LOST & FOUND
Here, There & Everywhere
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
San Juan Capistrano, California - 1871
From the kitchen table, Isaac and Megan watched the world outside through a veil of dust-laden sunlight. Their laughter was a bright contrast to the serene afternoon, punctuated by the cheerful chirping of birds.
A piercing scream shattered the peaceful atmosphere. Their stepmother's voice, loud and frantic, called for their father. Isaac felt his heart skip a beat. He looked at Megan, seeing his fear mirrored in her wide eyes.
"What was that?" Megan whispered, her small hands gripping the edge of the table.
Before Isaac could respond, the thunder of footsteps outside drew their attention. They scrambled to their feet as they rushed to follow. The screen door slammed behind them as they burst onto the porch. The air was thick with tension, farmhands hurrying past with worried expressions. But their father was nowhere in sight.
"Where's Papa?" Megan asked, tugging on Isaac's sleeve.
Isaac squinted against the bright sunlight, spotting a few workers heading toward the distant fields. "This way," he said, grabbing Megan's hand. "Come on!"
They took off running, the tall grass whipping against their legs. The sun beat down, sweat beading on their foreheads. Isaac's lungs burned, but he pushed on, Megan's small hand clasped tightly in his own.
As they neared the apple orchard, they could make out a small gathering of people beneath an old oak tree. Their pace slowed as they approached, uncertainty creeping in.
There, kneeling on the grass, was their father. His broad shoulders shook with silent sobs.
"Papa?" Megan's voice was barely above a whisper. She reached out tentatively, placing a small hand on his back.
Buck looked up, his face a mask of grief. Without a word, he pulled Megan into a fierce hug. Isaac stepped closer, and his father's arm shot out, drawing him into the embrace as well.
The children clung to their father. They could feel the tremors running through his body as he wept. Around them, the farmhands shifted uncomfortably, murmuring in low voices.
"What happened?" Isaac asked, his voice muffled against his father's shoulder.
Buck took a shuddering breath. "Hallie" he began, his voice rough with emotion. "She's... she's gone."
Chapter 2
San Juan Capistrano, California - 2022
The shrill wail of sirens pierced through the fog clouding Halona's mind. It was the first jarring clue that something was seriously wrong. A jumble of panicked voices crashed over her next, each urgent cry yanking her further from the blissful darkness.
"...worker found her right over here," a worried man's voice cut through the commotion. The crunch of gravel told her people were closing in fast.
"We called 9-1-1 straight away," a woman added, her tone tight with fear.
Beeps and whirrs of medical equipment needled through Halona's mental fog. Bright lights flickered at the edges of her blurred vision, cold and harsh even through squeezed-shut eyelids.
"She live around here?" A new, authoritative voice barked - a cop, Halona realized slowly.
"No, no, we've never seen her before," the man replied.
"I-I just got home from the grocery store like, half an hour ago tops." The woman explained in a breathless rush.
More crunching gravel as the officer took notes. "Need both your names for the report."
"Michael Cross. This is my wife, Jenna."
"Copy that," the cop responded flatly. "We'll be circling back shortly."
An uneasy silence fell, broken only by Jenna's shaky breathing nearby. Summoning every ounce of effort, Halona forced her eyes open, squinting against the floodlights' glare.
She was on a stretcher, surrounded by chaos. Navy-clad EMS workers swarmed at the fringes, their faces a blur of nervous glances her way. Voices sounded underwater.
Nothing about the scene seemed familiar. Halona's brow furrowed as her confused gaze swept across the unfamiliar yard and vehicles. Where was she? And why couldn't she remember how she'd ended up here?
"Ma'am? Can you hear me?" A paramedic leaned into view, concern etched on his face.
Halona tried to speak, but her throat felt raw. She managed a weak nod instead.
"Good, that's good," he said soothingly. "We're going to take care of you, okay? Just try to stay calm."
As they loaded her into the ambulance, Halona's mind raced. Fragments of memories flashed by - her children's laughter, the smell of the warm spray of the ocean mixed with apple blossoms, Buck's warm smile. But how had she gotten from there to here?
The ambulance doors slammed shut, jarring her once again back to reality, as they sped off into the night. Halona closed her eyes, fighting rising panic. Something was very wrong, and she had no idea how to make it right.
Chapter 3
USC Medical Center Los Angeles, CA - 2022
Weeks had crawled by since Sydney saw the news report. The blurry images flashed across her mind again - Halona unconscious on a stretcher, the shocking headline. Sydney's heart had raced as she booked the first flight to LA.
Now, she shifted uncomfortably in the hospital chair that had become her second home. The thin blanket did little to ward off the chill. Sydney grimaced, her back protesting as she tried to find a better position.
The door opened, and Damian strode in, eyebrows raised. "Brought sustenance," he said wryly, dropping a paper bag on the tray.
Sydney's stomach growled at the smell. "You're a lifesaver," she said gratefully, tearing into the bag. "The slop they serve here is nasty."
As Sydney took her first bites of real food in days, a flicker of movement caught her eye. Her heart leapt into her throat as she saw Halona's eyelids flutter open.
"...Syd?" The word was barely a whisper, but it spurred Sydney into action.
She was at Halona's side in an instant, food forgotten. "Oh thank God!" Sydney gripped Halona's hand tightly, relief washing over her. "You're in the hospital, Halo," she explained gently, smoothing back her friend's tangled hair. "But you're safe now. Everything's going to be okay."
Halona's eyes darted around the room, confusion and fear evident in her gaze. She squeezed them shut, as if trying to block out the unfamiliar surroundings.
"What... what happened?" Halona's voice was rough from disuse. "Where's Buck? The kids?"
Sydney hesitated, unsure how to respond. Before she could formulate an answer, a flurry of medical staff entered the room.
"Ms. Blackwater, glad to see you're awake," a doctor said briskly. "We have some tests we need to run now that you're conscious."
As the medical team bustled around her, Halona lay still, overwhelmed. The beeping of machines, the sharp smell of antiseptic, the strange faces peering down at her - it was all too much.
She closed her eyes again, trying to remember. But there was nothing beyond a vague sense of warmth and safety, now replaced by cold dread. Where were her children? Her husband? Why couldn't she remember?
"Syd," Halona whispered, reaching out blindly. "Don't leave me."
Sydney squeezed her hand reassuringly. "I'm right here," she promised. "I'm not going anywhere."
As the doctors continued their examination, Sydney chatted about the outpouring of support from fans and the media frenzy surrounding her reappearance.
Chapter 4
USC Medical Center Los Angeles, CA - 2022
It had been two days since she'd woken up, confused and terrified. She had been waiting for this, the boogeyman in human form. Two men, clad in dark unassuming suits stood at her bedside. Their faces were impassive, but the badges clipped to their belts spoke volumes. Authority. Government. Trouble.
"Ms. Blackwater?" The taller of the two held up a badge that caught the light, momentarily blinding her. His voice was crisp and professional, devoid of warmth.
Halona felt a tear trace its way down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly, trying to compose herself. "Yes," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I'm Special Agent Dunbar, this is Agent Jacoby. We need to ask you a few questions if you're up to it." Dunbar gestured to the empty chair beside her bed, his movements efficient and practiced.
Halona nodded, the small motion causing her head to throb. "That's fine," she said, though it was anything but.
Agent Jacoby spoke next, his tone gentler than his partner's. There was a flicker of something - concern, perhaps - in his eyes. "Can you tell us about where you've been?"
The question hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Halona's throat tightened as she forced out the words: "I don't know."
The admission sent a chill through her. This feeling of dislocation, of lost time, it was hauntingly familiar. It reminded her of another time, another place - when the Kiowa had found her in Oklahoma, so many years ago...
The memory flashed through her mind, threatening to overwhelm her. Halona closed her eyes, trying to steady her breathing as the past and present blurred together in her mind.
She dismounted on wobbly legs, cold sweat trickling down her spine as she struggled to make sense of the bizarre 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-"
Halona squeezed her eyes shut, willing the past, willing the men in suits, to vanish. When she opened them again, the sterile reality of the hospital room remained.
"You've been missing for three years." Agent Jacoby said, his tone laced with a weary sympathy.
"Yeah, Sydney, told me that." Halona nodded, the enormity of the missing time crashing down on her like a tidal wave. She stared blankly at the empty Jello cup on the bedside table, the world around her tilting on its axis.
The conversation continued, the FBI agents circling her like wary predators. They were looking for a lead, their questions hinting at a dark possibility - abduction. But Halona was lost, adrift in a sea of confusion. They reminded her that she had been filming a movie in Texas when she vanished. A sliver of memory sparked - Texas, the scorching sun, the endless rows of cacti. But then, her mind hit a wall. Time seemed to fold in on itself.
Had she been kidnapped? The thought sent a jolt of terror through her. Drugged? Held captive? Was that all it was? A terrifying mixture of drugs and the resulting hallucinations? But then, a wave of grief washed over her.
She could almost hear their laughter, Isaac and Megan chasing each other through the orchard. Bucks, his hand warm in hers, the taste of his kiss still lingering on her lips. Surely it hadn't all been a figment of her imagination. A sob escaped her lips, a choked sound that shattered the sterile silence of the room. Reality, harsh and unforgiving, stared her back in the face.
"How are we feeling today?" A friendly voice, a welcome interruption, cut through the heavy atmosphere. A kind-faced doctor bustled in, his stethoscope dangling around his neck.
"Better," Halona managed, forcing a weak smile as he checked her vitals and adjusted her IV.
"Excuse me, doctor," Agent Jacoby interjected, his voice pitched low. "Were you able to get the test results back?"
"The toxicology tests came back negative," the doctor replied, his brow furrowed in concentration as he reviewed her chart. "However, we did find some anomalies in other areas." He flipped a page. "Ah yes, here it is. Increased levels of serotonin, very low numbers in sodium which would explain her being found unconscious."
Halona's mind wandered as the FBI agents and the doctor spoke of her condition. It was like she was there but invisible as they discussed her in clinical and forensic terms. A warmth of comfort spread through her when she heard the words "no sign of sexual assault"
They spoke for several minutes longer, and then one of the agents followed the doctor down the hallway.
"Your assistant, Sydney Taylor, said you went out driving the night you went missing." Agent Dunbar handed her the cup of water next to her tray.
"I remember that." She rubbed her head. "But then nothing makes sense. It's like a dream."
"It might not make sense to you, but it may give us clues as to who abducted you, or where you were held."
"Well I woke up, my car was gone."
"Close your eyes." He instructed gently. "Anything that can identify where you are?"
"I don't know," Halona admitted, her voice trembling slightly. "Just these bizarre dreams..."
"Can you describe anything specific? A street sign, a car, anything?" Agent Jacoby leaned forward, his eyes searching hers.
Halona squeezed her eyes shut, desperately trying to grasp at the elusive memories. "No, there weren't any cars. It felt...off. Like I knew it wasn't real, even in the dream." Her voice trailed off, frustration lacing her words.
"What do you mean?" Agent Dunbar prompted gently.
Halona shook her head, the movement small and defeated. "It's hard to explain. Just an uneasy feeling that something wasn't right."
The agents exchanged a brief glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Finally, Agent Dunbar closed his notebook with a decisive snap.
"Thank you for your cooperation, Ms Blackwater. This is an ongoing investigation, so hopefully as you recover, your memories will return. Even the smallest detail could be crucial. Please, if anything comes back to you, no matter how insignificant it seems, don't hesitate to call us."
Halona's heart pounded. "Should I be worried? Do you think I'm still in danger?" The unspoken question hung heavy in the air.
"At this point, it's too early to say," Agent Jacoby admitted. "We don't have any leads yet. We're currently examining the clothes you were found in, searching for any forensic evidence. We'll keep you updated on our findings."
A thin smile stretched across Halona's lips, more out of courtesy than genuine cheer. "Thank you," she managed, the weight of the unknown settling heavily on her shoulders as the agents took their leave.
Chapter 5
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona sank into the couch, soothed by the glittering lights reflecting on the bay. The familiar sight tugged at something deep within her, a remnant of another life. Outside, the vibrant city pulsed with energy, but to Halona, it felt alien and overwhelming.
She pressed her palm against the cool window, seeking connection. "I should feel at home," she murmured, her breath fogging the glass.
The living room, bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, felt like her only sanctuary. An unsettling anxiety gnawed at her insides, making her skin prickle.
Damian's words from earlier echoed in her mind. "Your entire estate was frozen during your disappearance," he had explained, his voice tinged with frustration. "We've managed to unfreeze some assets, including the house, but it's been a bureaucratic nightmare."
Halona's bare feet made soft padding sounds as she moved across the cold marble floor to the kitchen. The chill seeped into her bones, grounding her in the present moment. She rummaged through the grocery delivery, the rustle of paper bags seeming unnaturally loud in the quiet house.
Suddenly, a wave of disorientation washed over her. Halona gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles turning white. "This isn't right," she whispered, her voice shaky. "Nothing feels right."
The memory of Sydney's supportive presence during the house cleaning lingered. Halona had bitten back the selfish urge to beg her friend to stay. "You've got a life in New York," she had said instead, forcing a smile. "I'll be fine."
Halona found herself alone, her hand shaking as she reached for the vodka bottle nestled in the freezer. The initial sip scorched her throat, but the second glided down with ease. A fleeting thought - that this was a terrible idea - flashed through her mind, yet she took another long swallow anyway.
Chapter 6
San Francisco, CA - 2022
The pit in Damian's stomach had been growing for days, turning into something he couldn't ignore. Halona's radio silence was getting to him, and her missed therapy appointment set off all kinds of alarms in his head. He drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his car idling outside her house.
"Sod it," he muttered, killing the engine.
Damian walked up to the quiet house, feeling the chill in the air. He knocked and called out, "Halona? You home?" but got nothing back except his own echo.
The door swung open when he tried it, and he nearly tripped over a wine bottle lying in the hallway. It made a soft clinking sound as it rolled away. Something about the air inside hit him wrong.
"Christ," Damian breathed as he entered the kitchen. The bin overflowed with takeout containers, their contents congealing into unidentifiable masses. Plastic forks littered every surface, outnumbered only by the array of bottles – wine, vodka, and oddly, several Gatorades.
He picked up a neon blue bottle, eyebrows raised. "Well, at least you're staying hydrated," he said to the empty room, tossing it into the recycling with a hollow clang.
"Halona?" The stairs creaked as he climbed. He called out again, softer now. A faint glow spilled from her bedroom door, left slightly ajar.
The smell hit him first as he pushed the door open – alcohol and sweat and something indefinably rotting. The TV flickered, casting eerie shadows across the disaster zone of the room. And there, in the midst of it all, lay Halona.
She was sprawled face-down on the bed, one arm dangling limply over the edge. Her tank top had ridden up, one lone sock clung stubbornly to her foot. Damian's breath caught until he saw the slight rise and fall of her back.
Damian cleared a spot on the bed and sat down next to her. "Halona," he said quietly, his accent making her name sound softer somehow.
She just groaned into the pillow. When she finally turned over, her face was all puffy and streaked with makeup. The look in her eyes hit Damian hard.
"Oh, love," he said under his breath.
Halona's face crumpled and she buried it in the pillow, sobbing. Damian paused, then put a hand on her shoulder.
"Halona, darling, you need to pull yourself together." His voice was kind but firm, cutting through her misery.
She lifted her head a bit, her messy hair sticking to her wet cheeks. "I think I'm losing it," she whispered, her voice shaky. "It felt so real."
Damian reached out and squeezed her hand gently. The warmth of his skin was a stark contrast to how empty she felt inside. "You've been through hell," he said sympathetically. "But drowning yourself in booze isn't the answer. You need - "
"Go away," Halona mumbled into the pillow, barely understandable through her self-pity. "Just...leave me alone."
Damian's jaw tightened, but he kept his voice even. "Not a chance, Halona. We're doing this my way - starting with getting you in the bath. You smell like old takeout."
Before she could argue, Damian had scooped her up. The sudden movement made her head spin, and she squeezed her eyes shut.
"I can walk..." she mumbled weakly.
Damian ignored her and carried her to the bathroom. He turned on the tub with one hand, filling it with a few inches of cool water. Then he set Halona on the edge.
She shivered as the cold porcelain touched her skin. "Never thought you'd be taking my clothes off," Halona slurred, trying for a joke.
"Don't flatter yourself," Damian said with a wry smile. "You're definitely...not my type."
"Rude," she mumbled, closing her eyes against the bright bathroom light.
"Call it tough love," Damian replied. He gathered up her dirty clothes. "I'm going to...burn these. You soak for a bit. I'll get someone to clean this mess. And you're going to therapy this week. No excuses."
For a moment, there was just the sound of water dripping. Halona opened her eyes a crack, looking at him gratefully.
"Damian?" She finally croaked. "Thank you."
Damian's face softened. "Of course, luv," he said gently, giving her forehead a light kiss. "When life hands you lemons and all that, eh?"
A tiny smile tugged at Halona's lips as her eyes closed again. "Get tequila and salt?"
