Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
The applause rolled over Megan in waves. She pressed her hands to her mouth, tears hot against her palms as twenty-four children bowed with the pride they had earned.
Eliza caught her arm. “You did it.”
Tessa swiped at her eyes. “They loved it.”
Parents surged toward the stage. Camera flashes cut white across the air. Mrs. Yancy gripped Megan’s hand. “That was beautiful. My grandson was so wonderful.”
“Thank you.”
More hands. More smiles. A few tight mouths from Hillary’s friends, already tallying political fallout, but most eyes glimmered with emotion.
Near the exit, Braxton lingered, phone in hand, his expression unreadable. When he caught her glance, he nodded and slipped out.
The board meeting would come. The fallout would come. But now, the whole town knew the truth.
Costumes came off. Beards packed away. Jenna ran up, cheeks flushed. “Did we do okay?”
“You were perfect.” Megan pulled her into a hug. “Every single one of you.”
Wyatt appeared beside Eliza. “We’re heading to the bakery to celebrate. You and Holden should come.”
“That sounds perfect. Let me find him.”
“We’ll see you there." Eliza gave a jaunty wave.
Volunteers stacked chairs. The refreshment table cleared. One by one, her friends drifted out, assuming she and Holden would follow when they were ready.
The gym quieted. Parents bundled children into coats. Laughter faded toward the parking lot. Car doors slammed softly through the falling snow.
Megan scanned the space. Holden had been in the wings stage left. She spied him there when the pageant started, a tall silhouette against the backdrop, arms crossed, watching.
He must’ve stepped out to help load Einstein into the trailer with Cade.
She crossed to the stage and climbed the steps. Paper snowflakes turned slow circles overhead. The lights glowed warm gold.
“Holden?”
Her voice echoed back. She moved into the wings. Props stacked. Curtain ropes coiled in their places.
No Holden.
“Holden?”
She checked behind the stage and the narrow hall beyond the curtains. Empty. He must be in the parking lot with Tessa and Cade. She descended the stage steps and crossed the gym, pushing through the front doors.
The parking lot stretched white and empty. No Holden. She turned back inside.
The janitor pushed his rolling cart down the hall. “Evening, Miss Collins.”
“Hi, Abe. Have you seen—“ She stopped. The janitor wouldn’t know Holden. “Never mind. I can lock up. Go on home.”
“Appreciate it. Merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas.”
The door closed behind him. Silence.
Megan walked to the gym again. Checked the hallway. The staff room. Back to the stage again, moving faster.
“Holden?”
Nothing.
He wouldn’t leave without telling her. Wouldn’t just vanish during the performance he helped save.
A feeling of dread settled in her stomach.
She climbed the stage steps again. Crossed into the wings. Searched behind every flat, every curtain. “Holden, this isn’t funny.”
Heart pounding, she moved deeper into the narrow storage area beyond. Boxes of props. Stacked chairs.
He had been here. She saw him. Ten yards away, and her boot struck something. She glanced down.
The Christmas card lay face-up on the floor.
Time stopped.
She dropped to her knees. Reached for it with shaking fingers. The painted surface caught the light. She lifted it closer.
Holden’s painted likeness stared back at her, and she saw the slope of his shoulders, the calm set of his mouth, the hint of storm in his dark eyes. She brushed her thumb across the corner, needing the solidness of it, some proof he’d been here at all.
The paint responded.
Not with warmth or light.
It dimmed.
The color pulled inward, as if the portrait inhaled, retreating from her touch. Lines that had been sharp a moment ago thinned. Shadows lightened. The detail in his face, the lines she memorized without meaning to, faded like chalk caught in rainless wind.
“No.” She cupped the card in both hands, as if her palms alone could hold him in place. “Don’t you dare.”
The paint kept receding.
His hat lost shape first, the brim lifting into bare paper. Then the curve of his jaw blurred. His eyes washed out to the palest outline, like a sketch someone never finished.
“No, no—Holden!”
She gripped the card with both hands as if pressure alone could anchor the image. As if she could hold the magic in place.
“Please don’t go.”
Gone. His image evaporated.
“Holden." She let out a whimper.
Nothing answered. Not the card. Not the universe. Not the magic that took him.
He was gone.
The card took him.
Four days. They’d had four days.
She pressed the card to her chest, bent over it like she could shield what was already lost. “I love you.”
The truth slammed through her. She loved him. Four days. Four impossible days.
And she had never said it.
A sound tore from her throat, too raw for a sob, too broken for a scream. Her shoulders shook. Tears fell hot and fast, blurring the card she clutched like it could bring him back.
It wouldn’t.
She folded forward, forehead near the concrete. Her whole body shook, trying to breathe through grief that stole every bit of air.
Four days wasn’t enough to lose someone like this. Wasn’t enough to justify the wreck she became on the floor, but grief didn’t care about timelines.
“Megan?”
She looked up. Eliza stood at the edge of the wings, pale and stricken, with Tessa and Fiona behind her. Then the men, Wyatt, Cade, Rhett, all frozen at the sight of her collapsed with the Christmas card in her hands.
“Oh God.” Fiona let out a soft gasp.
They came fast. Eliza dropped beside her first, then Tessa. Fiona knelt in front of her. The men hung back, giving space, offering witness.
“When?” Eliza took her hand.
