden from the afternoon, filtered through Buck's bedroom window. Halona knelt beside a worn wooden trunk at the foot of the bed, her hands working with gentle care as she wrapped Buck's keepsakes. In the back of his closet, hidden amongst forgotten clothes, she discovered a curious object: a pipe unlike any she'd ever seen. Delicately carved wood gleamed in the sunlight, adorned with a band of red leather and a string of feathers that danced around the base.

"Is this a family heirloom?" Halona asked, her voice hushed as Buck entered the room.

A smile softened his features. "It's a calumet," he explained, gently taking the pipe from her hands and turning it over. "It goes like this."

Intrigued, Halona traced the smooth curves of the wood with her fingertips. "It's beautiful," she murmured. "Is it, like, a peace pipe?"

"It's used during sacred ceremonies, it's filled with tobacco for everyone to share in a prayer."

Her curiosity piqued, Halona tilted her head. "What kind of ceremonies?

"Vision quests," Buck replied, a shadow of nostalgia crossing his face. "Or the Sun Dance."

"Tell me about it," Halona urged, her voice filled with a genuine interest that surprised even her. "I never knew much about my Native heritage."

Buck hesitated, searching for a way to explain the complex ceremony. "It's..." he began, then trailed off. "It involves a lot of preparation. Building a sacred space, a buffalo hunt, days of prayer and celebration… It culminates in the Sun Dance itself, where participants test their endurance for many days and nights without food or water. It's a deeply personal and spiritual experience. Words can't truly capture the essence of it."

Despite his struggle to fully articulate the ceremony's significance, Halona found herself captivated. A yearning she couldn't quite explain stirred within her. Maybe, just maybe, learning about Buck's heritage could offer a bridge to understanding her own.

Halona's gaze held Buck's, a silent question hanging in the air. "Did you do it?" She asked softly. "The Sun Dance?"

Buck's brow furrowed in thought as he met her eyes. "A long time ago," he finally conceded.

A knock on the door shattered the contemplative mood. "Papa!" Isaac's voice announced as he barged in, a triumphant glint in his eyes. "I finished packing my trunk with all the stuff I wanna take!"

Buck offered a smile. "That's great. Did you pack everything?"

"Yep!" Isaac puffed out his chest proudly.

"Just making sure," Buck chuckled. "We can't come back for anything we forget, remember?"

Halona rose, carefully navigating the maze of Buck's trinkets scattered across the floor. "Let me help you pack a bit, Isaac," she said. "Did you remember your favorite book? I can't guarantee I'll remember every word to tell you stories at night."

A grin split Isaac's face. "I know it by heart anyway, Hallie! But I packed it just in case."

Halona chuckled, ruffling his hair before joining him in his room.

Isaac's packing technique was, to put it mildly, enthusiastic. The trunk bulged at the seams, overflowing with everything he could possibly cram inside. Even his beloved blanket had been wedged in precariously.

Megan's room presented a different challenge. Tears welled up in her eyes as she agonized over which toys to leave behind. Halona knelt beside her, offering a gentle hug. "Sweetheart," she soothed, "we can't take everything with us. But the toys you leave behind will find new homes with children who will love them just as much as you do. They'll get to have new adventures, just like we are."

With a heavy heart but a newfound outlook, Megan finally made her selections. Halona helped her pack the chosen toys, a bittersweet smile gracing her lips. As they finished, Halona poked her head back into Buck's room.

Chapter 35

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

"I'm gonna take Issac and Megs for a splash in the creek," Halona announced, stepping into the doorway. Her voice held a hint of excitement, a welcome break from their exhausting days of packing.

Buck glanced up from the worn map spread across the table. A flicker of concern crossed his face. "Just down by the house, alright?" He cautioned, his gaze lingering on hers.

"Don't worry," she reassured him, the amusement evident in her eyes. She walked over to where he stood and kissed his cheek softly. "We'll be right next to the west pasture, I promise."

Isaac and Megan, their laughter echoing in the clear air, raced ahead of her down the pasture. Here, beneath the now familiar expanse of the sky, a bittersweet emotion tugged at Halona's heart. This place, harsh and unforgiving at times, had also been a refuge.

It was the place she called home, a place where she'd finally begun to feel a sense of belonging. California, with its promise of sun-drenched beaches and endless possibilities, wasn't a return, not truly. It wouldn't be the California she knew.

A smile touched her lips as she watched the children splash in the cool waters of the creek. How different their world would be once they reached the ocean. She already envisioned herself teaching them to swim, their laughter mingling with the sound of crashing waves.