Chapter 7
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona drifted off, enveloped in a cozy fog. The cool water was soothing, and her thoughts wandered to him - his dark hair in a long braid, his warm brown eyes, and his comforting hands on her skin. He was her safe haven. But was he real or just a figment of a drug-induced dream? She couldn't tell if her feelings were genuine or just a side effect of whatever she'd taken.
Either way, it spelled trouble. She was either losing it from whatever happened during those years she was missing or these were actual memories. And if they were memories, that could only mean one thing: she was going off the deep end.
She'd faced this before, and someone had tried to warn her. A shiver ran through her as a sharp memory sliced through the haze of booze and despair clouding her mind.
She turned around, offering a smile to the familiar general store clerk as she finished their conversation. The wooden floorboards creaked as she shifted her weight, a chill running down her spine. Taking a deep breath, she caught the scent of freshly ground coffee mingling with the earthier smells of flour and dried beans. Her eyes locked onto a stranger weaving through the sacks of goods piled throughout the store.
She recalled overhearing Jimmy and Buck's hushed conversation about a bounty hunter who had ridden into town. Jimmy had mentioned keeping an eye on him. Now, as the gunslinger's long strides quickly ate up the space between them, Halona felt her heart begin to race.
"Can I help you, sir?" The clerk's voice carried a hint of wariness as the man reached the counter, a strange look in his eye.
"Yeah," the older man grumbled, his voice rough like sandpaper. He rummaged through his pocket, producing a crumpled-up list. "Everything on here, and a pound of salted pork."
The clerk glanced over the list and nodded, her glasses slipping down her nose. "It'll be a few minutes."
"No hurry, ma'am." The man turned his gaze to Halona, standing a few feet away. His eyes, the color of wheat, seemed to pierce right through her. "Have we met before?"
"Excuse me?" Halona took a step back, her pulse quickening. The floorboards creaked again under her shifting weight.
"There's somethin' 'bout you." He looked her over, his eyes narrowing. The smell of leather and horse sweat clung to him, a stark contrast to the store's homier scents.
"Is that so?" Halona suppressed a smile, nearly choking on a giggle. She'd heard some bad pickup lines in her life, but this one might be the worst. It wasn't just the line but the intrusive way his gaze raked over her.
"Mind tellin' your friend I'll be back in an hour for my supplies." The man pulled out a silver medallion, quickly grabbing her hand and pressing the cold metal into her palm. The sudden contact made her flinch. "I'll be havin' a drink at the saloon if you want to join me."
Halona stood frozen as the strange man tipped his hat and walked out of the store, the bell above the door jingling as he left. She opened her fingers and looked down at the silver medallion, worn and dinged with age. Her mouth gaped open as she saw the enamel flecks in the flag behind the words '9/11 We will never forget!'. She glanced back up, watching the man disappear into the saloon across the dusty street.
Her heart raced as she briskly crossed the road, dodging a passing wagon. He was right; she had felt the pull. As soon as he opened the door to the general store, she felt drawn to him. She hadn't understood it until she saw the familiar keychain she now clenched tightly in her hand.
She pushed past the saloon doors, the heavy thud echoing behind her. The smell of stale beer and tobacco smoke assaulted her nostrils. Her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light as she scanned the room, the low murmur of conversation punctuated by the occasional clink of glasses. Spotting the stranger in the corner, she made her way through the mostly empty tables to where he sat.
"Thought I'd see you again." The man looked up and smiled, sipping his whiskey. The amber liquid caught the light as he leaned back and tipped over the other glass, pouring her a drink. He watched her place the keychain on the table. "So, where were you when the first tower was hit?"
Halona breathed deeply and sat down across from him, the worn leather of the chair creaking beneath her. "I was four."
"I had just enlisted the week prior." He laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Talk about bad luck, right?"
"How did you get here?" She leaned closer, never taking her eyes off his.
"Was heading out on my second deployment in '05. Fell asleep in the barracks," he cleared his throat, "and woke up in a field in 1845."
"You've been here over twenty years?" Halona looked at him, feeling a wave of hopelessness wash over her.
"Well, if you've found a way home," he chuckled, "you be sure and let me know."
"Yeah." She shook her head, laughing along with him, though there was no real humor in it. "How did you know?" Halona asked. "In the general store, how did you know?"
"You didn't feel that inside you?" He poured himself another drink, the liquid gurgling as it filled the glass. "Inside, it's like someone is scratchin' on the back of your ribs."
"I feel it." She nodded. "But how did you know what it meant?"
"Met a woman years ago. She was visiting, like us. But she was born in the past and had moved forward."
"Where is she now?" Halona held her breath, intently waiting for his answer.
"Locked her up in the nut house." He said solemnly, his eyes distant.
Halona finished the last sip of her whiskey, the burn in her throat matching the ache in her chest. She gave a solemn nod, understanding what he meant. His words reconfirmed that she had to blend into this harsh reality, as it was her new life now whether she liked it or not. A wave of sadness came over her as she wondered if finding another 'visitor' as he called it was more comforting or disheartening. If there really was no way back home, she would have to live in the present moment and plan for her future here.
She studied the grizzled man's creased and weathered face, noting the small scar above his left eyebrow. "I'm Halona Blackwater," she said in almost a whisper, holding her hand out.
The man's jaw tightened slightly, a muscle twitching beneath the stubble on his cheek. "Lieutenant Colonel Todd Madison." He reached over the table and shook her hand, his calloused palm rough against hers.
Chapter 8
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona threw on a pair of oversized sunglasses, slipped out the back door, and hurried to the garage. She jumped into the rental car and slammed the door, the thin metal feeling useless against the mess she knew awaited. The second she pulled out of the driveway, all hell broke loose.
A mob of photographers swarmed her car, their cameras clicking like crazy and their shouts a jumbled mess. Halona wouldn't give them what they wanted, though. She kept her head down, chin buried in her coat collar.
As she navigated through the city streets, Halona's eyes were drawn to the stark reality around her. The homeless population, which had always been a concern, seemed to have exploded overnight. Tents and makeshift shelters lined entire blocks, a testament to the growing crisis. She watched in dismay as a clearly intoxicated man stumbled into traffic, narrowly avoiding disaster. At a stoplight, Halona witnessed a scuffle unfold – a young woman clutching her purse as two men tried to wrench it away. The scene left her feeling helpless and shaken, a grim reminder of how much had changed in her absence.
Reaching the building across the street, Halona parked in the mostly empty lot. The quiet was deafening after the chaos she'd just left behind. Stepping into the plain lobby, she took the elevator to the eighth floor. The whole place was unfamiliar – muted walls, muffled voices, everyone wearing masks. It did nothing to calm the whirlwind of emotions churning inside her. "Ms. Blackwater?" The receptionist's voice chimed, breaking Halona out of her thoughts. The receptionist, a friendly woman with a name tag that read "Sarah," gestured towards a cozy-looking office. "Dr. Paulson will see you in a moment. Please, make yourself comfortable."
The office was small but tastefully decorated. Soft throw pillows adorned a plush armchair, and a calming nature scene hung on the wall. Halona's gaze drifted towards the window, seeking solace. But the view offered little comfort. Empty office buildings, and boarded-up retail stores formed a desolate landscape. People scurried on the street below, masked figures flitting through the city. A sigh escaped her lips as she sipped the lukewarm coffee.
"Ms. Blackwater?" A gentle voice broke the silence. A tall, slender woman with a kind smile stood in the doorway. Her name tag read "Dr. Paulson." "Please, call me Dianna." She extended a warm hand.
Halona stood, her own hand feeling clammy despite the air conditioning. "Nice to meet you." Taking a deep breath, she blurted out, "I don't know how this works. Therapy. Do I, like, lie down on a couch or something?"
Dianna chuckled, a soft sound that put Halona slightly at ease. "You can if you'd prefer," she said, gesturing to the plush armchair. "But there are no rules here. You can sit, walk around, whatever feels comfortable. We can talk about anything you want."
Halona settled onto the inviting couch. "Why is everyone wearing masks?" She blurted out, the question that had been gnawing at her since she'd stepped outside.
Dianna's smile softened further. "We're still recovering from a global pandemic," she explained. "It's caused a lot of changes in the world, while you were... away." Her voice trailed off, leaving a question hanging in the air. "How are you handling being back home?"
"Not well," Halona admitted, her voice barely a whisper.
"It must feel overwhelming," Dianna said gently. "Imagine waking up to a world that seems completely alien." She continued, "I reviewed your file and the police report before you arrived. I understand you've been through a lot."
Halona's chin trembled, threatening to erupt in tears. "I don't even..." she stammered, frustration lacing her voice. "I don't know what happened to me."
"What do you remember?" Dianna asked softly.
Halona shook her head, despair clouding her eyes. "Nothing that makes sense. It's all a blur." Then, a whisper of fear crept into her mind, "I think I'm going crazy."
Dianna offered a reassuring smile. "We don't like to use that term anymore."
"What else would you call it?" Halona asked, clinging to the doctor's words like a lifeline. "I don't know what's fucking real? I'm loosing my grip with reality."
Dianna didn't answer directly. Instead, she asked a probing question, "Why do you feel like you're losing your grip?"
Halona furrowed her brow, struggling to articulate the chaos within. "I'm not sure," she finally admitted.
"Do you hear voices?" Dianna pressed gently.
Halona hesitated, trying to piece together the fragmented memories. "Maybe?" she said uncertainly. "I think I did, but they're gone now."
"And you seem troubled by their absence?" Dianna observed.
Halona swallowed hard, a flood of emotions threatening to spill over. "The worst part is, I don't remember anything from the time I went missing. These visions, or dreams... they feel so real, but I can't tell what's real and what's not."
Dianna's expression turned serious. "There were no traces of drugs in your system when you were admitted to the hospital," she began, "but some substances can metabolize quickly and leave no evidence."
Halona's breath hitched. "So you think someone drugged me?"
Dianna shrugged, "It's a possibility the police are considering. It could explain the dreamlike state you're in and the memory loss. But there are other reasons why you might be blocking out what happened."
"Like what?" Halona's voice trembled slightly.
"Trauma," Dianna said, her gaze fixed on Halona's face. A flicker of pain crossed Halona's features, a silent confirmation of the doctor's words. "Our minds have a remarkable capacity for self-preservation," Dianna continued. "Sometimes, to protect ourselves from overwhelming emotional pain, we shut out traumatic memories. What's been the most difficult part of being back home, Halona?" Dianna asked gently.
The thought of her family was too much to bear. Every night, putting Isaac and Megan to bed used to be a normal part of her life. Now, those memories of their tiny bodies snuggled close, their kisses goodnight, felt stolen from her. Buck, her husband, the one who always made her laugh and filled their home with warmth, was gone too. His absence left a huge hole in her heart, a constant ache she couldn't ignore.
But these thoughts were dangerous. Dwelling on them felt like a bad idea, something that could send her to a locked room with padded walls. A shiver ran through her as the memory came back strong and clear. Closing her eyes tight, Halona fought back the flood of images threatening to overwhelm her. Each picture was a painful reminder of everything she'd lost.
"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, muffled against his chest 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,"
Halona tried to hold on to the memory, but it slowly dissipated. The loneliness setting into her heart.
The therapist's voice cut through the fog of Halona's memories. "Where were you just now?" she asked gently, concern etching lines on her forehead.
Halona blinked, dragged back to reality. "I-I want to say memories," she stammered, "But more like..." The image of Buck's face twisted in fear as she dropped the pocket watch flashed behind her eyes, sharp and painful. "Hallucinations, I guess."
Dianna's gaze softened. "How often do you have these thoughts?"
"It's not just thoughts," Halona choked out, wrapping her arms around herself in a futile attempt to comfort herself. She rose and walked to the window. "It's physical too. Sometimes it feels like..."
"Your body is healing, Halona. And so is your mind. It will take time, like any deep wound."
"So I'm not crazy?" Halona asked.
Dianna's smile was both reassuring and sad. "No, you're not crazy. You've endured a trauma. And like any trauma, it leaves scars. It will get better. As you heal, these episodes will become less frequent, until they fade away completely."
Halona turned and looked out the window, a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "That's what I'm afraid of."
Chapter 9
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1871
Time had stretched into a blurry mess since Halona vanished. Buck shouldered the weight of rebuilding his life, a life that felt strangely empty without her. Even though their years together were few, the void she left behind seemed to swallow him whole.
He slumped into his favorite chair, the worn leather welcoming him. His eyes drifted across the familiar room, taking in the faded wallpaper and the soft glow of the oil lamp. A flicker of a smile touched his lips as he watched Isaac, brow furrowed in concentration, turn the page of his book. The soft rustle of paper was oddly comforting in the quiet room.
Megan lay curled up on the rug in front of the fireplace, the flames casting dancing shadows across her small form. A pang of grief stabbed at Buck's heart. He saw the emptiness mirrored in his children's eyes. Halona's absence hung heavy in the air, a constant reminder of the missing piece in their lives.
Explaining it felt impossible. How could he? He'd stuck with the story he told the Sheriff – he saw her go outside, then...nothing. It was true, in a way, but a hollow truth compared to the reality that gnawed at him. But the real truth, the one that twisted his insides, how could he even begin to explain that?
With no signs of a struggle and no body found, the sheriff had concluded Halona had simply left. Buck knew whispers snaked through the farmhands and townsfolk about what really happened to Mrs. Cross. Some echoed the sheriff's theory, painting her as a young woman restless with farm life and stepchildren.
Others murmured about a tragic accident or even suicide, with Buck as the shadowy figure covering it up to protect the kids. The darkest rumor, the one that sent chills down his spine, was that a fight had turned deadly, leaving him responsible for Halona's disappearance. He forced himself to push the rumors away, but the accusations stung his already broken heart.
The sound of rustling paper drew Buck's attention away from the flickering fire. Megan, still curled on the rug, was hunched over a small blue notebook, her brow furrowed in concentration.
"Are you drawing, Megan?" Buck asked, his voice rough from disuse. He pushed himself out of the chair with a soft grunt and crouched beside her.
Megan shook her head. "No, Papa. Just writing in my journal."
"A journal?" Buck raised an eyebrow, surprised by this new development.
"Yeah," Megan sniffled, her small fingers tracing the edge of the page. "Mama gave it to me before...everything." Her voice trailed off, heavy with unspoken sadness. "She said it's for me to put all my feelings in."
"That sounds like a great idea," Buck said gently, reaching out to stroke her hair. The silky strands slipped through his calloused fingers. "Remember, you can always talk to me too."
Megan looked up at him, her eyes searching his face. "Papa?" she asked in a small voice, "Will she ever come back?"
Buck's heart ached, a dull throb that never seemed to fade. "I wish I knew, honey," he admitted honestly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.
"Why did she leave?" Isaac piped up from across the room, his tone laced with accusation. The book lay forgotten in his lap.
"There are a lot of things people might be saying right now," Buck began carefully, choosing his words with caution, "things that aren't true. And I want you both to know that Halona would never do anything to hurt you."
"She wasn't our real mom anyway." Isaac shrugged, his expression sullen. He picked at a loose thread on his sleeve, avoiding Buck's gaze.
Megan gasped, her eyes wide with surprise. "Yes, she was!" She cried out, her voice cracking with emotion.
"No, she wasn't," Isaac countered, his jaw set stubbornly.
"She may not have given birth to you," Buck interjected, trying to calm the rising tension. He could feel it crackling in the air like static electricity. "But she who loved you and took care of you every day. And that's what makes a mother."
Tears streamed down Megan's face, leaving glistening trails on her cheeks. "I miss her, Papa," she choked out, burying her face in Buck's shirt. He could feel the dampness seeping through the fabric.
Buck wrapped his arms around her tightly, his own throat thick with emotion. "Me too, honey," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Me too." He looked at both his children, their faces etched with grief. The weight of their sorrow pressed down on him, threatening to crush him. "But I want you both to remember this. Hallie, loved you both, very much. And she wouldn't have left you if she had any other choice."
The fire crackled softly in the background, its warmth a stark contrast to the chill that had settled in Buck's heart. As he held his daughter close and met his son's troubled gaze.
Chapter 10
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona's fingers trembled as she clutched the TV remote, her eyes wide with disbelief as she flipped through the channels. The world had changed beyond recognition during her almost three-year absence. The news anchors spoke of a deadly virus that had swept across the globe. Images of deserted streets, masked faces, and overwhelmed hospitals filled the screen. Halona's heart raced as she learned about the Covid-19 pandemic, the lockdowns, and the race for a vaccine.
Switching to YouTube, she stumbled upon a video titled "Tiger King," which seemed to be a bizarre documentary about a flamboyant zookeeper and a fierce rivalry within the world of big cat enthusiasts. Halona shook her head in bewilderment, wondering if she had somehow stumbled into an alternate reality.
As she continued her virtual journey, more shocking events unfolded. Political upheavals dominated the headlines, from former President Trump's impeachment trials to the violent insurrection at the Capitol on January 6th. Halona watched in horror as protesters stormed the Capitol building. The war in Ukraine, sparked by Russia's invasion, added another layer of pain to Halona's already heavy heart. She couldn't fathom the suffering of innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.
