Chapter 14 #2
“The truth is this town dies without that railroad.” Holden looked around the room, meeting gazes.
“You all know it. Your families, your homes, your children’s futures, all of it depends on getting that rail line through here.
” He gestured at the boy on Alice’s hip, at Mrs. Gunterson’s grandson, at the other children scattered through the room.
“They deserve a future. If my story helps make that happen, then that’s what matters. ”
Silence fell. Heavier this time.
Then Pete Carson stood, old and bent, three toes gone from the blizzard. “Boy’s right. I don’t like it, but he’s right. We need that railroad more than we need pride.”
One by one, others nodded. Reluctant agreement spread through the room. Not happy about it, Holden could see that, but willing.
Murray’s hands shook around his crushed hat. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you’ll win. Say you’ll bring that railroad through. Say these families won’t lose everything.”
Murray straightened, shoulders squaring for the first time since Holden entered. “You have my word.”
Warmth bloomed in Holden’s chest. Sudden and unexpected, like someone pressed a brand to his sternum. He put his hand there, startled.
The warmth pulsed. Once. Twice. Insistent.
Megan.
It had to be her, reaching across time somehow. The card had brought him here, but the connection went both ways. She was trying to bring him back.
His throat tightened. Four days. They had four days, and he’d promised her this morning he’d stay as long as the magic let him.
He wanted to go to her. Wanted it with an intensity that made his bones ache. Four days hadn’t been enough. He needed more time to figure out what they could be. More mornings, conversations, and moments when she looked at him like he was something special.
But Murray was talking now, asking questions about the rescue. How long had it taken? What route had he used? What had the weather been like? Details Murray would need to make the story convincing.
And the town was listening, some still protesting softly, others asking their own questions about the election and what happened next.
The warmth pulsed again. Stronger. Urgent.
Wait, he thought. Not to her; she couldn’t hear him. To himself. To the pull trying to take him back. Just let me finish this first.
He chose to give away his name. He chose to sacrifice what Megan fought to restore. The least he could do was see it through. Make sure Murray had everything he needed. Make sure the town understood what they were agreeing to and why it mattered.
Then he could find his way back to her.
He had to believe that was possible. That the magic worked both ways. That if she was reaching for him, if that warmth in his chest was her calling him home, then he could get there.
“The route matters.” Holden focused on Murray. “You’ll need to tell them you went north through Copper Pass. That was the only way that made sense during the storm. South routes were blocked.”
Someone in the crowd gasped. Murray wrote faster.
“When you got to the fort, you were half-frozen. They thought you might not make it.” Holden paused. This part was true. He’d barely made it. “But you convinced them to send wagons. Supplies. Medicine. You saved this town.”
Murray looked up from his notebook. “You saved this town.”
“Not anymore.” Holden pointed to him. “From now on, you did. That’s the story. That’s the truth you tell. And everyone in your family for generations.”
Until 2025, when Megan set the record straight when the consequences no longer mattered.
The warmth pulsed again. Fainter now. Like Megan was tiring. Giving up.
Hold on. I’m coming. Just hold on.
“There’s one more thing,” Holden said. “The newspapers will want details. Specific things they can write about to make it real.”
“Like what?” Murray asked.
“Tell them your hands froze to the reins. That you couldn’t feel your feet by the end of day two. That you sang hymns to stay awake.” He paused. “Tell them you thought about this town. About the families counting on you. And that’s what kept you going.”
Murray’s pen moved across the paper, capturing every word.
Around the room, people watched in silence. Some faces showed shame. Others showed relief. All of them understood what was happening, a hero erasing himself so a leader could be born.
“Will it be enough?” Mrs. Gunterson asked. “To win against Coldiron?”
“I’ll make sure it’s enough,” Murray said, conviction replacing desperation. “Holden’s giving me the story I need. I won’t waste it.”
The warmth faded. Not gone, but cooling.
Holden looked at Murray one more time. “Win. Bring the railroad. Keep this town alive.”
“I will.”
“Then that’s all that matters.”
He turned to leave, needing to find somewhere quiet to focus on that warmth, on Megan’s pull, on finding his way back to her.
“Holden?”
He looked back.
“Thank you. I know what you’re giving up. I know what this costs you.”
Holden nodded, unable to trust his voice. The cost was his name, his honor, his place in history. But the town would survive. The children would have futures. The families would stay together. Well, some things were worth more than glory.
He pushed through the door back into the brutal cold. The warmth in his chest pulsed once more. Faint but there.
Come find me. I’m ready now.
And he closed his eyes and reached for Megan across time.