Suddenly, a deep voice shattered the idyllic scene. The unmistakable click and cock of a gun jolted Halona from her daydream. Terror gripped her as she turned to see a man aiming his weapon directly at her.

"Please," she pleaded, pushing past the lump of terror in her throat. "Don't hurt them."

A cruel laugh ripped from the man's lips. "Ain't interested in them half-breed brats."

Stepping cautiously forward, she addressed the children, her voice firm, "Go home." Her gaze remained fixed on the strange man, unwavering. "Now!"

The man's response was a lightning-fast lunge. His hand clamped around her neck, a brutal vise that stole the air from her lungs. "They ain't gonna be back in time to save you." The gun dug into her side, sending a jolt of pain spiking through her. Her vision swam as a strangled cry ripped from her throat.

Fury contorted the man's features, his eyes blazing with a hatred that threatened to consume him. "You killed my wife!" His voice was hoarse with grief and rage as he accused her.

Halona recoiled, her heart racing with fear. "Sir, please," she begged, feeling small and helpless under his intense gaze. "I don't know your wife."

Halona's heart raced as she backed away from him, pleading for mercy. But his pain had twisted into something primal and merciless. He lunged forward, grabbing her wrists with vice-like grip.

"Lies won't save you now, witch!" He snarled, producing a rope from his pocket with a vicious yank. He bound her wrists with such force that it left her gasping for air.

Desperate to escape, Halona thrashed against him but he was an unbreakable force. The muddy ground offered no relief as she clawed at it in a futile attempt to free herself.

"You think you can get away with this?" He snarled, pulling out a wickedly sharp knife. "There are only two ways to deal with a witch like you - fire or water."

He shoved her to her knees, the impact sending a searing pain through her leg. Before she could react, he plunged her face-first into the shallow creek. The cool water stole her breath, filling her with terror and confusion. Though it was barely a foot deep, the jagged stones scraped like razors against her skin.

With a surge of adrenaline, Halona managed to push herself up and knock him off balance. Gasping for air, she scrambled to her feet, mud-caked dress weighing her down. A brutal hand yanked her back down, slamming her face into the muddy river bed. The metallic tang of blood filled her mouth as stars exploded in her vision.

"Please," she choked out, desperation and fear choking her words as she struggled against him.

He only laughed, a cruel sound as he shoved her head underwater once more. Panic and pain surged through her body, the lack of oxygen burning behind her eyes. Was it the blow to her head, or the suffocating terror that caused the world to fade into darkness?

In that moment, Halona knew the true meaning of terror - to be at the mercy of a vengeful man consumed by rage and blinded by grief.

Chapter 36

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

Isaac and Megan's screams tore through the peaceful afternoon, sending shivers down Buck's spine. He sprinted towards them, dread pooling in his stomach as he saw them running from the creek with no sign of Halona. A deafening roar reached his ears, a primal cry of pure rage carried on the wind, confirming his worst fears.

As he rounded the bend in the path, two figures came into view. His heart stopped at the sight - Halona struggling in the grasp of a hulking figure submerged in the gurgling water. Without hesitation, Buck drew his gun, the world fading away to focus solely on Halona's terrified face and the man's twisted snarl - a frozen moment of violence.

The gunshot echoed through the valley, a sharp punctuation mark in the serene landscape. The man crumpled to the ground, releasing Halona from his grip. Relief surged through Buck as he rushed to her side, but it was short-lived as a new wave of terror washed over him.

Halona lay motionless on the muddy bank, her skin pale against the vibrant hues of nature. Buck pulled her closer, frantically searching for any sign of life. But there was only silence and panic clawed at his throat as he pounded on her back.

Then, like a miracle, she coughed and sputtered, gasping for air as water spilled from her lips. Buck's heart soared with overwhelming relief as she opened her eyes – first confusion, then recognition dawning in their depths. He held her tightly, soaking wet and covered in mud but feeling more alive than ever before – knowing that she was safe and breathing in his arms.

Chapter 37

Shadow Valley – Texas 1871

Buck's calloused hands were remarkably gentle as he tended to Halona, carefully cleaning the superficial cuts that marred her delicate features with a damp cloth. Those were mere scratches, easily brushed off and forgotten. It was the jagged gash along her hairline that demanded his full attention now.

He gingerly untangled her ebony locks from the sticky mess of drying blood, his brow creasing with concern as he examined the wound. "This one's gonna need stitching up," he murmured, the deep timbre of his voice laced with worry.