As she delved deeper into the world of social media, Halona encountered a myriad of trends and movements. The "Hot Girl Summer" and "Soft Girl" aesthetics, the rise of cottagecore, and the viral "Renegade" dance craze on TikTok all left her feeling like an outsider in her own time.
The conviction of Harvey Weinstein, the ongoing legal battle between Johnny Depp and Amber Heard, and the "Free Britney" movement shed light on the darker side of celebrity culture and the rampant invasion of privacy in the digital age. Halona couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by everything that had transpired while she was away. Her mind whirled with questions and doubts. As the sun began to set, Halona realized that her journey back to the present had only just begun.
Despite everything changing around her, Halona found some comfort in the fact that certain things remained constant. The Kardashians were still dominating headlines, Taylor Swift's popularity continued to rise and divide opinions and the West Coast was still ablaze with wildfires. She leaned back on the couch, trying to process everything.
As difficult as it was to adapt to life in 1870, it seemed strangely more natural compared to the fast-paced world she left behind three years ago. It made her understand Lieutenant Colonel Todd Madison's warning about another "visitor" like themselves, who went mad and was locked away. But as much as society in the past may have been deemed insane, Halona couldn't help but question the sanity of the present day.
"Mmm mmmm, no ma'am I know you aren't still plugged in." Sydney walked into the living room and turned the lights on. When she left the night before Halona was right where she was now, sitting on the couch pouring over news reports trying to catch up from the time she was missing.
"I guess I lost track of time." She yawned and stretched.
Even though Halona was annoyed that Damian rehired Sydney, she was secretly thankful. Sydney had assured Halona that it was a favor to get her out of a boring office job.
"You want a kale smoothie?" Sydney yelled from the kitchen.
"I'd rather dry swallow a catus." Halona grimaced.
"Seriously? You don't look good. Hope it's not Covid." Sydney hovered around, concern etched on her face.
"Relax, Syd. I was up all night," Halona pointed out the obvious. "I'll take my vitamins and a nap."
"You have a doctor's appointment in just over an hour."
"Shit I forgot!" Halona ran upstairs and quickly tossed some clothes on. She didn't have time for a shower so she brushed her teeth and put her hair in a messy bun before joining Sydney in the kitchen.
"You goin' out like that?" Sydney raised an eyebrow at her friend.
"Yeah," Halona lifted her arm and sniffed herself, finding no offensive odor she shrugged and looked at Sydney. "Why?"
"Looks like a seagull has been using your head as it's nest."
"I'm starting a new trend." Halona giggled deliriously from the lack of sleep mixed with the overwhelming information overload.
"No, girl stop. You look like you're doing the walk of shame from college days," Sydney insisted.
Frustrated, Halona ran back upstairs and put on a large grey hoodie and sunglasses to hide her disheveled state.
"Now you look like the Unabomber," Sydney joked as they climbed into her SUV.
The drive to the doctor's office was a blur for Halona as she struggled to keep her queasy stomach under control. Finally arriving at the sterile waiting room, she sank into a chair and took deep breaths.
The doctor's examination was quick, but the wait for test results felt like an eternity. At least her nausea seemed to be subsiding. When the doctor finally returned, he settled into his rolling chair with a hint of amusement in his eyes.
"Sorry for the delay," he apologized.
"My assistant and I have a bet going." Halona smiled weekly at him. "I say food poisoning she thinks it's Covid."
"Looks like a draw," the doctor chuckled. "You're expecting."
Halona's laugh died in her throat as the doctor's smile faltered.
"Pregnant?" She choked out.
"Yes," the doctor confirmed, holding up a chart. "Definitely pregnant."
Disbelief washed over her. "This can't be happening," she whispered, shaking her head in denial.
"I'll send in a prescription to help with the nausea," the doctor said, his voice gentle. He reached the door, and then paused. "Make sure to schedule an ultrasound when you check out at the front desk."
Alone in the silent room, Halona's mind reeled. Had she done something reckless, something beyond drowning her sorrows in the weeks after her return? Surely, she hadn't slept with a stranger! But the chilling doubt gnawed at her. Had she?
Then, a horrifying possibility surfaced. Could her abductor be responsible? The FBI had confirmed it was an abduction, but the details – how she escaped, who took her – remained unknown. The very thought of her abductor violating her in such a way sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over her. Grabbing the nearby wastebasket just in time, Halona emptied her stomach.
Chapter 11
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Gazing out the window at the city streets, Halona felt lost. The doctor's news spun in her head, refusing to slow down. No matter how she replayed the events in her mind, a scary doubt lingered. The worst possibility wouldn't go away. Maybe it was her kidnapper. The thought made her shiver. Was that why they took her? Did they plan this all along? "Stop it, Halona," she mumbled to herself. "You've watched too many episodes of Criminal Minds." She forced a weak laugh.
Pieces of memory surfaced - the hospital doctor talking quietly with the FBI about a sexual assault exam. Relief had flooded her then, the news of no physical injuries. But this new information made her reconsider everything. Could she have been drugged? Raped, not by force, but by being tricked or having her mind clouded by drugs? Unable to fight back. Fury bubbled up, and she punched the pillow on her lap. Why couldn't she remember? If she was drugged and attacked, kept prisoner against her will, it explained a terrifying truth - her mind creating a happy escape, a safe place to hide from the awful reality.
"I can't believe you're having a baby, dude." Sydney burst in, shoving a steaming mug of tea into Halona's hands. "A motherfucking vag destroyer!"
Halona chuckled, trying to wrap her head around the news herself. "Yeah,"
"How far along are you?" Sydney asked,.
"Not sure yet," Halona admitted. "I scheduled an ultrasound."
"Damian mentioned a rough patch when you first got back," Sydney recalled. "Do you know who the father is?"
Halona leaned against her friend, feeling super drained. "I wasn't myself for a while. You know how I usually am, having a glass of wine with dinner, maybe going out for drinks to celebrate something..." Halona smiled and rested her head on Sydney's lap. "But this time, I just wanted to forget everything."
"Halona, I'm so sorry I didn't go out with you that night," Sydney confessed.
"Don't you dare blame yourself, Syd," Halona said seriously. "Don't even go there."
"I'm sorry - "
"I never for one second would blame you." She hugged Sydney tight.
"Well, I'm glad you're home now," Sydney smiled.
Halona paused, a question on her mind. "Ever feel like you're just...off? Like not yourself?"
"Yeah, for sure," Sydney said. "We all get like that sometimes. Maybe it's hormones or something?"
"Maybe," Halona agreed. Then, an awkward silence hung between them.
Sydney knew how touchy Halona could be about family, especially her own past. But she felt compelled to ask. "Have you thought about all your options?" She ventured cautiously.
Halona lifted her head, eyebrows furrowed. "Options?"
"You know... you don't have to have it…" Sydney spoke carefully.
"No, I couldn't do that..."
Sydney hesitated. "I hate to bring this up, but have you considered that maybe... it's the person that…"
Halona's eyes widened. The person who'd taken her, held her captive, and vanished from her memory could be the father of her unborn child. Even knowing this, Halona couldn't imagine terminating the pregnancy. She craved this baby, no matter its origins. But raising a child alone, and without knowing the real father was terrifying. Adoption might have been an option under different circumstances, but she yearned for this child - it was hers.
Chapter 12
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Agent Carl Dunbar sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Two months on the Blackwater case, and they were nowhere closer to finding her abductor. They'd just cleared every ranch hand as suspects, and the investigation was starting to feel like a dead end.
No footprints around the scene, no signs of struggle, no evidence on the victim's body besides a mysterious scar she couldn't explain. What really baffled him was the footage from the film company. An entire week of filming before her disappearance, no suspicious figure lurking in the shadows, He watched hours of footage and there was nothing to see but a carefree and spirited young woman with no idea what was coming.
The pressure was mounting. The FBI director demanded answers, the media was relentless, and his superiors were breathing down his neck. This was a high-profile case, and they'd already poured a ton of resources into finding her when she first went missing. Now, they were back to square one, with the added weight of a potential crime hanging heavy in the air.
"Ms. Blackwater?" He began, clearing his throat to get her attention.
"Yes?" Halona replied, her voice laced with apprehension.
"Special Agent Dunbar."
"Did you catch him?" Her voice held a tremor of hope.
"No, I'm afraid not," Dunbar apologized. "We cleared everyone at the farm and just wanted to let you know we're following up on every lead."
Halona's brow furrowed. "Farm?"
"Yes, ma'am. A farmworker at a farm in San Juan Capistrano found you and called the police."
"What?" She repeated, bewildered. Why hadn't anyone told her this before? "A farm in San Juan? This doesn't make sense."
Dunbar sighed. "Honestly, there's a lot about this case that doesn't make much sense."
"Can I go there and see it for myself? Maybe something might jog my memory?"
"We can arrange that." He flipped through his calendar. "When would you be available to fly into LA?"
"I can clear my schedule and be there this week," Halona said with a glint in her eyes.
"Wednesday work for you?"
"I'll be at your office at nine," she confirmed.
"Sounds good, Ms. Blackwater." He scribbled a note on his pad.
As soon as Halona hung up, Sydney, her assistant, expressed her concern. "You sure this is a good idea?"
Halona shook her head, her expression resolute. "No, but I need answers."
"Want me to come with you?" Sydney offered.
"No, I'll be fine," Halona reassured her, forcing a smile. She placed her coffee cup down. The truth was, she didn't want anyone with her. When Agent Dunbar mentioned a farm in San Juan Capistrano, her stomach lurched. Were they right? Did she subconsciously piece together fragments of information she picked up while drugged to create those vivid dreams? How else could she have ended up on a farm – a farm in the very same place she dreamt of living?
Pushing those anxieties aside, Halona focused on the facts. "Besides, I need you to handle some staffing issues here. Being gone for a month, most of the services I had are on hold. We need to find a pool guy, a housekeeper – make sure they're bonded and have good references. And the landscaping company I used moved to the East Bay, so the lawn and backyard look like a jungle."
"Consider it done," Sydney said, diligently taking notes on her iPad.
"Thanks," Halona said gratefully.
Sydney paused, her gaze filled with worry. "Halona, be careful, okay?"
"I will," Halona promised, pulling Sydney into a hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. "I'm just going to pack a bag."
Sydney chuckled. "Just one?"
Halona winked. "Yeah, I'm roughing it," she teased, a hint of nervousness masked by her playful demeanor.
Chapter 13
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1871
A cool breeze rustled through the trees near the half-finished house. Buck moved through the skeletal frame, his fingertips tracing the rough wood. The setting sun cast an orange glow through the open living room window, offering a glimpse of the ocean beyond.
"Shouldn't be much longer now," Buck murmured, his voice heavy with grief. "Enough to get started on the inside at least."
He'd poured his heart into this house, envisioned it as their haven. The master bedroom and living room framed perfect views of the ocean, while the kitchen and dining room looked out onto the peaceful forest behind. He'd even splurged on indoor plumbing, a detail that had brought a radiant smile to her face.
"Sweetheart," he whispered, brushing a stray tear from his cheek. It had become a ritual, seeking solace within these unfinished walls, speaking to Halona as if she could hear him. "I miss you. I pray you find your way back me, back to us."
Gone. That was the brutal reality. He had to be strong, not just for himself, but for the children. Two wives, both ripped away too soon. After losing his first wife, he'd mourned deeply, never expecting to find love again. Then, through some stroke of fate or divine intervention, Halona had appeared in his life. A smile touched his lips as he recalled the first moment he realized he was falling in love with her...
Buck frowned. "What's so funny?"
"I'm never going to get home," she said, her voice barely a whisper.
He rose from his chair and walked towards her. Kneeling by the window seat, he took her hand in his.
"Hey," he said, his voice gentle. "If California is what you truly want, I'll take you there."
"You would take me all the way to California?" She looked into his eyes sadly.
"Of course," he said, squeezing her hand.
"You're probably the kindest man I've ever met." A sad smile touched her lips. "But it wouldn't change anything. I don't belong here, Buck. Can't you feel it?" Her words hung heavy in the air, a silent plea for understanding. "This place, this time…" she continued, her voice trembling slightly. "It's all wrong."
Silence descended once more, thick and heavy. Then, to his surprise, Halona leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. The kiss was unexpected, a surge of emotions bottled up and suddenly released. He responded instinctively, pulling her close.
The thought of love was something Buck wanted to avoid. His heart, already scarred, felt too fragile. But Halona had breached his defenses. Despite her initial declaration – choosing "home" over him – Buck couldn't hold back the tide of affection that swept over him. He loved her fiercely, and eventually, she chose him.
The most unbearable part was the uncertainty. Was she alive? Did she return to her own time, leaving him behind? Had she simply vanished, her existence erased? The logic of these questions mocked him, but no alternative explanation fit the bizarre circumstances surrounding her disappearance. He believed her story, every fantastical element of it.
His hand instinctively reached into his pocket, finding solace in the smooth coolness of silver. Her pocket watch was a constant reminder of her presence. Holding it brought a sliver of peace, even as tears welled up in his eyes. The once pristine watch had become a symbol of their shattered life together. The crystal was shattered, the hands frozen in time, the clasp broken.
Buck clutched the watch to his chest, a sob escaping his lips. He couldn't let the children see him like this, so he sought refuge within the unfinished house – their future that would never be. Here, in this shell of a dream, he could talk to her, even if it was just an echo in his own mind.
Chapter 14
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 2022
Tuesday night found Halona landing at LAX. She snagged a rental car and made it to her hotel, managing a few restless hours of sleep. A whirlwind of emotions churned within her – nervousness, a flicker of hope that a visit to the farm might jog her memory, and a deep-seated apprehension bordering on fear.
The next morning, Agents Dunbar and Jacoby arrived to pick her up. The black SUV's ride was quiet as Halona stared out the window, the cityscape blurring past. The drive stretched for over an hour, and unfortunately, they were far enough inland for the ocean to be hidden from view.
Los Angeles, her childhood home, felt like a distant memory. It was crowded, perpetually shrouded in smog, and held an unpleasant scent that clung to the air. San Francisco, her adopted city, wasn't much better. But on the rare days when the fog cleared, the city revealed a stunning beauty – cool, bathed in sunshine, and invigorated by the fresh ocean breeze.
As they neared San Juan Capistrano, traffic thinned, and glimpses of the ocean peeked through the trees and buildings. Halona sat up, craning her neck for a better view as they exited the freeway. They must be getting close. They weaved through neighborhoods and passed a golf course, nothing resembling a farm in sight. Her curiosity piqued, she looked up as they drove through a grand iron gate with a sign that proclaimed "Broken Arrow Farm."
The place felt more like a sprawling park than a working farm, she mused as they followed a secluded road lined with ancient oak trees. Then, as they crested a hill, a breath-taking sight unfolded before them. A majestic Victorian mansion, stately and elegant, stood proudly in a clearing. San Francisco's Victorians had always held a special place in her heart, but this one, perched against the backdrop of the vast ocean, was simply stunning. The car came to a stop, and Halona practically leaped out of the back seat, eager to stretch her legs and take in the incredible view. The sprawling cityscape stretched out below, merging seamlessly with the seemingly endless ocean on the horizon.
A middle-aged man with kind eyes and dark brown hair, with a dusting of grey emerged from the house, his smile warm. "Agents, welcome back. And you must be Ms. Blackwater. It's a pleasure to meet you, finally under better circumstances."
Halona offered a weak smile and a handshake. "Thank you."
"I'm Michael," the man continued, "and my wife Jenna is inside. Busy with the grandkids, it's like a cookie factory in there."
"We appreciate your cooperation," Agent Jacoby said, his gruff demeanor a stark contrast to Michael's easygoing nature. Halona fought back a laugh. Agent Jacoby could disarm a bomb with his bare hands, but social niceties? Not his forte.
Michael led them towards a nearby barn. "We certainly hope this visit jogs your memory. This is where we found you, right by the barn here."
Halona scanned the area, her brow furrowed. "This is a very small farm," she noted.
"The whole hillside used to be Broken Arrow Farm," Michael explained, gesturing expansively. "Stretched as far as the eye could see."
"Land values must have skyrocketed," Halona remarked, piecing things together.
"You got that right," Michael chuckled. "My grandparents sold most of the coastal land when prices went crazy and bought more land further inland. Now the farm itself is about fifteen miles east of here. But this," he said, tapping his foot on the ground, "this is the original farmstead."
Intrigued, Halona smiled. "Wow, so this has been in your family for generations? That's amazing. So many family businesses don't make it past one or two."
"This place has been in the family since my fifth great-grandfather started it. Been passed down ever since."
"Well, that's something special," Halona smiled weakly.
"Sir, we just have a few questions for you if we could have a moment of your time, perhaps inside?" Agent Dunbar cut in politely. Then, turning to Halona, he added, "We'll give you some time to explore on your own."