“I don’t know. I came back here and he was just gone. The card on the floor. I watched it fade. I watched him disappear, and I couldn’t—”
“When you didn’t show up at the bakery, we got worried.” Tessa scooted closer.
“He’s gone.” Megan glanced down. “The card took him back.”
Silence settled through the group. Not shock, recognition.
Rhett crouched beside her. “Megan, listen. The magic didn’t take him because you didn’t love him enough. It took him because the need that brought him here got answered.”
Megan clutched the fading card. “I need him now.”
Eliza nodded. “I know. But the night the card activated, you needed the truth. You needed help standing up to this town.”
Tessa patted her knee. “That’s how it works. It answers the need you have in the moment you touch it. That’s what brought Wyatt. That’s what brought Cade and Rhett. That’s what brought Holden.”
Megan swallowed hard. “But Wyatt asked to go back, and the magic took him.”
Eliza’s expression tightened. “Yes, and it nearly tore him apart doing it. He got caught in a time warp between here and 1878. Suspended. The magic couldn’t place him because the timelines didn't align.”
Fiona bit her bottom lip. “That’s the thing, Meg. The magic responds, but it’s not perfect. It glitches. It obeys crooked. It follows pathways we don’t understand.”
Megan’s breath shook. “So why did Holden go so easily?”
“Because the timing was right,” Eliza said. “The pathway lined up. And your need, the one that summoned him, got fulfilled.” She touched Megan’s hand. “That doesn’t mean he’s gone forever. Only that this part is over.”
Megan stared down at the blank card. “So what now?”
Tessa’s voice softened. “Now your heart figures out what it needs next. And when the magic hears that?” She gave a small, sad smile. “We’ll see.”
“The magic thinks he’s done.” Her voice cracked. “He accomplished what he came here for.”
No one contradicted her.
“You can still try,” Fiona said. “Hold the card. Call for him. Not because it’ll snap him back… but because you shouldn’t feel like you did nothing.”
Megan swallowed. “Will it work?”
No one answered. That was answer enough.
“You all had more time,” she said. “I had four days.” Her throat tightened. “Four days isn’t enough to know for sure.”
“Do you love him?” Fiona asked.
Megan stared at the card. “Yes. Is that ridiculous?”
“No.” Eliza brushed the hair off Megan's forehead. “Not even a little.”
“But I’m the woman who fell for someone in four days and lost him before I could say it out loud.” She hiccuped. “I’m the woman crying on the gym floor over somebody who might not even—”
She couldn’t finish.
Tessa touched her shoulder. “Try anyway.”
Megan shut her eyes, gripping the card. She didn’t expect magic. She didn’t expect him to appear in a blaze of light. She just couldn’t sit still and let the loss sit unchallenged.
Holden Reed. Please come back.
Nothing.
She tightened her fingers on the edges of the card, as if pressure alone could pull him across time. “Holden, please.”
The heater clicked on overhead. The gym hummed.
The card stayed cold.
“How long did Wyatt take? When he came back?”
“A few hours,” Eliza said. “But he wanted to return. He fought for it, and I had to literally reach in and pull him through the time glitch.”
Megan stared at her. “How?”
“I reached into the card,” Eliza said.
Megan stared down at the card. “How?”
“The card was glowing as Wyatt tried to get back to me.”
“Oh. So if the card doesn’t glow…”
All six of her friends carried glum expressions.
“He’s not coming back, is he?” Sadness swamped her.
“We don’t know that. There’s so much we don’t know,” Wyatt said.
“Could it be that he’s not trying to get back?”
No one answered.
The implication hit hard. Perhaps he was not.
“He did what he was supposed to do.” Megan shook her head. “Help me tell the truth and reclaim his name. Maybe that was enough.”
“That’s not how this works,” Rhett said.
“How do you know?” Megan snapped, pain spiking sharp. “Maybe he’s relieved, and he’s back in 1878 thinking the last four days were strange and he’s better off home.”
“Megan—” Eliza touched her shoulder.
“He told me this morning he couldn’t promise to stay.” Her eyes burned. “And I never told him.”
Tessa pulled her in. The sob tore free, raw, huge, unstoppable. Fiona held her close. Eliza’s hand steadied her back. The men stood behind them, silent as fence posts in a storm.
When she finally could breathe again, she pulled back, wiped at her face. “I’m going to keep the card with me, and if I feel anything, see any glow, I’ll try again.”
“For how long?” Fiona asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You all go on home. It’s Christmas Eve.” She waved them away.
“We can’t leave you alone.” Eliza shook her head.
“Please, you don’t understand. I want to be alone.”
Her friends exchanged glances.
“I want you to go. Please.”
“Okay.” Eliza nodded. “But you’ll call if you need us?”
Megan nodded. “Thank you.”
They left one by one, Eliza last, looking back twice before the door thudded shut.
Silence settled. Megan sank to the stage. Crossed her legs. Laid the card in her lap.
“Holden Reed. Please come back.”
Nothing.
She asked again.
And again.
Time blurred. Her voice went hoarse. Her hands cramped from holding the card so tight.
It never warmed. Near midnight, she pressed it to her chest.
“I love you. I should’ve told you.” Megan curled over the card, the tears falling.
Then once last time, she asked him to come back. Not expecting magic. Not expecting light. She didn’t believe in miracles after all. Just letting grief take her.