Halona winced, a sharp hiss escaping through clenched teeth as his fingers probed the tender area. "I think I need to see a doctor," she insisted, her words coming out breathless and reedy.

"Going into town ain't an option right now, darlin'," Buck reminded her softly. He clasped her hand between his work-roughened palms, anchoring her with his steady presence. "But we can take care of this here. It's not as bad as it looks."

"What do you mean take care of it here?" Halona echoed, disbelief and a hint of fear coloring her tone as she pulled back slightly to search his face. "What do you mean?"

Undeterred, Buck simply squeezed her hand reassuringly before sinking down to kneel beside her. "It's just a few stitches is all, Hallie. I'm gonna need you to try and relax for me."

"Are you kidding me?" She protested weakly, her eyes growing wide with panic as the reality sank in. "You're not a doctor!"

Buck held her gaze steadily with his own. "I've had to do this before, more'n a couple times even - stitched myself up on the trail when there weren't no other choice." His deep voice was soothing.

As if on cue, Isaac suddenly materialized beside them, his small hand finding Halona's in a show of silent support. "Pa stitched me up once too," the boy piped up helpfully. "It ain't so bad, really."

Buck cast an appreciative look towards his son. "You see? Now Isaac, why don't you run fetch me that bottle in the kitchen cupboard? The one with the brown liquid."

The boy's eyes lit up with understanding and he bobbed his head before turning to scamper off towards the kitchen area. He returned moments later, a dusty glass bottle clutched triumphantly in his grip.

"Perfect," Buck praised, taking the half-empty bottle of whiskey and uncorking it with a pop. He wet a clean strip of cloth with the pungent amber liquid. "This is gonna sting some, but it'll help clean that cut right up."

Before Halona could raise another protest, he pressed the alcohol-soaked fabric firmly against the ragged gash above her brow. Halona cried out, a piercing wail that echoed hollowly off the log walls as white-hot pain lanced through her. Chest heaving, she clung desperately to the bottle of whiskey, taking a long, gasping swig in a feeble attempt to dull the searing throb.

Buck methodically threaded an oversized needle, the sight of it enough to make Halona's head spin dizzily. Surely that monstrous thing couldn't possibly be intended for her? She swallowed hard against a rising wave of nausea.

"You ready, now?" Buck asked gruffly, jaw set in grim determination as he gripped the improvised surgical thread.

Halona took another fortifying gulp of the harsh whiskey, its slow burn a welcome distraction from the pain. She managed a jerky nod, unable to give voice around the lump of dread in her throat.

But as soon as Buck leaned in, needle leading the way, her eyes rolled back in her head and she slumped against the rickety table in a dead faint.

Relief, tinged with a flicker of dark amusement, flickered across Buck's features. "City folk..." he muttered under his breath and grinned at Isaac who laughed along with him. Seeing Halona's wide eyes flutter shut was honestly a blessing in disguise - stitching her up while she was unconscious would be far easier on them both.

"Don't you worry now, pumpkin," he soothed Megan, who had begun to sniffle at Halona's sudden collapse. "Hallie's just restin' is all." He stroked the girl's head softly.

And with that, Buck set about his grisly work with grim efficiency. By the time he finished, Halona's wounds were neatly stitched and bandaged. As he stood back to survey his handiwork, Buck felt a renewed sense of resolve settle in the pit of his stomach. This latest incident only solidified what he'd suspected for a while now - staying put in Shadow Valley would only lead to more violence, more bloodshed. Their departure may have been delayed, but leaving was the only way to ensure his family's safety in the long run.

Chapter 38

San Juan Capistrano – California 1871

They had only been in California for a few weeks. The land had a small weathered two-room cabin nestled in the flats near the rolling hills. Buck kept the foreman who had worked on the farm for the previous owner. He had planned to start a horse ranch here, but now seeing the land and the crops just beginning to ripen he was eager to learn the new way of life.

The sale of his ranch left him with enough wealth to purchase the land in California as well as build their new house and sustain them a minimum of two years, in the worst-case scenario, the farm lost money. Buck had left early in the morning to meet with a carpenter and survey the land where he planned to build their home.

The wooden floorboards creaked softly beneath her steps as Halona walked across the large room in the cabin. It was cramped quarters but they were safe, and happy. She chuckled to herself, the entire cabin would have fit in her walk-in closet. She and Buck claimed the one bedroom, and both children slept in the corner near the fireplace. Buck had shown them how he used to sleep on the prairie when he rode for the Pony Express and made them both bedrolls which even though they had been sleeping in the bed of a wagon for a month and a half, they seemed to accept their temporary lodgings.