"Absolutely," Michael said, his gaze flickering between Halona and the agents. "Feel free to wander wherever you like. And gentlemen," he added with a smile, "why don't you come in and have some of those fresh cookies?"
With a wave, Michael led the agents back towards the house. Halona, left alone by the barn, took a deep breath and started walking through the orchard, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. But try as she might, nothing concrete emerged.
Then, as she stepped through the entrance of the barn, a wave of recognition washed over her, intense and undeniable. It was like a dam had broken, flooding her with a torrent of memories. It wasn't the layout, the dusty hay bales, or the faint scent of manure that triggered the memory. It was something smaller, more subtle. A familiar inscription was carved onto the wooden doorway.
Squinting, she tried to decipher the faded markings. Numbers, a single letter... it was faint, barely there, but a tremor of excitement ran through her. Memories, long dormant, stirred within her. Suddenly, a scene unfolded in her mind, vivid and clear.
Laughter echoed in the air, the sound of playful squabbling between children. Halona, her hair pulled back in a messy braid, held a worn pocketknife in her hand.
"What are you doing?" Isaac asked as he watched Halona make a mark above Megan's head on the barn doorway with a knife.
"Marking the doorway." She made the mark slightly deeper and carved an M next to it with the number 1871. "Your turn."
"What's this for?" Isaac stood still.
"Every year we will do this and you can look back and see how tall you grew that year."
"I'm going to be this tall next year." Megan stood on her toes and pointed as high as she could.
Halona ruffled her hair playfully. "Well, if you want to be that tall, you better eat all your vegetables!"
"I'm going to be taller than Papa one day!" Isaac declared, his voice filled with determination.
A hearty laugh boomed from the barn entrance. Buck, his face creased with amusement, rounded the corner and scooped Megan into his arms.
"Is that so my boy?" He teased, tickling Megan's sides before setting her down and patting his sons back protectively.
"Someday I will, Papa!"
The memory faded as quickly as it came, leaving Halona breathless. Her heart ached with a bittersweet pang. This wasn't a dream, a fantasy conjured by her subconscious. This was a real memory, a fragment of her life on the farm with Buck and the children. Her heart hammered in her chest as she traced the faded lines on the wood. The grooves were barely discernible.
Tears welled up in her eyes as she saw markings above the ones she remembered carving. How was this possible? These were her memories, not dreams. But how? Did she witness someone else making these marks as a child, and then somehow incorporate them into her fabricated reality? Shaking her head in disbelief, she leaned against the rough frame of the doorway.
"Those markings, we believe, were made by some of my ancestors as well," Michael said, his voice startling her. He'd been on his way to feed the chickens and noticed the distressed look on her face. "See here, the dates."
She took a shaky breath. "It was... to see how much they grew."
"That's what we think, yes," he said with a kind smile.
A fragile smile touched her lips as she studied the markings. Megan's last recorded height fell several inches short of her own, while Isaac's had grown considerably. A memory flickered to life – Isaac's determined declaration to his father that he'd one day be taller.
"My ancestors bought the farm in 1870." Michael replied. "The big house here, was built in 1871. There was a small home about a mile east. But a fire took it in the nineteen twenties," he explained. "The land was sold and the farm relocated inland until after that. That's when the orchard was planted."
"What was their name?" Her voice hitched as she asked, "Your ancestor?" Dread gnawed at her, but she needed confirmation.
"Cross," he answered, pointing to an inscription on the wall.
"Isaac," she whispered, her mind reeling. Uncertainty warred with a flicker of hope.
"The other marks there would've belonged to his sister, I reckon."
Her breath caught in her throat. "Megan," she breathed, the name tumbling out on a shaky exhale.
"How did you know?" Michael asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.
"Just a lucky guess," she stammered, forcing her mind back from the brink of overwhelm. This was too much, too surreal. Impossible, yet undeniable.
"They're buried over yonder, past the orchard, in the family cemetery," he offered, gesturing in the direction he'd mentioned earlier. "If you'd like to see..."
"Yes," she managed.
But she couldn't bear to look. She had to look. She now had tangible evidence - she wasn't delusional, losing her mind, or imagining a kidnapping. The reality was far more insane. This was proof, indisputable proof, that she'd lived there in the past. Proof that Buck wasn't a figment of her imagination. Somehow, that knowledge brought a sense of peace, but the heartbreak was all too real.
Chapter 15
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 2022
Halona squinted, trying to picture the landscape as she remembered it. The changes were huge, making it hard to connect the dots. As she followed Michael toward the cemetery, a weird feeling of déjà vu hit her. Closing her eyes for a sec, she tried to get her bearings. South of the house, behind the barn - that's where her garden used to be. She snapped her eyes open and picked up the pace to catch up with Michael.
These weren't just dreams. These were her memories, pieces of a life she once lived. Not made-up stories her mind had cooked up, but real experiences, etched in time. At first, she felt relieved - no kidnapping, no assault, no unwanted pregnancy. But then came the crushing realization - she'd lost Buck, the kids, the life they'd built together.
"My wife and I don't keep up with celebrity gossip, so when the police told us who you were, it went right over our heads," Michael chuckled, completely oblivious to the emotional turmoil churning within Halona. "No offense intended, of course."
"None taken," she managed, a strained laugh escaping her lips.
"I have seen a few of your movies, though," he continued, a hint of pride in his voice.
"I hope you enjoyed them."
"Very much so." He hitched his thumbs through his suspenders, a broad smile on his face.
"Can you tell me about them?" She tried to ask as casually as possible. "Your ancestors?"
"They moved here in eighteen seventy-one from Texas." He led her through the orchard. "Buck Cross and his wife, with their children Isaac and Megan. Though in researching our family history, we found the children were actually her stepchildren."
"His wife?" Halona echoed, her voice barely a whisper. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat. That was her.
Michael gave her a questioning look before continuing. "We're not exactly sure of her name. Most of the records were destroyed in the fire that took the old house back in the twenties."
A strange sense of comfort washed over Halona, tinged with bittersweet pain. It was a relief to know what happened to her family, even though it meant they were gone. She never got to raise the children or grow old with Buck. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. All her youth she had dreamed of the life she was now living, but all she wanted now was her husband, her children, her family.
"Megan's kid's moved north to Oregon," Michael continued, carefully clearing dirt from the headstones. "So none of her family is buried here."
"How many children did she have?" Halona choked out, her voice thick with emotion.
"Two boys and a girl," Michael replied, wiping away a speck of dirt from a headstone. "Isaac had two boys himself, but one passed away just a few days after birth. He's buried here with Isaac and his wife, Marciella."
"Marciella?" Halona spun around, her eyes wide with surprise. The name resonated within her, a missing piece of the puzzle clicking into place.
"She was the daughter of their foreman. Here is Megan and her husband Horace." He explained. "The Aguella family raised Isaac and Megan."
A giant headstone stood out in the cemetery, and Halona walked towards it, her legs shaky. She knelt down in front of it, carefully pulling away dirt and leaves that covered the writing. As she read the words carved into the stone, the world seemed to tilt around her. She grabbed onto the cold, smooth stone to steady herself.
The top corner of the headstone was broken, hiding parts of the names.
A horrible truth hit Halona all at once:
In loving memory Buck and Halona Cross May they find each other again.
Dread choked Halona's voice as she stammered, "What happened to them?"
Michael chuckled nervously. "Well, that's our family ghost story. Nobody knows for sure. Mostly just rumors and stories passed down through the years."
Tears welled up in Halona's eyes. Just an hour ago, she'd convinced herself these memories were dreams. But standing here, on this very land, she knew. This wasn't a fantasy. This had been her life. She wasn't crazy, but there was no way to explain the truth clawing at her. This was her family, her husband. Her grip tightened on the cold stone, a dam barely holding back a torrent of emotions. It wasn't every day you realized you were looking at your own gravestone. Tears streamed down her face as her hand touched the ground. Buck was truly gone. No amount of prayers or tears would bring him back.
"Mrs. Cross," Michael began, shaking his head, "she vanished the year they moved here. There were rumors in an old newspaper we found, talk of her abandoning them. Some folks even thought her husband killed her, or maybe she had an accident and he hid the body."
Halona gasped, her mouth agape in horror. "That's awful!"
"Of course, our family prefers to believe it was an accident," Michael conceded. "But who can say for sure?"
"What about Buck?" She choked out.
"Everything we know about the family is from Megan's diary," Michael continued, his voice dropping to a dramatic whisper, "after she disappeared, everyone noticed a big change in him. Six months later, he just… vanished too."
"What?" Halona's voice barely rose above a whisper.
"That's where the ghost story comes in," Michael said with a raised eyebrow and a smile. "Some folks believe he just walked off into the woods. There were years of rumors about a wild man living out there. Even kids today say they see him haunting the place."
"No one knows what happened to him?" The weight of the revelation pressed down on Halona. She sat there, motionless, her chin trembling.
"We figure he probably took his own life," Michael said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.
Her head swiveled back and forth in horror. No, not her Buck. He would never have abandoned his children. No, he didn't kill himself. She was certain of that.
Halona barely managed to stammer, "I'm sorry," as she fought to regain her composure and stand up. "I just got a little dizzy."
Seeing her distress, Michael wrapped a comforting arm around her. "Come inside, sit down for a moment."
Chapter 16
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 2022
The tears had stopped by the time Halona made it to the steps of the large house. Her gaze shot upwards, landing on the "Cross Family" plaque displayed proudly above the doorway. A gasp escaped her lips as a wave of emotion washed over her. A vivid memory flickered to life – Buck and Isaac had spent a week working on carving the letters.
Stepping inside, she was met with the realization this wasn't just any house; it was the one meticulously constructed to be their haven. Though she could see the interior had undergone renovations over the years, the essence of her home remained. Sunlight streamed through the beveled glass windows, illuminating the beautiful hardwood floors. Her eyes were fixated on a particular spot in the parlor – the antique piano. Her piano.
"May I use the restroom, please?" She choked out, her voice barely a whisper. Her hand instinctively reached out to steady herself on the grand staircase.
"Of course," Michael replied kindly, leading her down a narrower hallway. "This is the original bathroom. Back in those days, indoor plumbing was a luxury reserved for the wealthiest families. Guess my great-great-grandfather was quite the progressive fellow."
Halona managed a faint smile, the urge to cry threatening to overwhelm her again. Alone in the cool confines of the bathroom, she splashed water on her face, letting the coolness seep into the heated frenzy within. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, she took a deep breath and spoke, her voice firming with resolve, "You're not crazy, Halona. You need to pull yourself together."
Emerging from the bathroom, instead of returning to the parlor she turned and continued down the hallway into a small office. Her fingers brushed against the spines of books lining the shelves.
Suddenly, her breath caught in her throat. Across the room, a glass display case on a table drew her gaze. A jolt of recognition shot through her – a memory, vivid and undeniable, flooded back into her mind.
"Is this a family heirloom?" She 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?"
Buck chuckled. "Not exactly. 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 hint of nostalgia lacing his voice.
"That peace pipe belonged to Buck Cross," Michael announced, pulling Halona from her daze.
"Calumet," she murmured, still dazed from the force of the memory flooding back.
Michael's brow furrowed. "Pardon me?"
"It's a calumet," she clarified with a smile tugging at her lips as she turned towards him. The intricate carved stem felt so familiar in her minds' eye. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop."
"I'm happy to give you a tour," Michael offered kindly.
"That would be great." Halona nodded, eager for a distraction from the emotions swirling within her. "I love Victorian-styled homes. It's one of the reasons I moved to San Francisco."
As they meandered through the foyer, the scent of aged wood and hints of lemon oil tickled her nose. Sunlight filtered through stained glass, casting a mosaic of colors across the hardwood floors.
"Beautiful city," Michael agreed with a warm smile. "My wife Jenna and I took our tenth-anniversary vacation there."
Trying to lighten the mood, Halona impulsively blurted, "Well, next time you're in the city, give me a call. I'd be happy to show you around and have you over for dinner." Realizing she might have overstepped, she quickly added, "It's the least I can do, you did find me, after all."
Michael chuckled. "Thanks." He gestured towards a shelf displaying intricately carved bowls and beaded trinkets. "There are a few more indigenous items over here."
She examined them carefully, fingers tracing the woven patterns. While beautifully crafted, none seemed to be the ones she remembered from her life with Buck. Perhaps they had belonged to Isaac or Megan.
"Buck, he was half Kiowa," Michael explained as they wandered into a small office, "and throughout the generations, we've become a mixed race family, like most people these days, I guess." He walked towards an antique cabinet, running his palm over the ornate woodwork. "Did you know about those ancestry DNA things? You know, the ones where you spit in a tube and they tell you all about your family history?"
Halona stifled a laugh at his chatty, easygoing personality providing a welcome distraction from the chaos in her head. "Yes, I'm familiar with them."
"Well, I barely have any indigenous blood left according to mine," Michael rambled on with a shrug. "Though there was an interesting journal entry from Megan - apparently they had a full-blooded relative, maybe a sibling."
P'áu úldàu Má é - or as she knew him, Red Bear
A pang of sadness squeezed Halona's heart. She knew Buck had grappled with his dual heritage – half white, half Kiowa – but he'd always held immense pride in his roots. He'd made a conscious effort to teach Isaac and Megan about their ancestry. A wave of sadness washed over her as she realized that his descendants hadn't carried on that tradition. Moving to California, far from Buck's Kiowa roots, had likely severed those ties. How would their future generations even know where they came from? A pang of guilt stabbed at her heart. They had moved west because of her.
"Here we go." Michael pulled a framed sepia-toned photograph off the wall, the image drawing Halona's gaze like a magnet. "Here's a picture of Buck and his children. It's a shame, I don't know why they didn't take a picture before she left, but there are no pictures of his wife."
"Yeah, shame," Halona murmured, running her fingernails over the glass with a mournful ache in her chest.
Buck's face in the image held a stoic expression, etched with lines that hadn't creased his features in her memories of him. He looked older, burdened by some unseen weight, and yet a flicker of the man she loved still shone through those eyes.
"This picture was taken right before their father went missing," Michael added somberly.
"Do you have any pictures of the children?" Halona asked, her voice barely above a whisper as she drank in every detail of the image. "When they were older?"
"Sure, let me see..." Michael rummaged through a nearby drawer, the contents clinking as he shuffled papers and knickknacks aside. He pulled out a few more photographs and presented them to Halona, each one a portal into the life she had lost.
One captured a radiant young woman on her wedding day. Megan, transformed into a beautiful stranger - and yet still undeniably her little girl that she used to tuck into bed at night, whispering prayers. Tears welled in Halona's eyes as she looked at the next picture, it showed Isaac, surrounded by his own family decades later. Though years had etched lines into his face, there was an undeniable resemblance to his father. His nose, cheekbones, and piercing gaze reflected back at her across the span of time.
Halona wandered slowly, her eyes studying each preserved relic and captured memory with a mix of longing and disbelief. She had to admit a small part of her searched for any glimpse of the silver pocket watch - but it was not among the heirlooms on display. Part of her knew there weren't any clear answers to what was happening - but her soul still ached to find an explanation.
A warm smile spread across her face when her gaze found the leather-bound journal she had gifted Megan when they were passing through San Francisco so many lifetimes ago. She carefully flipped through the yellowed pages, her heart shattering at each word penned by her daughter's hand describing the heartbreak of her father's disappearance.
Halona's breath caught as a small slip of paper fluttered onto the floor, going unseen by Michael. She quickly bent over and snatched it up, her mouth dropping open as she recognized her own handwriting on the aged parchment. Without a second thought, she shoved the note into her pocket.
A sliver of guilt rippled through her. She paused for a moment. She wanted to shove it in her purse, to devour every word of it, but she wasn't a thief. Even in desperation, she couldn't take this family memento from him. A sadness ripped through her. Those few years of happiness, gone. Like she was never there. Now she had to live her life. She needed to leave them in the past. She took a deep steadying breath as she tenderly placed the book on the shelf.
As Michael ushered her up the grand staircase to continue the tour, Halona couldn't shake the hollow ache in her chest. This house, this life, this was what should have been her reality. The master bedroom took her breath away. Sunlight streamed through the French doors, unveiling a breathtaking panorama of the Pacific coastline glittering in the afternoon light. The fresh, briny scent of the ocean embraced her. A bittersweet smile tugged at her lips as she drank in the view - this picturesque setting, this room. She felt her chin quiver, knowing that Buck had chosen to craft their forever home in this perfect slice of paradise.
If only she could have stayed...
Chapter 17
Los Angeles, CA - 2022
The drive back to LA was eerily quiet. Halona told the agents she didn't remember anything new, which was only half true. She had no memories of being kidnapped - because it had never happened. But how could she explain the reality of what she'd experienced? Time travel? No one would believe that. This was a secret she had to protect, lest she risk being locked away.
When they arrived at the Four Seasons hotel, Halona could feel the agents' disappointment weighing on her. Dinner was the last thing on her mind; she had only managed a coffee and a bagel that day, and her stomach was growling. Yet, her bigger worries gnawed at her. For weeks, she'd convinced herself that her memories were mere hallucinations. But now, knowing the truth, her heart ached with the loss and the pain.
