Another sense of déjà vu washed over me as I stepped onto the porch. I had never been here before, but like Carter, it was almost familiar.

Shaking my head, I followed my aunt and uncle into the foyer dividing the saloon from a more formal dining area. To my surprise, Carter was already seated at the bar. I looked twice, not sure how he managed to get here before us, but curious about him to the point I didn't really care.

"Hey, I'm gonna grab a drink," I said to my uncle.

"Here." He handed me a twenty.

I accepted it and walked to the bar. "Mind if I join you?" I asked and plopped down beside Carter.

"I thought I'd see you here," he said with another excited smile.

"You're kinda weird, Carter." I laughed.

"Well … I didn't mean … I'm sorry. I just …" He sighed.

"It's okay. I understand." He was flushed again, and I felt bad for embarrassing him.

The quiet was awkward. I ordered a beer and waited for Carter to say something. For having invited me, he was strangely quiet, staring at his bottle.

"How did your surveying go today?" I asked finally.

"Slower than usual."

"Hmm." I wasn't good at pretending to be interested in things that really held no importance to me. "So, uh, you like history."

"I like changing history. The idea," he added quickly. "Theorizing. Researching. That kind of thing."

"If you went back in time, would you change things?"

"Yes. I have it calculated." He pulled out a cell phone. "You could spend less than two weeks in the eighteen forties to stop a million deaths. You'd just have to find a Choctaw Indian named Running Bear and another man named Taylor Hansen."

"They caused everything?"

"Sort of." He glanced up. "Am I … weirding you out?"

"Not yet."

He perked up and began talking. He was a delight to watch, charismatic and exuberant. With little interest in history, I paid attention to him as much as possible while he began an epic tale about how one change could have prevented a million deaths. His detail and knowledge of the past was astounding, along with his passion.

Drinking beer after beer, I was more interested in watching him speak than in what he said. The sense we were friends in a past life or had met somewhere in this one grew stronger the longer he spoke, and I found myself laughing and enjoying his company.

Somewhere around beer four, more people trickled into the saloon for dinner, and the lantern-like lights went on around us. My uncle texted me what room I was in while my aunt mentioned a wine tasting bar they were headed to. I, however, liked being around Carter. Bubbly and cheerful, he had a natural, happy energy that compelled me to stay.




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