She walked over to the porch and leaned against the railing and seeing Rosa, the foreman's wife walking down the dirt pathway she raised her hand in welcome.

"Buenas tardes, Rosa," Halona greeted her.

"Buenas tardes. Senora Cross."

"Por favor llámame Halona." She smiled and held out her hand welcoming her to have a seat. Just about every day Rosa walked the almost mile to the stables to meet her husband at the end of the day.

Rosa unleashed a torrent of Spanish, the words tumbling out so rapidly that Halona could only grasp a few scattered phrases.

"Wait, that's too fast." Halona smiled. "Reducer la velocidad."

"¿Cuánto tiempo hace que usted y el Sr. Cross están casados?" Rosa spoke slowly as she sat on the bench next to Halona.

"¿Casada?" Halona tried her best to place the word. She was already grateful she took as much Spanish in school as she did. Though she was rusty, it was coming back quickly.

"Casada." Rosa tapped the wedding ring on her finger.

"Oh," Halona understood. "Cuatro meses. ¿Y tú?"

"Un año."

Though their conversation was limited by Halona's knowledge of Spanish the two women seemed unhindered. A few minutes later Halona saw the dust trail rising and cresting the ridge were Isaac and Megan.

"How was school, you two?" Halona asked as both children ran up to the porch.

"Mama!" Megan burst out before Isaac could get a word in. "Isaac has a girlfriend!"

Halona's brows rose in amusement. "Oh really? Do tell."

Isaac, cheeks flushed a fiery red, shoved his sister. "I do not!"

Halona knelt before him, her gaze firm yet gentle. "Don't push your sister, Isaac. Now, who is this young lady?"

A defeated sigh escaped his lips. "Pilar Sanchez. She follows me around everywhere."

"Well, well," Halona chuckled, a knowing look in her eyes. "It seems you're quite the charmer, young man. A burden you'll simply have to bear, I'm afraid."

Halona straightened, her gaze shifting to Megan. "And you, young lady, no more teasing your brother."

A sheepish grin replaced Megan's mischievous glint. "Yes, mama."

"There's lunch inside," Halona announced, opening the door and ushering the children into the small cabin.

A sudden movement in the orchard caught Halona's eye. Buck! A wave of relief washed over her – he was a welcome sight after a day of cleaning the house. With a swish of her skirt, she hurried down the porch steps, her laughter echoing in the air as she greeted Miguel on her way to meet her husband.

Chapter 39

San Juan Capistrano – California 1871

Halona rushed into his embrace, the warmth of his calloused hand a familiar comfort. "Hey my love," she murmured, burying her face in his shirt.

"Kids home?" Buck brushed a kiss to her temple, the scent of sunbaked earth and sweat clinging to him.

"Mhmm," she mumbled against his chest. "What did they say about the house?"

"We'll be finished by Christmas time." Buck pulled her closer in a small squeeze.

"Seems so far off." She sighed. "Will you take me out there tonight?"

"How about right now?" He patted his horse's saddle.

"The kids just got home, they are eating." She pouted and leaned into his embrace.

"Kids, Hallie and I are gonna take a ride for a little bit. Isacc's in charge," He poked his head in the cabin. "and Isaac," Buck looked at him seriously. "Be kind to your sister."

"Yes sir," Isaac nodded.

"Buck, we can't just leave them here." Halona shook her head in disbelief.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Well, Isaac is just nine years old." She tried to reason.

"He's perfectly capable of watching his sister for an hour." Buck laughed and helped her onto the saddle.

"I mean I don't think he's going to burn the place to the ground." Halona settled onto the horse and looked at him, still in disbelief. "But he's nine."

Buck chuckled softly, steering his horse towards the coast. The sun warmed his skin as a cool ocean breeze gusted across the hillside, carrying the tang of salt. He'd spent days scouting the perfect spot for their house, and his heart quickened at the thought of Halona's reaction.

As they reached the crest of the cliffs, Buck dismounted and helped Halona down. Taking her hand, he led her along the edge, where the land fell away dramatically to the churning sea below.

"So," he began, gesturing with his free hand, "We thought the house could sit right about here."

He paused, allowing Halona to take in the breathtaking view. Then, voice tinged with excitement, he started describing the layout they'd planned, painting a picture of their future home with his words.

Reaching the porch steps, Buck stopped and fumbled in his pocket. He produced a closed hand and held it out to Halona. "Oh, by the way," he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Found something interesting while I was cleaning out some boxes."