Remembering the scrap of paper in her pocket, she pulled it out and read the name once more - Lieutenant Colonel Todd Madison. Her fellow visitor, as he had described himself. She could still see his weathered face and piercing blue eyes. Making a mental note, Halona resolved to hire a private investigator once she got home.
Though this paper confirmed she had lived in 1871, it didn't answer the questions racing through her mind. What had happened to Buck? Had he gone mad and wandered into the woods? What were the children's lives like? Had he taken his own life? Even though suicide seemed the more plausible answer, Halona couldn't accept it. She had seen the pain in his eyes when he spoke of his mother, whom he believed had killed herself. That pain alone would have prevented Buck from making such a choice. He would never have abandoned his children. Buck had lost a wife before - it had hurt, but he had moved on. He would have done so again, for the sake of his kids. He was a father first and foremost.
Halona picked at her chicken salad, forcing down a few bites. As she ate, memories that had been locked away for so long came flooding back. Her heart pounded as she remembered telling Buck she wanted to go "home," her home, instead of staying with him.
"Halona, listen to me," he murmured, his voice firm yet gentle. "This is real. You're here, with me now."
"Maybe," she whispered, a sliver of doubt clinging to her voice.
"You can't keep one foot here and one foot in your past." He warned. "If you could go home, right now," He tilted her head up and looked into her eyes. "Would you?"
Halona closed her eyes, tears welling up. The world she described, a world she barely recognized in her fragmented memories, felt both distant and unreal. Yet, the yearning for familiarity, for a life that made sense, was undeniable. Leaning in, she pressed a soft kiss to his lips. A bittersweet farewell, a silent acknowledgment of the bond they'd forged despite the impossible circumstances.
"Yes," she whispered, the word a choked sob against his mouth. "I'm sorry."
Halona squeezed her eyes shut and let out a choked sob. Hot tears streamed down her face, stinging her cheeks that were already tender from earlier crying. Guilt gnawed at her. Back then, she'd been so blind, so foolish. How could she not have seen how precious everything was?
"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?"
Halona was spent. Her eyes were puffy and red, tears no longer came, and her body ached with fatigue. The emotional rollercoaster had taken its toll. For weeks, she'd tried to convince herself that the memories were mere figments of her imagination, a way to cope with her loss. But now, the truth was a harsh reality. It wasn't a nightmare - it was her life. The confirmation that her family was truly gone reopened a fresh wound in her heart. The reality of her pregnancy hit her with the force of a freight train.
With no abduction to explain her situation and knowing she hadn't slept with a stranger, it struck her that she was carrying Buck's child. Numbness settled over her as she stared blankly at the wall for hours, lost in a sea of grief. Amidst the sorrow, a tiny glimmer of realization surfaced: a part of Buck lived on within her. Eventually, exhaustion took over, dragging her into a restless, troubled sleep.
Chapter 18
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1871
Buck had promised Halona that the house would be completed by Christmas, and now, standing before it, he saw it was finished a week ahead of schedule. He packed a box with some of his belongings, a necessary first step in moving on. But as he looked around at her things - a bottle of lavender water, a familiar hairbrush, clothes that still held the faint scent of her - he felt a pang of grief. Packing them away felt like burying a piece of himself. He couldn't bring himself to discard them, not yet. Yet, living amidst these tangible reminders was a constant ache. So, he made a silent decision: he would store them out of sight, waiting for a time when the pain might be more bearable.
He sank heavily onto the bed, his gaze drawn to a pale yellow cotton dress draped over a chair. It was adorned with lace that would flutter around her ankles. With a shaky breath, he closed his eyes, a bittersweet smile touching his lips. Memories of her laughter and the feel of her hand in his washed over him with painful clarity. He could almost see her twirling in the dress, her eyes alight with joy.
Buck chuckled softly, the memory bringing a warm flicker to his chest. He recalled the look of bewilderment on her face when he'd outlined their travel plans: a wagon ride to Kansas, followed by a train to Wyoming, and finally a journey to California. "Why on earth can't we take a train straight from Abilene to San Diego?" she had protested, her brow furrowed in confusion.
He had teased her then, a playful smile tugging at his lips. "Well," he'd said, "I'll make sure to send a formal request to the Union Pacific asking for a more direct route in your honor."
Her laughter had been infectious, filling the air with a joy that seemed to blend seamlessly with the excitement of their adventure. The way she had looked at him, a mix of exasperation and affection, was a memory Buck cherished deeply.
He recalled the day he proposed as if it were yesterday. It was late April, and they had just arrived in Cheyenne, Wyoming, leaving Kansas behind. They were waiting for the westbound train to Sacramento, ready to embark on a new adventure. Megan and Isaac, freed from the confines of the train car, giggled as they chased each other across a vast patch of grass.
Buck took her hand, gently slipping it through the crook of his arm as they strolled along the edge of the grassy area where the children played. He had been delaying this moment, searching for the perfect time. Asking her back in Shadow Valley had felt too rushed, but now, with a new chapter on the horizon, it seemed like the right moment to take a leap.
His heart pounded with anticipation. With anyone else, after all they had shared, the question would have come easily. But Halona was different - her feelings often seemed wrapped in a veil of mystery, making him uncertain.
As they walked, Halona's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Look! The train!" she exclaimed, pointing eagerly down the tracks.
Buck smiled, squeezing her arm gently. "It'll be a while yet," he reassured her, his thumb brushing against her hand as he took it in his own. "But we have time."
They paused, watching the children darting across the grass, their laughter carrying on the breeze. Buck turned to her, his eyes soft with affection. "You know, Halona," he began, his voice tinged with emotion, "I've been thinking a lot about our future."
Halona looked up at him, her expression a mix of curiosity and warmth. "Hmmm?"
He took a deep breath, his heart racing. "I mean that I want us to have a life together. I want to share every adventure with you, every quiet moment, and all the laughter in between."
Halona's eyes filled with a tender light. "I want that too."
Buck's smile widened, a wave of relief and joy washing over him. He gently pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. "Halona, will you marry me?"
Her eyes shimmered with emotion as she nestled against him. "Yes, Buck. Of course, yes!"
They stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, the world around them fading away. The laughter of the children, the distant rumble of the approaching train - it all seemed distant and unimportant compared to the promise they had just made.
Buck kissed her forehead softly, savoring the moment. "I can't wait to start this new chapter with you," he murmured.
Halona looked up at him, her eyes bright with happiness. "Neither can I."
Buck clutched the soft dress, burying his face in the fabric. He could practically still smell her on it. Tears streamed down his face, soaking the material. This dress wasn't just clothes; it held the memory of the day he married his best friend, the woman he'd planned his whole future with, his other half.
The train whistle echoed in his memory, taking him back to that happy day. They'd just pulled out of Cheyenne, Wyoming, excited for their new life in California. It had barely been an hour since he proposed when Halona, full of joy, grabbed his hand and suggested getting married right away when they reached Sacramento. The kids, of course, loved the idea, and Buck couldn't say no. A honeymoon would have to wait, but the promise of a lifetime together felt even sweeter.
Buck would never forget how beautiful she looked that day. The simple yellow dress she'd found at a local shop fit her perfectly. Her thick, dark hair, usually worn in braids, flowed freely down her back. She was breathtaking. The quick ceremony in the preacher's backyard was a blur. He barely remembered the vows or even what the preacher said. When asked if he would take Halona as his wife, the words almost stuck in his throat.
But then they kissed. As he looked into her eyes, the overwhelming joy of her becoming his wife washed over him. It was a feeling he'd never forget. For a stolen moment, the world around them faded away. Everything was perfect.
Chapter 19
Manhattan, NYC - 2022
Sydney watched the Dateline interview wind down from her seat off-set. Halona had been back for months, refusing all media requests until finally, her manager working in cahoots with her agent, convinced her to share her story. The hope was to capitalize on her ongoing social media buzz and potentially deter the paparazzi. Sydney nervously tapped her foot as most of the interview focused on Halona's childhood and rise to fame. When it came to the abduction, she stuck to her story: no memories, just waking up in the hospital. The investigation was briefly discussed before they wrapped up.
The interviewer thanked Halona, who offered gracious goodbyes before rejoining Sydney near the exit door leading to the parking lot. Security flanked them on both sides as Sydney opened the car door and tossed her purse in the back.
"I'm starving." Halona mouthed silently to Sydney.
"What do you want for dinner?" Sydney asked, eyeing Halona.
"Mmmm, sushi." The response was almost automatic. It had been years since she'd had any. Her breath caught in her throat as she recalled explaining sushi to Buck and the kids.
The evening air had taken on a crisp chill. A few months had passed since Halona first arrived at the Cross' doorstep. Now, seated around the dining room table, she shared a meal with Buck, Isaac, Megan, and Ms. Fitz. They enjoyed a hearty roasted pie filled with vegetables and chicken. The dish evoked fond memories for Halona, reminiscent of the chicken pot pies her mother used to make.
Isaac took a bite and grinned. "My favorite is steak and potatoes."
Buck nodded in agreement. "Steak is pretty good, but I'm going to have to go with fried chicken."
Megan piped up, "I like pancakes!"
Halona smiled, her heart warming. "Breakfast is my favorite too. But I really love French toast."
Megan's eyes widened with curiosity. "What's French toast?"
"It's like pancakes but made with bread," Halona explained. "You dip it in a mixture of eggs and milk and cook it in a pan."
Megan's eyes sparkled. "Can we have French toast sometime?"
Ms. Fitz scoffed lightly but Halona quickly reassured her. "Absolutely, we'll make it happen."
Halona then excitedly shared some of her favorite foods. "I'd love to introduce you to enchiladas, or tacos! Mmmm, lasagna, pizza, and sushi."
Isaac and Megan looked horrified. "What's sushi?" Isaac asked, his face scrunching up in distaste.
"It's raw fish and seaweed," Halona said.
Isaac shuddered. "Raw fish? Yuck!"
Buck chuckled. "I've eaten raw fish to survive, but I wouldn't be thrilled to eat it for fun."
Halona laughed. "Sushi is a little different than wrangling up a trout in the stream and eating it like Gollum."
The memory faded with Halona chasing the kids around the yard, croaking "My precious" with exaggerated drama. Buck, watching from the porch, nearly doubled over with laughter at the sight. The joy and warmth of the moment lingered in Halona's heart, a cherished snapshot of a time filled with love and laughter.
"Hold on," Sydney said, pulling Halona from her reverie. "Isn't that a no-no when you're pregnant?"
Halona's smile faltered. "Oh shit, that's right!" The weight of her situation hit her hard. Tears welled in her eyes as the reality of raising a child alone overwhelmed her. As soon as she sat down in the car and shut the door, the tears flowed freely.
"It's just a recommendation," Sydney said gently. "We can get sushi if you're craving it."
Sydney slid into the driver's seat, glancing at Halona's sudden emotional shift. One moment upbeat, the next a sobbing mess. Sydney shook her head, silently vowing to never have children. These hormonal swings added a whole new dimension to crazy.
"Are those happy tears or sad tears?" Sydney asked, trying to decipher the situation.
Halona took a shaky breath, wiping her eyes. "I'm alright," she mumbled. "Just hormones, I guess."
"So, you're keeping it?" Sydney asked cautiously as she started the car.
Halona nodded. She caught a flicker of hesitation in Sydney's eyes, mirroring her own internal struggle. Knowing the truth about the abduction - or lack thereof - had erased any questions about the baby's father for Halona. But sharing that truth was impossible.
"You don't," Sydney empathized. "It's still early enough - "
"No, I'm keeping it." Halona cleared her throat, forcing a smile. "At the ultrasound, we got a precise date." She hoped to ease Sydney's concern, but mostly to mask the lie twisting in her gut. "I conceived after I got home."
"That must be a relief," Sydney said, pulling the car towards the house.
"Yeah," Halona offered a weak nod.
"Burgers, Mexican, or Chinese?" Sydney asked.
Halona blinked, momentarily forgetting their conversation in the face of food options. "Hmm?"
"To eat," Sydney reminded her gently.
"Oh," Halona considered her options, a craving for something spicy settling in. "Umm... Pizza, of course. We're in New York."
"It is obligatory." Sydney snickered and stole a glance at Halona, her voice suddenly tinged with concern. "So, you gonna tell me who the baby daddy is?"
Halona's breath hitched at the term. A grimace contorted her face for a fleeting moment before she forced a smile. "It's not like that."
"Who is it?" Sydney pressed, her curiosity piqued.
"He's an old friend," Halona said, searching for a plausible explanation. "You don't know him."
"Halo, I've practically known you my whole life," Sydney countered, rolling her eyes. "There's no friend you have that I don't know."
Halona missed the point entirely, focusing on the gaps in their friendship. "Well, I'm sure there are a few things you don't know about me," she said defensively, thinking of family vacations or sports events Sydney hadn't attended.
"Look," Sydney relented, nudging Halona's arm gently. "You don't have to tell me right now. But you should get your story straight before you start showing. Because the media is going to have a field day with any inconsistencies."
Halona stayed quiet the rest of the drive. Sydney's words hung heavy in the air. She knew Sydney was right. She needed to come up with a believable story for the baby, something that wouldn't fall apart the moment people started asking questions. A knot of worry tightened in her stomach as she realized just how difficult this would be.
Chapter 20
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1871
As the house stood completed, an unexpected stillness settled over it on Christmas Eve. Buck had decorated the tree with care, hanging ornaments one by one, but the holiday cheer felt incomplete. Miguel and Rosa had just left with their newborn daughter, Marciella, their laughter gradually fading into the crisp night air, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Buck joined Isaac and Megan as they eagerly tore into their presents, the crackling of the worn wrapping paper a soft contrast to their joyful squeals. A small smile tugged at his lips, their happiness a fleeting comfort against the ache in his heart. He knew he was merely going through the motions, but he had to keep going for his children. They were missing Halona too - she had been the only mother they'd truly known.
After indulging them with another warm cup of cocoa, he kissed them goodnight and sent them off to bed. Alone once more, Buck settled in front of the crackling fireplace, the soft pop and hiss of the flames a calming presence.
Memories washed over him, vivid and tinged with a bittersweet ache. Last Christmas, they had still been in Texas. Halona had shared stories from her childhood, and Buck had opened up about his own past. That exchange of vulnerability had deepened their bond, making the present emptiness all the more profound.
"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.
He could almost feel her warmth radiating next to him, the scent of pine needles clinging to her hair. The weight of her absence pressed down on him, a dark cloud against the flickering firelight.
The fire slowly died down, leaving behind glowing embers. Buck rose, the weight of the watch a tangible reminder of his past joy and present sorrow. He carefully placed it on the mantle, a small piece of Halona forever a part of him.
Chapter 21
San Francisco, CA – New Years 2023
The grand ballroom shimmered under the glow of massive, sparkling chandeliers. The rich and famous of San Francisco mingled below, their laughter and music filling the air with an infectious energy. Halona stood beside Sydney, her smile bright but lacking warmth, a stark contrast to the revelry around her.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves - laughing, dancing, completely immersed in the evening's festivities. Yet, as Halona scanned the crowd, a deep, empty feeling washed over her. Despite the vibrant atmosphere, she felt detached, as if she were merely an observer rather than a participant in the celebration.
Wherever she looked, A-list celebs were working their fake charm and status bullshit. Halona tried her best, slapping on a polite smile and busting out witty one-liners, but she was eagerly looking for an exit. Across the room, this nauseating scene was going down - Gregory Morgan, the notorious wife-swapping sleazeball, was all over Ashley Vander, who'd just turned legal. Halona wanted to hurl.
The whole night felt like a twisted, messed-up caricature. Every conversation was laced with subtle digs and hidden motives, every laugh a carefully calculated performance. A terrifying thought hit Halona - was this her future? Just endless years of Botox and regret, numbing her loneliness with pricey cocktails and empty praise? The mental image of herself, middle-aged, totally alone sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over her.
"Excuse me," Halona mumbled under her breath.
Sydney caught the shake in her friend's voice. "You okay?" She looked worried.
"Headache," Halona lied, forcing a tiny smile. "Be right back."
Finally, some peace and quiet in the bathroom. Halona locked herself in a stall, the silence instantly calming her overwhelmed senses. Tears welled up, blurring away the sparkling facade of her life. Was this really all there was? The money, the fame, role after role - none of it felt like enough. Where was the deep fulfillment, the human connection she was starving for?
Halona splashed some water on her face, wiping away the tears. That nagging ache just wouldn't quit. Did this glamorous but scrutinized life honestly lead to true happiness? She rejoined Sydney wearing her trademark forced Hollywood smile, but that seed of doubt had been planted.
On the winding drive home, Sydney kept the conversation light with juicy fashion gossip. As they pulled up, a pack of paparazzi materialized out of nowhere, camera flashes blazing.
"Ugh, why won't they just leave me alone?" Halona sighed, the night's weight crashing down.
