Chapter 15
Chapter Fifteen
Sometime around eight, Megan dragged herself off the gym floor, locked up, and drove home. She pulled into her driveway and cut the engine, sitting in darkness and silence with the Christmas card resting cold in her lap the entire way.
Inside, the house felt too quiet.
She flipped on the lights. They didn’t help; they just made the emptiness more obvious. The kitchen, where she made grilled cheese and tomato soup for Holden that first night. The living room, where they put up the tree he insisted she needed. Spaces where he’d been and wasn’t anymore.
She plugged in the tree, sank onto the couch, and pulled out the card. Cold. Dark. Hours later, and nothing had changed.
The Christmas tree blinked its lights—red, green, gold. Her mother loved Christmas. She always made sure the tree was perfect, every ornament placed just right.
“I don’t know what to do, Mom."
Her mother wasn’t there to answer.
And neither was Holden.
She ran her thumb over the card’s surface, empty of Holden’s image for the thousandth time. What was she even holding onto? A piece of painted cardstock that had stopped being magical?
Four days. Most people would call that ridiculous. She would have called it ridiculous a week ago. You couldn’t build something real in an instant. You couldn’t grieve this hard for someone who barely had time to become part of her life.
But her chest ached like she had lost something vital.
“This is stupid. Crying over a man I barely knew. On Christmas Eve. While my friends worry, and I lie about wanting to be alone.”
She pressed the card against her chest. Felt nothing. No warmth. No pulse. Just cold paper that had outlived its purpose.
Maybe that was the truth. The magic was done. Holden had gotten what he came for to help her restore his honor. Now he was back where he belonged, in his own time. She closed her eyes and let the tears come. They’d been building since she found the card in her mother’s secret drawer.
Christmas Eve. Her mother gone. Holden gone. Sitting alone while everyone else celebrated.
This was her life now. This emptiness. This slow process of learning to live with loss. She should put the card away, in a drawer somewhere. Stop carrying it around like it might suddenly come back to life. Stop feeling sorry for herself and move on.
But she couldn’t let go. “One more time. Just once more. Then I’ll stop.”
She closed her eyes and let herself feel everything—the grief, the longing, the desperate wish that things could be different. “Holden Reed, I know you probably can’t hear me. But I’m asking anyway. Please. If there’s any chance and you want me, come back. I…I need you.”
She hitched in a half-breath. “I miss you. I miss my mom. I miss believing things could work out.”
She waited. Counted heartbeats. One. Two. Three.
Nothing.
She opened her eyes.
Still no image of him. Still cold. Still just paper. No light. No warmth. No hope.
“Okay. I tried.”
She lowered the card to her lap. This was it. The moment she stopped believing in magic.
* * *
After the town hall meeting, Holden walked the streets of Evergreen Springs.
Smaller than in 2025. Rougher. Buildings that looked temporary. The hotel stood half its future size. The general store had wooden shutters instead of glass windows. Lantern light flickered behind oiled paper.
He passed Foster’s Bakeshop. Brand new. Just built.
The cold cut through him. He should find shelter. The hotel would rent him a room.
He kept walking instead.
East, away from the town center. Past the last scattered houses where families gathered for Christmas Eve. Past the livery and the church with its crooked steeple. Out into open country where the land rolled white under moonlight.
He stopped.
This spot. Right here.
In 2025, Megan’s house would stand on this exact piece of frozen ground. Her living room. Her kitchen. The couch where they once sat.
She was there now. Not here in time, but in space. Wind whispered through bare cottonwoods. Silent except for—
Sleigh bells?
The sound carried clear across frozen air. Somewhere beyond the tree line, a family headed home. The bells rang cheerful and bright, fading into the distance.
He’d never thought twice about that sound in his own time. Just gear. Just metal knocking.
But it pulled up something else now.
That first night in Megan’s car, her humming along to Christmas songs he didn’t know, sleigh bells in the music bright enough to make her smile at him like it was the most natural thing in the world to bring a man from 1878 along for the ride.
Those bells didn't mean anything to him then.
They did now.
They reminded him of her.
He’d made his choice in that town hall, given Murray his story, saved the town a second time, done what needed doing.
But standing here in the cold, on ground where Megan’s house would someday stand a hundred and fifty years in the future, the choice felt incomplete.