"What is it?" Halona took his hand, her curiosity piqued.

He opened his hand, revealing a small, silver pocket watch. Time stood still as Halona's breath caught in her throat. The watch, nestled comfortably in his palm, was like a glimmer from a forgotten life. She hadn't seen it in years, yet it lay there, as exquisitely beautiful as she remembered.

A wave of emotions washed over her – surprise, a pang of nostalgia, and a deep sense of gratitude for the life she'd built. Little things here and there – a melody, a scent, a familiar object – would occasionally spark memories of her past, but they no longer held the power to pull her back. Here, in this sun-drenched valley, surrounded by family and a life she'd carved with her own hands, she was content.

"It wasn't working," Buck said, his voice gentle as he took the watch from her. He popped open the back and fiddled with a tiny key. "But I took it to the jeweler in town. He fixed it right up."

The click of the key winding the watch echoed in the quiet evening. The silver watch, cool against her palm, became a portal. As Buck placed it in her hand, a torrent of memories surged through Halona's mind, vivid and undeniable.

The world around her dissolved, replaced by the dusty shelves of the antique store in Texas.

"Carries history. Marks the start of a new journey, in a way." The older man's deep voice broke through her reality.

Halona felt a strange pull as she took the cool metal into her hands. A pleasant chill shot up her arm as she examined the watch's details, her fingers tracing the ornate pattern.

"There's a key to wind it up right here," Joshua explained, demonstrating the tiny key that fits into the watch's top.

"What are you going to do with a pocket watch?" Sydney teased.

"I don't know," Halona admitted, tracing the delicate filigree on the watch's face.

"All original parts," Joshua added, a hint of pride in his voice.

Sydney rolled her eyes. "You literally just bought a brand new Apple watch last month."

"But a watch like this," Joshua interjected, his voice gaining a philosophical edge. "It carries history, and marks a new journey. It's a tangible piece of the past."

"I'll take it," she announced.

Sydney shook her head, a playful smile on her lips. "You're such a sucker for a good story."

The world blurred and wavered sickeningly around Halona, the hazy antique store morphing into a nightmarish hellscape. She could no longer breathe, no longer think - there was only the frantic, raggedness pounding between her ears to escape, to flee this waking terror.

A raw, primal scream of sheer terror ripped from her throat. The watch clattered from her violently trembling hands to the dusty ground below.

"Buck!" She cried out his name, her arms shooting out blindly to anchor herself against the waves of panic crashing over her. A thousand tiny needles seemed to prick mercilessly at her skull, escalating in intensity with each ragged breath. Halona's whole body was seized by uncontrollable tremors, a strangled whimper escaping her lips.

"Halona!" Buck called out her name, alarmed by her abrupt shift in demeanor.

He lunged forward instinctively, one hand outstretched to latch onto hers, but before his palm could make contact before he could even suck in another breath, Halona had simply...vanished.

Kiowa Translation

H ā́-deidl ám – Who are you

Hā́-tsou áim kauhn– How are you called

'Eim- 'Ȟ – Come here

Toubéi – Be quiet

Sáé Gúldáu – Red Bear

Hā́chò – How are you

P'ah-be – Brother

Ee taun - Nephew

Ee tah – Neice

Ahdle koiye daw – That person is crazy

Spanish Translation

Buenos tardes. – Good afternoon

Por favor llámame (Halona) – Please, call me (Halona)

¿Cuánto tiempo hace que usted y el Sr. Cross están casados?

How long have you and Mr. Cross been married?

Casada – married

Cuatro meses – Four months

Y tú – and you

Un año – One year

THANK YOU for reading!

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Afterword

Buck Cross and other characters from the TV show The Young Riders belong to the copyright holders of The Young Riders. (1989-1992)

No infringements of copyright by any rights-holder to The Young Riders is intended or implied.

The author receives NO monetary benefit from the electronic or physical distribution of this work.

ALL original characters created by the author, as well as plot and book art, are copyrighted by the author.

Please do not distribute these works without permission from the author.

About the Author

Holly, a 2nd generation California Native, relocated to the Midwest after the 2018 Camp Fire devastated her hometown. She brought along with her unwavering love of her home state, her loyal companion Cass, better known as Cass the Stinky Chicken.

In the 90's she became a devoted fan of 'The Young Riders' series. Inspired by the characters and the time period, she crafts tales set in the Wild West, often featuring the beloved character, Buck Cross.

In addition to her historical interests, Holly is a recognized fashion designer and custom doll artist under the brand D.A. Fashion.

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