"Don't worry, Halo…" Sydney said sympathetically. "Some other celeb mess will come along, and they'll forget all about you." Reaching across, she squeezed Halona's hand. "And don't forget, I'm picking you up at 9 on Tuesday for your ultrasound."
"Wouldn't miss it," Halona mumbled gratefully, managing a faint smile through her exhaustion.
The second she was inside, Halona kicked off her torture device heels and peeled out of the suffocating dress, collapsing onto the couch with a long, deep sigh of relief. The gentle, flickering glow of the fireplace warmly lit the room as her eyelids grew heavy, the world around her dissolving into a vivid dream.
It was New Year's Eve, at their home in Texas. The scent of pine needles and cinnamon lingered in the air, remnants of the festive Christmas tree in the corner of the room. The sound of happy exhaustion wafted from upstairs, where Isaac and Megan were sound asleep after a night of sugary treats. Halona curled up on the couch, a soft throw draped over her legs, as Buck emerged from the kitchen with two steaming mugs.
"Hot cocoa?" He asked, his voice warm and inviting.
"Perfect," Halona replied, taking a grateful sip.
They sat in comfortable silence, the crackle of the fireplace filling the void. As the clock struck twelve, an explosion of gunshots erupted in the distance. Buck leaned in, and their lips met in a kiss. The gunshots slowly stopped, but the warmth remained. In that moment, a truth settled deep within Halona's heart. Here, in this quiet frontier, with Buck and his children, was where she truly belonged.
Gratitude welled up in her chest, spilling over as tears welled in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't think I've ever truly thanked you. You took me in, a complete stranger, and opened your home to me."
Buck held her close, a smile playing on his lips. "Turned out alright, didn't it?"
A smile broke through her tears. "I guess it did," she agreed, snuggling closer and wrapping her arms around him.
"This is your home, Halona," he murmured, his voice a low rumble against her ear. "If you want it."
"I do," she breathed against his neck, her voice barely audible. "I want this, Buck. I want us to make this work."
His hand gently tilted her head back, his touch sending shivers down her spine. His fingers teased a slow path down her neck, igniting the familiar burning within her. He drew her closer, their lips meeting in a slow and tender kiss. Lost in the moment, she melted into him, settling in his lap as the kiss deepened. His hands roamed her back, pulling her flush against him. But a flicker of doubt flickered in her eyes, and she pulled back, breathless.
"Maybe we should slow down a little," she managed, her voice a shaky whisper.
Buck saw the lingering apprehension in her gaze. He met her halfway, replacing the heated kiss with a soft, reassuring peck. As she shifted back on the sofa, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she drifted off to sleep. His fingers gently stroked her hair. He knew they had a long road ahead, but for now, the comfort of her presence was enough, hope had flickered with the promise of a future they could build together, one careful step at a time.
Chapter 22
San Francisco, CA –2023
A cold January rain lashed against the windshield, blurring the California coast into a watery mess. Sydney gripped the wheel, navigating the slick roads with practiced ease. Beside her, Halona shifted uncomfortably. Despite the heater blasting, a light chill clung to her skin, mixing with the nervous butterflies fluttering in her stomach. Today was their first prenatal appointment, a chance to finally see the tiny miracle growing inside her.
"Nervous?" Sydney asked, stealing a glance at Halona's profile.
Halona confessed. "A little."
The doctor's office bustled with the usual pre-natal activity. Pregnant women in various stages of their journeys – some glowing, some haggard – filled the waiting room, their laughter and hushed conversations of shared experiences.
"Halona?" A cheerful nurse with bright pink scrubs called out.
Halona stood, her legs a touch wobbly, and Sydney squeezed her hand reassuringly. The nurse led them into a sterile white room filled with the comforting whir of unseen machinery. A woman with a warm smile and kind eyes introduced herself as Dr. Chen.
"Alright, let's get you comfortable," Dr. Chen said as she dimmed the lights slightly
The doctor applied a cool gel to Halona's abdomen and then pressed a transducer against the gel, its smooth surface sending chills down Halona's arms.
The room fell silent, the only sound the rhythmic hum of the machine. Sydney leaned closer, her hand finding Halona's. On the large screen mounted near the ceiling, a mesmerizing display flickered to life.
Grainy black and white images swirled into focus – a dark sac, a flicker of movement within. Halona gasped, her breath catching in her throat. There, nestled amidst the swirling shadows, was a tiny, fluttering form.
"There you go," Dr. Chen said with a warm smile, pointing at the screen. "That's your little one."
Halona squeezed Sydney's hand, her eyes glistening. "It's amazing," she whispered.
Dr. Chen expertly maneuvered the transducer, revealing more details: a tiny head, a budding torso, and the beginnings of limbs. Halona felt a swell of fierce protectiveness rise within her. This fragile, miraculous being was hers.
"Now," Dr. Chen said, her voice breaking the spellbinding silence, "would you like to know the sex of the baby?"
The doctor's question hung in the air, snapping Halona out of the wonder of seeing her baby on the screen. Finding out the sex hadn't been a big concern with everything else she was dealing with. Part of her craved the surprise, the joy of meeting her child face-to-face without any preconceived notions. But another part yearned to know. Already, she envisioned baby names and themed nurseries dancing in her head. It was a delightful internal tug-of-war between embracing the unknown and the comfort of having a plan.
With a deep breath, she looked at Dr. Chen, a wide grin on her face. "Yes, please!"
Dr. Chen chuckled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. She made a few adjustments to the image on the screen, zooming in on a specific area. "Well then," she announced, a playful flourish in her voice, "it looks like you're having a… little girl!"
The room erupted in cheers. Sydney whooped with delight, throwing her arms around Halona in a tight hug. Halona, overcome with a surge of joy, laughed and cried at the same time. A girl. She was having a daughter. The rest of the appointment flew by in a happy blur. Dr. Chen explained everything in detail, answering all her questions with a calm and reassuring manner. As they left the office, Halona felt lighter.
"So," Sydney said, buckling her seatbelt as they pulled onto the sun-drenched road, "baby shopping soon?"
Halona's smile widened. "Mhmm." She agreed, her hand resting on her still mostly flat stomach.
The drive home was filled with a comfortable silence punctuated by bursts of excited chatter. Halona pictured her daughter splashing in tide pools, her tiny hand reaching out to curious crabs and brightly colored fish. As Sydney pulled into her driveway, Halona felt a flutter in her stomach. It wasn't the baby, not yet, but a nervous excitement about starting the next chapter.
"Are you planning on making your guestroom into a nursery?" Sydney asked.
"I was thinking, I might consider moving," Halona mused, resting a hand on her stomach. Her modern and spacious home suddenly felt a little cold. "A place a little quieter more private. Out of the city."
Sydney glanced over at Halona, a thoughtful smile playing on her lips as she nodded. They'd been besties since third grade when Sydney's family moved from Ohio to California. Halona was hands-down the most popular girl in school, while Sydney was a total bookworm, always buried in a book or glued to the computer instead of hanging with friends. After a silly misunderstanding landed them both in the principal's office, an unlikely bond formed, and they'd been inseparable ever since.
As Sydney studied her friend, she couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts that had crept in over the past few months. Sometimes, Halona was her same old self – the vibrant, confident self that Sydney knew and loved. But other times, it was like she was a totally different person. At first, Sydney figured her subdued demeanor was just a trauma response from whatever hell she'd been through during her captivity, but the more she observed, the less it seemed like a typical reaction.
The moodiness, quietness, and secretiveness were all understandable, but Sydney just couldn't wrap her head around Halona's newfound skills in the kitchen. The girl she knew could barely scramble an egg, yet now she moved through the kitchen like a total pro, even making an entire pot-roast the night before last.
As the sun started its descent, painting the city skyline in warm hues, Sydney and Halona finally shut down their laptops, both wiped from the day's emotional roller coaster.
"Ugh, my back!" Sydney stretched, a satisfying crack echoing in the room.
"Hold on a sec," Halona said. "Damian sent some scripts he needs to go over tomorrow. Apparently, Zoom? Needs to be set up."
Sydney chuckled. "It's so weird how much you missed being gone for three years."
"Trust me, I know." Halona smirked and shifted her eyes toward Sydney.
Sydney downloaded the app and patiently walked Halona through the sign-in process. After exchanging hugs and a quick peck on the cheek, Sydney was out the door. Halona sat at the kitchen island and flipped through her text messages. Landing on the one from the private investigator, she quickly opened the image and took a shaky breath.
Halona had hired the P.I. and given him the name Lieutenant Colonel Todd Madison, along with the information that he was in the Marines during the war from 2001-2005. There, staring back at her, was his Marine Corps photo – he looked so young, but it was undoubtedly the same man she had met in that saloon all those years ago.
The file listed him as MIA, and she felt a pang of sorrow for his family, knowing the anguish of their loss and the unbearable uncertainty of not knowing his fate. But she also knew that the information she possessed could do little to alleviate their pain. Her eyes scanned the article and froze when she saw the word daughter. Pausing, she backtracked and read the text again. His daughter was born after he went MIA.
Chills ran down her arms.
For the next few minutes, Halona just let the tears roll down her cheeks. She knew all too well the heartache of losing a husband and she would soon be raising a child without their father. The little girl had never gotten the chance to know her dad.
Halona checked the locks on the doors and, after turning off the lights, climbed the stairs. She closed her eyes and smiled as the electric toothbrush hummed over her teeth, savoring the clean feeling of freshly brushed teeth – a simple pleasure she had missed dearly. She slipped into a pair of silk boxers and a cami, the delicate fabric caressing her skin.
Alone in her room, Halona basked in the cool sheets, reveling in the undeniable perks of being back home – soft bedding, air conditioning, and the blessed convenience of indoor plumbing. As she drifted off to sleep, the daunting realities of parenthood – sleepless nights and endless diaper changes – hadn't fully sunk in yet. For now, all she felt was the overwhelming joy of a tiny miracle growing inside her.
Chapter 23
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1872
Five months had passed since Halona's disappearance, and Buck found himself glancing around the porch of the house he had built. Every little detail was a silent reminder of the future they would never get to share. As he thought back to the first day he had met her, a small smile crept across his face, a fleeting recollection of a bygone happiness.
He remembered taking in Halona's appearance - her long dark hair, bronzed skin, ripped white top, and tight blue jeans. She had looked completely out of place, especially the way she'd awkwardly sat on the horse. He watched as his brother nudged her to dismount, her legs shaky after days on horseback. Halona had reached for the mane and slid down clumsily, her foot searching for ground several inches below.
Joyous shouts had erupted from the house as Isaac, and his sister, Megan, rushed out to greet their uncle.
"Ee taun, you're growing so fast," Red Bear had said, ruffling the boy's hair.
"Me too!" Megan had chimed in, arms up for a hug.
"Yes, you too ee tah," Red Bear had laughed.
Buck shook his head, why on earth was his brother here with a small war party and a stranger? "Who is she?"
"My warriors found her while hunting." Red Bear explained. "They brought her to our village." He had searched for the English words, falling back on his native tongue. "Ahdle koiye daw."
Buck stared blankly, trying to remember what those words meant. It had been many years since he had spoken his native language. Funny? Could be. "What do you mean she's funny?"
"Not funny," Red Bear signed this time and repeated the words. " Ahdle koiye daw."
"Crazy?
Red Bear nodded. "She had black tears."
"Black tears?" Buck's eyebrows shot up.
He had 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, "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 insisted, squeezing his shoulder. "Think of your women and children."
Buck watched as his brother Red Bear and the few men with him turned toward the barn. With a deep exhale, he shifted his attention to their new guest, Halona, who Megan was busily entertaining.
Buck couldn't help but wonder what Halona had been through to end up here, on the doorstep of his humble home. The "black tears" his brother had mentioned still weighed heavily on his mind, a mysterious detail that only fueled his curiosity about this woman's past.
"You gonna introduce me?" He smiled, patting Megan's head.
"Papa, this is Halona," Megan had 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. What on earth was she talking about.
"What's a phone, Papa?" Isaac asked.
"You... don't have a telephone?" She asked.
Buck watched Halona closely, his eyes drawn to the strange object she pulled from her pocket. Her mannerisms were odd, unfamiliar to him, but it was the small metal object that truly held his attention.
"I don't suppose you have a charger then?" Halona asked, her brow furrowed with uncertainty.
Curious, Buck reached out and took the device from her hand. He turned it over, rubbing his calloused fingers across the smooth, glassy surface, utterly perplexed by the strange contraption. Carefully, he handed the device back to Halona, his gaze filled with a mixture of bewilderment and fascination.
As Halona held the phone in her palm, Buck couldn't help but wonder what purpose it served. Was it some kind of tool, a new invention he had yet to discover? The fact that she had inquired about a "charger" only added to his growing intrigue.
"When my brother leaves, I'll take you to town," he assured her. "For now, let's get you cleaned up and some fresh clothes."
"That sounds amazing," Halona had sighed. "I'd kill for a proper shower after a month of creek baths."
"Isaac, show our guest to the... uh... shower," Buck said, the words stumbling a bit as he gestured towards the makeshift bathing area behind the house.
Buck watched from the front porch as the strange woman, Halona, followed his son Isaac to the outdoor shower setup out back. Curiosity piqued, he kept a watchful eye on the scene unfolding.
He saw Halona toss her dirty clothes over the fence post, her brow furrowed in concentration as she examined the unfamiliar apparatus. Suddenly, she reached up and yanked down on the dangling chain, and Buck couldn't help but chuckle as a torrent of icy water came cascading down, drenching the poor woman from head to toe.
Halona's surprised scream pierced the air, and Buck hurried around the back of the house, towel and clean dress in hand, a grin spreading across his face. This city-dwelling stranger was certainly in for a rude awakening when it came to the realities of frontier living.
As Halona scrambled to release the chain and avoid another icy deluge, Buck approached, offering her the much-needed towel and dress.
"It's freezing!" Halona shivered, looking up at him with a plaintive expression. "How do I make it warm?"
Buck simply chuckled and handed her the items, amused by her bewilderment. The concept of warm water on demand was pure insanity.
"What's this?" Halona asked, holding up the bottle of shampoo he had provided.
"Shampoo," Buck replied, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a barely-contained smile.
"Thanks," Halona muttered, her words more a reassurance to herself than a genuine expression of gratitude. Buck could see the uncertainty and slight embarrassment written all over her face as she glanced at his own long, well-kept hair.
"Any chance you've got conditioner?" she ventured, her brow arched in a hopeful question.
Buck couldn't resist the urge to arch one questioning brow in return, the very notion of such a specific hair care product amusing him to no end. "Pretty sure I don't," he replied with a slight shake of his head before turning and heading back to the house, the sound of Halona's frustrated sigh echoing in his ears.
What a strange woman she was, he mused. The way she reacted to the most basic elements of frontier living, from the outdoor shower setup to the lack of modern conveniences, was positively endearing.
As he closed his eyes, lost in the memories, Buck couldn't suppress the small chuckle that bubbled up within him. Halona's bewilderment, her obvious discomfort, and her relentless pursuit of even the most basic creature comforts - it was all so refreshingly different from the stoic, self-reliant lifestyle he and his kin had grown accustomed to.
In a way, her presence was like a breath of fresh air, a reminder that there was a whole world beyond the boundaries of his homestead. And while the cultural divide had proven challenging at times, Buck knew his heart had found its home in her. He would give anything to hear her over-the-top, dramatic flourishes or the astoundingly foul language that spilled from her lips. The stark contrast between her city-dwelling sensibilities and the rustic simplicity of his own life was a constant source of entertainment.
A small voice broke through his thoughts. "Papa?" Megan stood at the doorway, holding out a plate of empanadas like a hesitant peace offering. "Rosa brought these."
Buck forced a smile. "Maybe later, sweetheart. C'mere." He opened his arms, and Megan launched herself into his embrace. "You're growin' up so fast," he murmured, hugging her tight.
"You always say that," she giggled, squeezing him back.
"You'll always be my little girl," Buck said, holding her close.
"Papa?" She looked up at him, her eyes shining with pure, unconditional love.
"What is it, sweetheart?"
"Do you still miss her?" Such a simple question, but it carried the weight of the whole damn world.
Buck gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "Mhmm," he admitted, his voice thick.
"Me too," Megan whispered, a tear rolling down her cheek. "But sometimes," she went on, wiping her nose with the back of her hand, "when I think of her, I don't get so sad no more. I remember all the fun stuff we did, and it makes me happy instead."
Buck felt a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. "We did have a lotta good times, didn't we?" He closed his eyes, picturing Halona's bright, beautiful smile. "Remember when the wagon's wheel broke?" Buck prompted, grinning wide.
"And mama fell right into the creek!" Megan shrieked with laughter, the happy memory chasing those shadows right out of her eyes. The memory flickered to life, vivid and warm…
The wagon lurched violently, jolting Halona from her daydreams. She gripped the makeshift seat, knuckles white. "Buck, what was that?"
"Hold on," he said, already jumping down. "Let me check." He handed her the reins, his eyes calm despite the sudden stop.
"Earthquake?" Isaac poked his curious head out from under the canvas cover.