He’d sacrificed his name to save Evergreen Springs. Now he needed to get back to the woman who fought to give it to him.
“I want to go back to her."
No answer. Just wind and cold and vast winter quiet.
Maybe the magic didn’t work twice. Maybe he made his choice—stay in 1878, help Murray—and that was final.
Maybe four days was all they got.
He pressed his palm against his chest, searching for the warmth that pulsed there earlier.
Nothing. Just his own heartbeat.
“Please.” The word came out rough. “If there’s any way back—“
Heat exploded under his palm.
He gasped. Warmth pulsed fierce and urgent, spreading through his ribs, flooding his chest with light that built from inside.
Megan.
He could feel her across time. Desperate. Grieving. Making one last attempt.
Come back to me.
Her voice in his head, clear as if she stood beside him.
“I’m coming.” He pressed harder against his chest where the warmth blazed. “Megan, hold on. I’m coming.”
The warmth surged in response. Gold light flickered at the edges of his vision.
The magic was taking him.
This time he didn’t fight. He stepped into the pull, into the certainty that he was going where he belonged.
The pasture dissolved. The moon vanished. Everything became gold light that surrounded him, carrying him forward.
Then solid floor under his boots. Electric light. Warm air.
Megan’s living room.
She sat curled on the couch, eyes closed, tears streaming down her face. The card lay in her lap. She looked hollowed out. Destroyed.
“Megan.”
Her eyes flew open. Shock first. Then something deeper. Something that hit Holden straight in the chest.
She didn’t move.
Didn’t breathe.
Just stared like he was a ghost she didn’t dare believe in.
The card slid from her hands. It hit the hardwood floor and burst into flame.
Gold fire consumed it. No smoke, just brilliant light that flared and died in seconds. Where the card had been, only ash remained. Fine gray powder scattered across the floor.
Her focus stayed locked on him, that blue-eyed gaze holding the same fear he felt in the pasture when he begged the magic to take him back to her.
She pushed off the couch. Her legs buckled. Holden crossed the room fast enough that the world blurred at the edges. He caught her before she hit the floor.
She crashed into him hard, arms around his waist, face pressed against him. The sound she made tore straight through him. He held her with both arms, steadying the tremor in her body with the weight of his.
She pulled back only far enough to see him. Her palms framed his face, fingers warm and shaking as they traced the lines of him like she was afraid he’d vanish if she blinked.
“You’re here." Her breath brushed his cheek. “You’re really here.”
“I’m here.” The words were simple, but everything in him leaned into them.
She studied him up close, inches away, her gaze flicking from his eyes to his mouth and back up again. Every small movement of her hand felt like a brand sinking into his skin. He didn’t breathe. Didn’t risk breaking the moment.
He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted it. Wanted to taste her relief, share his own, anchor himself in the one person who fought for him across time. But she lost too much tonight. Everything had to be her choice.
She slid her hands down to his jaw. Her thumbs brushed the line of his beard. She searched his face like she was memorizing it all over again.
Whatever she saw there made her rise onto her toes.
Holden bent toward her without thinking.
She pulled him the rest of the way.
Her mouth met his in a rush of heat and fear and need all tangled together. No hesitation. No caution. Just the raw, desperate relief of a woman who prayed herself hollow and finally got an answer.
Holden kissed her back with all the hours he spent fighting across time, with the cold still trapped in his bones and the certainty that nothing in his life—either life—had ever felt this right.
His hand slid into her hair. The other held her waist, keeping her close as if distance itself was a risk.
She clung to him like she wasn’t fully convinced he would stay solid. He understood. He wasn’t letting go either.
When they finally parted, breath rough between them, she stayed close. Her fingers kept tracing his face. Still checking. Still confirming.
“The card." Her gaze flicked to the ash on the floor. “It burned.”
“I saw.”
“Does that mean—“
“The portal’s closed. I can’t go back.”
She searched his face. “Are you okay with that?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. “I made my choice. The card just decided it was permanent.”
“But you can’t ever—if you change your mind—“
“I ain’t gonna change my mind.” He cupped her face in both hands. “I chose you. I chose this time. I’m certain.”
Fresh tears tracked down her cheeks. “You’re stuck here forever.”
“I’m exactly where I want to be.”
She pulled in a shaky breath. Then her arms went around him again, tighter this time. He held her and let her cry, relief and grief and overwhelming emotion all mixed.