Halona laughed, a breathy sound. "No, sweetie. More like a giant pothole, I guess. Earthquakes feel a little..." she demonstrated by grabbing the bench and shaking it playfully.
"I can't wait for an earthquake!" Megan scrambled onto Halona's lap.
"Looks like a wheel came loose." Just then, Buck emerged from under the wagon, swearing under his breath. "I'll be back soon."
""What? Panic spiked in Halona's voice. "Where are you going?"
"To the town we passed," Buck reassured, unbuckling a lead horse. "It should be a quick fix, a couple of bearings."
"Are you high?" Halona's voice rose slightly. "Leaving us here in the middle of nowhere?"
Buck chuckled at her dramatics. "Hey, relax. It's a small town, just up the road. I'll be back before you know it."
"Freddy F'ing Krueger could be in those bushes over there just waiting until you leave!" Halona threw her arms up.
Megan giggled, clearly enjoying the unfolding drama. "Who's that?"
Buck ignored the question, trying to calm her. Megan's laughter grew louder as Halona ranted and paced back and forth. Buck reached out to soothe her, but she stormed past him towards the creek. Her anger was short-lived when she misjudged the muddy bank, she slipped and landed with a splash in the murky water. Isaac and Megan erupted in laughter, while Buck rushed to help her out, mud clinging to her clothes.
"This is worse than a one-way Southwest flight…" Halona grumbled, emerging bedraggled from the creek. "No… no this… this is like a Spirit flight!"
Buck took her in his arms, his voice firm yet gentle. "Darlin', I need to get that wheel fixed and I need you to stay calm. Issac and Megan need you."
Halona met his gaze, her earlier panic replaced by a quiet resolve. She nodded, then surprised him by pulling him into a tight hug.
"I can handle this," she whispered fiercely.
Buck smiled, handing her a pistol hidden beneath the seat. "Good. Now, take the rifle too."
"Don't worry, Mama," Megan piped up, her earlier fear forgotten. "I'm not scared."
"Me neither." Isaac puffed out his chest. "And I know how to shoot!"
Halona forced a smile, her bravado masking a knot of worry in her stomach. "We'll be fine," she declared, her voice stronger than she felt.
"She was covered in mud for several days," Megan giggled, her eyes sparkling with the memory.
Buck chuckled, "Yeah, she wasn't too happy about that," he agreed, his mind wandering back to that moment. He could still see Halona, drenched in mud.
"I'll never forget the look on her face when you rode up through, Papa," Megan said, her voice softening with affection.
"Oh yeah?" Buck's eyes twinkled as he looked down at his daughter. There was that same determination, the same fierce loyalty that had drawn him to Halona in the first place.
"When I get older, I want to be just like her," Megan continued, tilting her head up to meet her father's gaze. Her smile was wide, full of the kind of admiration that only a child could have.
"You do?" Buck smiled warmly at her, feeling a mix of pride and longing swell in his chest.
"Yeah," Megan nodded earnestly. "And I want to marry a man just like you, Papa."
Buck's heart skipped a beat, touched by her innocent declaration. "Thanks, sweetheart," he said, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled her into a gentle hug, kissing the top of her head. "You've got a big heart, just like your mom."
Megan beamed up at him, her small arms wrapped tightly around his waist.
Buck laughed softly, ruffling her hair. "You're too sweet for your own good, you know that?" He teased, his heart feeling a little lighter than it had all night. Standing up, he stretched, the weight of the day easing just a bit. "I think it's about time for those empanadas. What do you think?"
Megan grinned, squeezing his hand as they walked toward the kitchen together. The memory of Halona was still fresh in their minds, but in moments like these, it felt less like a burden and more like a warm blanket, wrapping them in comfort and love. The ache in Buck's heart was still there, but it was softened by the sweetness of his daughter's laughter and the promise of more memories to come.
Chapter 24
San Francisco, CA - 2022
The constant nausea had finally disappeared, replaced by nights that stretched on endlessly. Halona wasn't sure which was worse. In comfy sweat shorts and a giant sweatshirt, she flipped through channels with a remote in one hand and giant dill pickle and grilled cheese sandwich in the other.
A small bump now rounded her lower belly, a sign that hadn't been there in January. A shiver ran across her shoulders and down her arms, she reached for the remote to turn up the gas fireplace. She smiled softly as she remembered Buck's endless attempts to teach her how to build a fire. It remained a skill that she never did grasp.
Setting the empty plate on the coffee table, she grabbed a blanket and pillow. Sleep had been hard to come by for weeks. Curling up on the couch, she cranked up the TV volume, the mindless chatter drowning out the thoughts racing in her head.
"I feel you there, little one," she whispered, a hand resting on her belly. "Your father…" Her voice trailed off, a dull ache in her chest. "He would've loved you so much. I promise to tell you everything about him, and about your brother and sister. So you'll know them, even if it's just through stories."
With a sigh, she closed her eyes and pulled the blanket tighter. Memories of their last night together flickered in her mind, a bittersweet slideshow. A flicker of relief warmed her – at least he knew how much he meant to her. As the memories faded and sleep finally claimed her, a single tear rolled down her cheek.
"I put Megan to bed," Halona said as she entered their bedroom and kicked off her slippers.
Buck smiled as she closed the door. "She stalls bedtime to get extra snuggles with you."
"Honestly," Halona said, unbuttoning her dress and carefully slipping out of it, "It's one of my favorite times. She's so affectionate and sweet."
"For such a... oh yeah, 'badass bitch' you say you are," he said, trying to recall the phrase she used the day before.
"Still laughing about that, huh?" Halona giggled, pulling off her chemise and pantalets.
"Can you blame me?" Buck chuckled. "Not exactly an everyday occurrence."
"Maybe not for you, but it is back home," Halona said.
"Well, for being such a badass, you certainly let a little seven-year-old walk all over you."
"I know," she smiled, reaching for her nightdress.
Buck's hand gently stopped hers. "No, don't bother with that tonight."
Her smile widened with a playful arch of an eyebrow. "Oh really, cowboy? See something you like?"
His gaze warmed. "Everything," he murmured, his eyes trailing over her.
"Good answer," she whispered, crawling into bed beside him. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer.
"It's so peaceful," he murmured, his fingers gently stroking her hair.
"The sound of the ocean is like a lullaby," she sighed, closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.
A beat of comfortable silence followed, then he spoke softly. "Are you happy here?"
She turned to him, her eyes shimmering. "I'm happy," she whispered, cupping his face and pulling him into a kiss. "With you, with the kids... this is everything."
He traced a finger down her arm, a question lingering in his gaze. "Do you ever miss your home?"
"This is my home now," she murmured against his lips, her voice a soft caress. "With you."
"You know I'm building our new house with five bedrooms," Buck said, a playful glint in his eyes.
She hummed, leaning closer and nuzzling his neck.
"That's two more than we need right now," he continued, his voice dropping a touch.
A knowing smile played on her lips. "Always thinking ahead,"
He grinned, gently capturing her hands. "Maybe. We could always fill them up eventually if you're interested."
Her smile softened. "We already have a full house," she whispered, her eyes sparkling.
"True," he conceded, his gaze lingering on her face. "But there's always room for more,"
Having never discussed children before, Buck traced her eyebrows, a silent question hanging in the air. He knew she adored Isaac and Megan, but did her love extend to wanting a child of their own?
She met his gaze, a thoughtful frown creasing her forehead. "Honestly, I hadn't thought much about it. With Isaac and Megan, it felt like I already had children, you know?"
"And they're lucky to have you," he said, his voice warm. He leaned in, placing a kiss on her cheek, then her nose, before lingering softly on her lips. "But what about you? Do you want more children."
A beat of silence followed, then a quiet confession. "Yes," she admitted, the realization settling over her. "Seeing you with the kids... you are such a good father. Of course I want children with you."
"But?" He observed, his eyes searching hers, he saw the look in her eyes. Hesitation, possibly fear.
"I'm afraid," she whispered.
"You are a natural mother with Isaac and Megan, what are you afraid of?" Buck asked, his voice reassuring and tender.
"Not the raising part, it's the birthing part." She took a deep breath.
Sweetheart, I once delivered a baby in a wagon, out on the open prairie." His smile held a "There's nothing more natural than a woman giving birth."
"But childbirth can be risky you know that." She admitted softly, catching a fleeting glimpse of worry across his face. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean - "
"No need to apologize," he reassured her with a gentle kiss. "Things can happen, but you are young, healthy, sturdy… "
"Sturdy?" She laughed, surprised. "Did you just describe me like a horse?"
"Maybe not the best way to put it," he admitted with a chuckle. "But you get the idea, right?"
"Oh, you say the sweetest things baby," she teased, her laughter subsiding into a playful smile. "So, it was my, uh, strong birthin' hips that stole your heart?"
Buck's eyebrow quirked up and he pulled her closer, his grip firm on her hips. Their lips met in a slow, fiery kiss that left them both breathless. As she trailed her nails down his chest, she couldn't help but think about the possibility of getting pregnant if they weren't careful.
"You know," she whispered, "if I do get pregnant, I'll probably put on at least forty pounds."
Buck chuckled, sliding his hands to grab her backside. "I happen to like a little more meat on these bones," he said with a squeeze.
With a playful grin, she climbed onto him and straddled his hips, feeling the heat of his body against hers. She relished in the weight of his full length pressing into her, igniting the fire within. She could feel every inch of him beneath her, throbbing with desire and anticipation. As she leaned in closer, their breaths mingled and their bodies moved in perfect sync. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as she basked in the pleasure of this moment. She knew there was a chance of pregnancy each time they made love, but so far they had been lucky.
"Keep your hands there," she commanded playfully as she placed his hands back on her hips.
"Yes ma'am." Buck moaned, his hands gripping her hips tightly as she slowly moved against him.
"You know," She began, "I worked so hard for this body. Countless hours in the gym. What will happen when I get stretch marks and saggy tits?"
"And you will always be beautiful to me, no matter how it changes." Buck breathed heavily, his own body trembling with need. "No one is seeing this beautiful body but me."
Halona's grip on the headboard tightened as she the heat rising. With each thrust of their bodies, she felt herself on the edge. Just as she neared her climax, Buck flipped her onto her back with a growl and plunged into her with an intensity that took her breath away, every inch of him filling her completely.
"You need to tell me," Buck struggled to whisper between labored breaths. "If you want me to stop - "
But before he could even finish his sentence, Halona arched into him and squeezed her thighs tightly around his waist. She could feel her legs beginning to shake as they continued. Buck's powerful thrusts sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through her entire body, leaving her breathless and desperate for more.
"Don't stop," she moaned.
"Are you sure?" Buck's voice was low and strained as he held back his release, barely.
"Yes…" She gasped. "Oh fuck - "
Buck put his hand to her mouth and with a final, crushing plunge, Buck released within her, his body shuddering in response to the intensity.
For a long moment, they lay there, entwined and spent, reveling in the afterglow of their passion. Halona traced the sweat-damped hair from his forehead and then rolled off the bed. Padding across the cool wooden floor she reached the wash basin and shot him an 'I told you so' look.
"And this is why," She wet a cloth and ran it over her body wiping the moisture from her skin. "Indoor plumbing."
"Honestly," Buck chuckled and leaned in for a kiss on her neck. "I like you all sweaty."
"You're gonna like me a whole lot better when we have running water." She teased with a playful smile.
"How so?" he asked, intrigued.
"You'll find out," she winked, tossing the cloth aside and crawling back into bed. "Just a little motivation to get that house built faster, cowboy."
He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. "Anything for you."
"I love you, Buck." She murmured, leaning into his embrace.
Chapter 25
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona tapped her nails impatiently on the counter as her agent, Miles, lectured her about missing out on talk show appearances.
"You need to capitalize on the free publicity you have garnered from going missing. You can't just throw this opportunity away."
"I did Dateline. There's nothing left to say," Halona muttered, rolling her eyes at her friend Sydney across the room. Secretly, she mouthed, "He's on speakerphone."
"Halona - "
"I don't remember anything, the FBI has all but told me it's a cold case. It's not something I want to keep rehashing. I want to move on."
"I would be remiss if I didn't tell you that you are making a huge mistake," Miles warned.
"I appreciate it," Halona sighed. "But my focus is on myself and the baby."
"Fine, but we can still get you on some late-night shows, you being pregnant is a great - "
"My baby is not a publicity stunt." Halona said calmly.
"The Oscars are coming up," Miles pressed.
"Three years have passed," Halona remarked with a hint of sarcasm. "I'm not exactly holding out for an Oscar."
"You should go for visibility's sake! Out of sight, out of mind," Miles insisted. "Why are we even arguing?"
"Beats me," Halona grumbled. "I said I'm not ready - "
"Are you planning to disappear until you give birth?"
Halona glared. "This conversation is over, and possibly consider whether or not I will be finding another agent, Miles." She hung up and tossed the phone on the counter.
"Wow, he's intense today," Sydney said, wide-eyed.
"I'm trying to remind myself," Halona said, trying to stay calm. "He's just doing his job."
"At least you're not puking every ten minutes anymore," Sydney chuckled.
"Yeah thankfully that is over with." Halona groaned. "I'd do some shady shit for some coffee right now."
"Last week you complained about insomnia!"
"Now I'm fuckin' sleepy," Halona retorted. "And craving Starbucks."
"Pregnancy woes," Sydney teased. "So..." she trailed off, eyeing Halona expectantly.
"What?" Halona braced herself, knowing Sydney was about to ask something she wouldn't like.
"The Oscars are next month, remember?" Sydney reminded her.
"I know," Halona sighed, taking a sip of water.
"Going?"
"Probably. Knowing Miles, he's pressuring Damian right now, and won't stop until I agree."
Sydney mimicked Miles' voice, "You can't hide forever, Halo. Not until that little... crib lizard pops out!"
Halona choked on her water. "Crib lizard? Really?"
"Yep," Sydney grinned, grabbing her phone to take notes. "Valentino or Dior?"
"Hold on, I need to talk to Damian about that tomorrow," Halona interjected.
"About what?"
"Dior might reinstate my contract."
"Excellent!" Sydney nodded, scribbling furiously.
Halona drifted to the window, gazing at the sailboats dancing on the bay. Her heart ached for the normalcy of Buck, Isaac, and Megan – the laughter, the hugs, the feeling of safety and love.
"Yo!" Sydney snapped her fingers.
"What?" Halona raised an eyebrow.
"Think the baby's messing with your hearing? I've called your name five times."
Halona laughed. "Maybe twice."
"Okay, twice," Sydney conceded. "Solo mission to the Oscars, or you wanna call a friend?"
"It's not Who Wants to Be a Millionaire, Sydney," Halona rolled her eyes.
"Hey, that show's been cancelled, boomer," Sydney teased.
"Aren't you older than me?" Halona countered with a wink.
"Just thought you might call the... baby daddy," Sydney suggested tentatively.
"Please, don't call him that." Halona frowned. "He's not like that."
"Sorry," Sydney apologized, taking Halona's hand. "I know it's sensitive, but people will ask. Privacy and the public don't exactly mix."
Halona sighed. "I know. It's just complicated, and I haven't figured out how to handle it yet."
"Well, you better start thinking," Sydney said, glancing down at Halona's belly.
Halona nodded, a faint smile playing on her lips. Sydney was right. She needed a story for the baby's father, but the truth was a secret she couldn't share.
Chapter 26
San Juan Capistrano, CA - 1872
Buck had found the watch a few weeks after Halona had vanished. It was damaged, the crystal face shattered, and the hinge bent beyond repair. He'd tucked it away in his desk, a painful reminder he couldn't bear to part with.
Megan watched eagerly as her father opened the small box she handed him. "You like it, Papa?" she asked, her grin wide with anticipation.
Buck's breath hitched as he lifted the lid. Inside, nestled in velvet, was that same silver pocket watch, but now it looked as good as new.
"We didn't mean to snoop, Pa," Isaac explained quickly. "I was looking for your knife and found it in your desk."
Buck swallowed hard, emotions welling up. "It's alright," he managed, ruffling Isaac's hair and pulling him into a hug.
"It was broken," Megan added, shrugging as if it were no big deal.
"We took it to the jeweler in town," Isaac continued, his smile growing. "Rosa took us."
"A very thoughtful gift," Buck choked out, wrapping his arms around Megan, hugging her tightly. He hadn't dared to carry the watch, fearing it would break again. Instead, he'd hidden it away, the damaged keepsake a constant, silent presence in his desk drawer.
"Open it, Pa," Isaac urged.
With trembling fingers, Buck flipped open the silver casing. The crystal was flawless now, a pristine mirror reflecting the passage of time. Life, however, wasn't so easily restored.
"We got you a new chain too!" Megan pointed out excitedly. "Now you can wear it."
"Thank you both, very much," Buck said, his voice thick with gratitude. He kissed them each on the cheek, fighting to keep his emotions in check. "You are the best kids a dad could ask for."
"We made a cake too!" Megan exclaimed, grabbing his hand and pulling him toward the kitchen. "Well, we helped make it. Rosa did most of it."
The lopsided chocolate cake brought a genuine smile to Buck's face. "This is beautiful."
"Happy birthday, Papa!" Isaac and Megan chorused, their faces beaming with pride.
Buck settled down at the table, savoring the rich chocolate flavor of the cake as he listened to his children chatter about school and friends. Their joyful conversation was the perfect birthday gift, allowing them all to stay up an extra hour playing games.
Later, as the night wound down, Buck indulged Megan in their nightly ritual. Though she was getting older, she still loved bedtime stories. Tucking her in, he read "The Sleeping Beauty in the Woods" for what felt like the hundredth time, his hand gently stroking her soft brown hair. By the time he finished, her eyelids were drooping.
"I love you, sweet girl," he whispered, leaning in to kiss her forehead.
"Love you too, Papa," she mumbled sleepily, wrapping her arms around his neck for a quick kiss. "Happy birthday."
"Thank you, sweetheart," he said softly, kissing her cheek one last time.
Knowing Isaac might find a hug and kiss a bit too much at his age, Buck simply peeked into his son's room. "Goodnight, Isaac," he whispered.
"Night, Pa," Isaac replied, his voice already heavy with sleep.
Buck closed the door to his bedroom, a shiver running down his spine despite the warm California night. He traced the chill to a drafty window and quickly secured the latches, shutting it firmly. Leaning against the cool glass, he gazed out at the moonlit ocean below.
Even after all these months in the house he'd built, a small part of him still clung to the hope that she might return. The expansive windows flanking the French doors leading to the balcony were a testament to that hope. She had loved the ocean, and he had envisioned them sharing the view, stealing quiet moments together on the balcony during lazy summer evenings.
His hand drifted into his pocket, retrieving the watch his children had so lovingly repaired. A sentimental smile played on his lips as he traced the smooth metal with his fingers. He hadn't been able to bring himself to fix it after she'd broken it, the memory of her outburst, and the reason behind it, still a mystery that haunted him.
With a sigh, he placed the watch on the bed as he undressed, then climbed in, propping himself up with two pillows. The rhythmic dance of the dark waves captivated him, the moonlight painting a shimmering path across the water. As he drifted off to sleep, the watch clutched tightly in his hand, it became a symbol of both cherished memories and the haunting emptiness left by her absence.
Chapter 27
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona walked to the freezer first, grabbing a pint of Häagen-Dazs butter pecan. With the ice cream in hand, she sank into the couch, mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she spooned the cold dessert into her mouth. The latest headlines flashed across the screen, but she barely registered them, her thoughts drifting to the family she had left behind.
Her hand instinctively rested on her growing belly, and she felt a pang of sorrow mixed with longing. She missed Buck and the kids more than she could put into words. How was she supposed to raise their child on her own, to make sure their little girl knew where she came from and how much her father would have loved her?
Her mind drifted back to a cherished memory, it had been Buck's birthday in Shadow Valley, and she'd wanted to make it special. She had discovered early on that Buck had a soft spot for ice cream, so months before the day, she'd secretly ordered a hand-cranked ice cream maker, eager to surprise him.
The day of the party Halona, Isaac, and Megan had taken turns cranking the bucket, their laughter echoing through the kitchen as they worked together to create the frozen treat. She could still hear their voices, the way Megan had squealed with delight when the ice cream began to thicken, and how Isaac had tried to sneak a taste before it was ready.
Once the ice cream was safely chilling in the icebox, Halona had set about preparing a feast. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, biscuits - everything Buck loved. The meal had been a labor of love, but it was worth every minute when she saw the look of pure joy on Buck's face as he took his first bite of the homemade ice cream. His eyes had lit up, the corners of his lips turning up in that familiar, crooked grin.
As they had sat around the table Halona had felt a deep sense of contentment wash over her. This was her family now, these people she had grown to cherish more than she ever thought possible. She knew then that every time she tasted ice cream, she would be transported back to that moment, to that precious memory etched in her heart.
A shuddering breath escaped her as she wiped away her tears, a sentimental smile playing on her lips. She knew she would never again enjoy the simple pleasure of ice cream without remembering the hard work, the laughter, and the tender moments that had gone into its creation.
Leaning back on the couch, Halona let her hands rest on her belly, feeling the faint flutter of life within. The future was uncertain, but she knew that the love and memories she shared with Buck would forever be a part of her. She prayed she would stay strong and raise their child in a way that would make him proud of her.
Chapter 28
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Sunlight filtered through the clouds, warming Halona's skin as she jogged along the shoreline. Her crop top and leggings hugged her toned frame, each step on the sand creating a comforting rhythm. Her high ponytail swayed in time with her strides, while the upbeat music in her earbuds matched the determined set of her jaw.
As she ran, Halona's gaze caught on a group of kids up ahead, busy with an elaborate sandcastle. The sight tugged at her heart, stirring memories of Megan and Isaac. She had dreamed of teaching them to swim, showing them the wonders of tide pools, introducing them to the tiny crabs and sea life that thrived just beyond the shore. But that life felt distant now.
By the time she reached the steps to her home, the emotions she'd been holding back all morning finally broke free. Tears welled up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks as she fumbled with the key, the weight of her grief almost too heavy to bear. But she knew she had to stay strong - for the tiny life growing inside her.
Once inside, Halona headed straight for the kitchen, setting her laptop on the counter. She sat down, her hands resting on the cool surface as she stared at the screen. Baby names. It seemed like such a simple task, but the significance of it felt overwhelming.
She had already decided on Rosemary for the first name, but what about a middle name? Had Buck ever mentioned his mother's name? She racked her brain, trying to recall, but the memory stayed just out of reach.
With a sigh, Halona began typing, her fingers moving automatically as she scrolled through endless lists of names. She was determined to find the perfect one - something that would honor the memory of the family they had been. After what felt like hours, she sat back, her hand resting gently on her slightly growing belly.
"Rosemary," she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips as she thought of her own mother. She wished her mom were here now, not just for her own comfort, but because she knew how thrilled her mother would've been at the thought of a grandchild.
As the sun began to set, Halona found herself drawn to the window, her gaze fixed on the vast ocean. The sea had always been her refuge, a place where she could clear her mind and find some peace. But in those quiet moments, when the waves lulled her into a false sense of calm, the memories would rush back - the laughter, the joy, the family she once had and now seemed so far away.
She closed her eyes, letting the salty breeze brush against her face. She could almost hear Megan's giggles, the sound of Isaac's small footsteps racing across the sand. And then there was Buck - her rock, her partner, the man who had loved her without question.
The shrill ring of her phone shattered the silence, pulling Halona out of her thoughts. She fumbled for her phone, answering with a curious tone. "Hello?"
"Halona? Is that really you?" The voice on the other end was familiar, though unexpected.
Halona's eyes widened in recognition. "Nick Morgan?"
"The one and only," Nick replied, relief clear in his voice. "I saw the news that you were alive and well. I wanted to give you some space, but I couldn't let more time pass without reaching out."
A mix of emotions surged within Halona, the weight of the past pressing on her chest. "Nick, it's really good to hear from you. How have you been?"
"Getting by," he said with a soft chuckle. "Actually, I got married a couple of years ago, and we just had a baby girl."
"That's wonderful, Nick. I'm so happy for you."
A brief pause followed, thick with unspoken memories. "And you, Halona? How have you been holding up?"
Her hand instinctively went to her belly. "It's been…a journey," she admitted, her voice soft and tinged with sadness. "But I'm trying to move forward." She trailed off, the words catching in her throat.
Nick's voice softened. "I can't even imagine what you've been through, but if there's anything I can do, anything at all, just let me know."
Halona nodded, even though he couldn't see her. "Thank you, Nick. That really means a lot."
"It was really good to hear your voice, Halona. I'm glad you're doing okay."
"You too, take care of yourself."
"You too, Halona. Goodbye."
"Goodbye, Nick."
As she hung up, Halona let out a deep breath, feeling a genuine sense of happiness for him. She knew how much being part of a loving family could change a person, and she sincerely hoped the best for him.
Chapter 29
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona took a deep breath as she stepped into the dental clinic. It had been years since her last visit, and she couldn't help the small wave of anxiety that washed over her. The receptionist greeted her warmly, and Halona offered a polite smile before settling into a plush waiting room chair. Her thoughts began to drift, pulling her back to memories of Shadow Valley.
"Halona?" a voice called, pulling her from her reverie. She looked up to see a kind-faced hygienist standing in the doorway. "The doctor is ready for you."
She followed the hygienist into the treatment room, taking in the pristine equipment and the soothing scent of mint. The chair was as uncomfortable as she remembered, and her heart pounded as the hygienist began the cleaning.
"So, Halona, it's been a while since your last visit," the hygienist said, her tools scraping gently against Halona's teeth. "Your teeth are in surprisingly good condition, considering."
Halona chuckled, though it came out dry. "You don't know the half of it," she murmured, her mind drifting back to Shadow Valley. The memory was vivid - she could almost feel the gritty texture of the chalky powder they used as toothpaste, the rough bristles of a worn toothbrush scratching her gums. Worse yet, there had been only one toothbrush for the whole family. It had taken months, but she finally convinced Buck that they all needed their own.
The hygienist's voice brought her back to the present. "Alright, Halona, we're all done with the cleaning. Now, let's take a look at that cavity."
Halona nodded, her heart still racing from the memories. The dentist entered the room with a warm smile.
"Hello, Halona. Let's see what we're dealing with here," he said, examining her teeth.
After a brief check, the dentist informed her that the cavity was small and could be easily filled. "We'll get that taken care of, and then we'll do a quick whitening treatment. Your teeth are in great shape, considering it's been a while since your last visit," he added, echoing the hygienist.
Halona couldn't help but laugh. "Yeah, you really have no idea," she said, leaning back in the chair as the dentist began the filling process.
While Halona was stuck in the chair, Sydney took advantage of the moment, tapping something quickly into her phone. "Lucinda from Dior called about the Oscars gown," she said, trying to keep the conversation light.
Halona scowled and mumbled something unintelligible against the dentist's fingers.
Sydney's face brightened. "You have an appointment next week to finalize the details. Damian thinks it's a good idea for you to be there, you know, to reduce the paparazzi frenzy outside your house," she added with a hint of concern.
Halona sighed, knowing he was right but dreading the idea. "I'd much rather just stay home and watch the Oscars on TV," she managed to mumble before spitting into the cup.
Sydney chuckled. "I know, but it's all part of the job, right? And who knows, maybe it'll be fun. You might even enjoy it," she said, giving Halona's hand a reassuring squeeze.
Halona offered a wry smile. "We'll see," she muttered, settling back into the chair.
"Alright, the filling is all done. Now, let's get those teeth looking their best with a whitening treatment," the dentist said, adjusting the tray in her mouth.
Halona, struggling to speak with the tray in place, attempted to start a conversation. "Hey, Syd, did I tell you Nick called me last night?" she asked, her words slightly garbled.
Sydney's eyebrows shot up. "I'm surprised he hadn't called sooner. How's he doing?"
Halona shrugged. "He seems good. Married now, with a kid. I guess you already knew that, though."
"Yeah," Sydney nodded. "He's really changed since you went missing. He's sober now, even hired a private investigator to look into your disappearance," she said, her voice trailing off.
Halona's mouth dropped open in surprise, almost dislodging the tray.
Sydney continued, "You know, he wrote a song about you. It's called 'Halo,'" she said with a sad smile.
Halona's eyes widened in disbelief. "You're kidding," she said, shaking her head.
Chapter 30
San Francisco, CA - 2022
Halona sat alone in her living room, her fingers trembling slightly as they hovered over the Spotify controls. The familiar knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach, but she took a deep breath and pressed play. The soft, ethereal piano melody washed over her, the haunting vocals immediately pulling her in. She held her breath, anticipation tightening her chest.
"In the heavens, she soared so high, a beacon of hope, against the sky. But I, a mortal, lost in the night, descended into darkness…"
The lyrics seemed to echo her own thoughts, resonating in a way she hadn't expected. The haunting melody and gentle guitar accompaniment transported her back in time, stirring memories of laughter, love, and the heartbreak that followed. Nick's voice, raw and emotional, seemed almost unrecognizable - a reflection of a man she didn't know anymore. For his sake, she was glad.
As the chorus hit, the powerful guitar riffs sent a shiver down her spine. "She was a star, shining so bright, a Halo guiding my path, through the darkest night. A wrong step, a wrong path, chose the wrong way, and strayed from the light."
Each word struck her with the force of realization. She wasn't the same person she had been three years ago. Had she stayed in 2019, what would her life be like now? The thought paralyzed her. Would she have become one of those vapid Hollywood elites, a zombie moving through life without purpose? She had worked so hard to follow the so-called rules of time travel she'd seen in movies - lay low, don't mess with the natural events of the past, or you risk altering the future beyond repair. But had she altered her own future? How much had she affected Buck and the children? Their lives had never been the same after she appeared in their world.
Her mind spiraled, imagining the ripples of her actions spreading like waves in a pond, each one affecting another. Did it matter at all? Was she just a speck of sand in the universe, insignificant in the grand scheme of things? Yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that everything had been changed, irrevocably.
She thought of Nick again. He wasn't the wreck of a man she once knew. She had seen potential in him, and, like always, she had tried to fix him. But they were like gasoline and fire, never meant to last. She had been independent, strong, raised with every advantage. She hadn't squandered her time, priding herself on her education, her career. Like many of her generation, she had run from tradition, from domestic life, thinking that a man wasn't necessary, that it would be giving up her freedom.
But as she listened to the song, memories of her time with Buck flooded back. He had been so different from anyone she'd ever known. Their relationship was passionate, more intense than anything she'd ever experienced, yet grounded in a way that made her feel secure. Submitting to a man like Buck wasn't subservient; it was liberating. He respected her mind, her thoughts, and encouraged her to thrive. He grounded her when she lost focus, something she had come to appreciate more and more.
She remembered the day he'd tossed her belongings into the fire. Back then, she was livid, unable to grasp why he did it. But now, she understood - everything Buck did was for the kids and for her benefit and protection. Deep down, she realized there would never be another person she could connect with so deeply.
The second verse of the song intensified, the rhythmic guitar work and dramatic vocals adding to the emotional depth. "I've traded grace for sinful desire, a prisoner of darkness, consumed by fire. Haunted by memories, of her radiant light, lost in the shadows…"
Halona felt a pang of sorrow as the song faded. Nick had changed, and for that, she was genuinely happy. He had found his way, freed from the demons that once haunted him. But in his evolution, she realized how much she had also changed, how far she had come from the woman she once was.
She knew now that if she had stayed in 2019, she would have continued to search for something she didn't even know she was missing. It wasn't more freedom or money she needed. It was the connection, the deep, unbreakable bond she had found with Buck and the children. They had given her a purpose, a sense of belonging that she had never felt before.
As the last notes of the song faded into silence, Halona sat back, her heart heavy yet full of clarity. She was no longer the woman who had left 2019. She had found something far more valuable than anything Hollywood could offer - she had found herself.
Chapter 31
San Francisco, CA - 2022
The warm light from the lamp cast a soft glow over Buck as he sat at his desk, sifting through a stack of papers. The familiar scent of aged parchment mixed with the faint aroma of the pipe tobacco he had smoked earlier. As Buck reviewed the documents, his brow furrowed with the weight of responsibility that came with running the farm alone.
The steady ticking of the pocket watch on the corner of his desk drew his attention. Reaching out to adjust the hands, the watch slipped from his grasp, clattering to the floor. Buck cursed quietly and quickly retrieved it, relieved to find it unharmed. Cradling the watch in his hand, he wound the key a few clicks, the rhythmic ticking bringing him a small measure of calm. With a wistful smile, he tucked the watch into the inner pocket of his vest.
After gathering the scattered papers, he organized them hastily, casting one last glance around the room before extinguishing the lamp and heading upstairs to his bedroom. The cool, salty breeze from the nearby ocean drifted through the open balcony doors, filling the room with the musty scent of sea spray, mixed with wet driftwood and seaweed.
As he made his way to his bedroom, Buck felt the weight of his grief settle heavily on his shoulders. He remembered the day they first saw the ocean together, how Halona's eyes lit up with wonder and delight. She had been so full of life, her energy contagious as they explored the shoreline with the children, chasing seagulls and the waves.
Closing his eyes, Buck could almost see her face - the gentle curve of her smile, the spark of mischief in her eyes. Those moments were etched in his memory, a comfort he held onto in her absence.
Buck crossed to the balcony, gazing out at the vast ocean. The crashing of the waves against the shore had a calming effect, and he took a deep breath, letting the salty air fill his lungs. The horizon, where the sky met the sea, was a sight that once filled him with wonder. Now, it symbolized the life he and Halona had shared and the future he must face alone.
The weight of his grief threatened to consume him, but Buck steadied himself, determined to honor her memory by living each day fully. With a deep breath, he returned to bed, his weary body finally surrendering to sleep. As he drifted off, the ticking of the pocket watch echoed in his mind.
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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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