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in the environment. You can tie his views to those of the twenty-first century, especially his establishment of the National Forests and National Parks, bird reserves, and game preserves, and ensuring the sustainability of natural resources.”

“You must have brushed up on him before you came back for me.”

JC secured the saddlebags to the D-rings on the saddle and collected the reins he’d tied to a bush. “I did, but mostly I focused on the time he spent here.” He clicked his tongue. “Let’s go, Mercury.”

Ensley sidled up alongside JC, considering a possible angle. “I don’t know if I can find a new twist on the body of work that already exists.”

“You have a different perspective. You’re here with TR…or will be…and I doubt anyone else wrote a contemporary account of his life. And remember, everything TR does here in the Dakotas impacts the rest of his life, and you”—he gazed down at her—“have the benefit of knowing his future.”

She munched on the energy bar, her legs swishing through the tall grass, and she thought about the depth of her Teddy Roosevelt knowledge. While it might not be as broad as JC’s, it had some substance to it, especially about his time here in the Badlands.

“Here’s a question,” she said. “Don’t you think it’s dangerous? What if I suggest something he hasn’t thought of yet?”

“It was here in the Dakotas that he conceived many of his ideas about the environment and conservation. I doubt a discussion of those issues will be premature.”

“I thought you said the number one rule of brooch management was not to change history.”

“That’s true. But you won’t be changing it. You might be helping TR formulate ideas and beliefs sooner than he would have otherwise, but that’s it.”

“Shit. That’s scary. What if I—”

“You won’t screw up, Ens. Just do what feels right.”

She followed JC and Mercury down a steep path, leading toward the river. “You know what feels right? A rare T-bone with a loaded baked potato.”

“Maybe TR will slaughter one of his cows for dinner.”

“Isn’t that supposed to be a fatted calf?” she asked.

“Only if you’re a prodigal son.”

She stopped at the bottom of the path and stared at JC for a moment.

He stared right back. “I know what you’re thinking, and you can forget it. Dad won’t prepare a feast for me. When this is over, it’ll take a while to get back into his good graces.”

“He might surprise you.”

“Nah. It isn’t Dad’s anger that I’m worried about.”

“God, if he yelled at me, I’d end up in a puddle on the floor like the wicked witch.”

“I can handle the cussing-out and throwing stuff. It’s his disappointment that will sting. And Mom will get caught in the middle. She’ll start crying, and that’ll break my heart. Then Dad will blame me for hurting her, and he’ll be right, and the fight will continue.”

She never had anything like that happen with her parents and could only imagine how awful it would be. JC’s grimace showed how hurtful it was for him.

“How do you see it ending?”

“It’s only happened once before, and Uncle David intervened.”

Ensley grabbed JC’s arm as she navigated the last part of the path. “Did your uncle take your side?”

“Hell, no. He just lowered the temperature and sent everyone to separate corners to cool down.”

“I guess you didn’t consider your dad’s feelings when you planned this adventure.”

“I did, but I figured this mission would be a quick in-and-out, and he wouldn’t know until it was over.”

When she reached level ground, she let go of JC’s arm. “Aren’t you the master chess player who can calculate twenty moves in advance?”

“Twenty-five.” He led Mercury toward the river for a drink. “But coming back for you, I couldn’t see further than three or four moves.”

“You miscalculated.”

JC set his chiseled jaw, and it didn’t budge.

“Never mind,” she said, walking away from the river. “Enough has been said about it. We don’t need to keep rehashing it.”

Mercury finished drinking, and JC led him away from the river. “Wrong pronoun, sweetheart. I’m not rehashing it at all.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart.”

“Then stop reminding me of my screwup.”

They walked side by side in tense silence for several minutes until she decided to get them back on friendlier terms. “I read that TR was probably the most well-read president and perhaps one of the most well-read men in all of history. He usually read a book before breakfast and, depending on his schedule, another two or three in the evening.”

“Can you imagine having that distinction on your headstone?”

“I doubt you’re very far behind him since you’re a speed-reader extraordinaire. How many books do you normally read in a day?”

“It depends on what I’m reading. If it’s sad, I follow it with a happy story or some nonfiction book.”

“About what?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. “I don’t know. A couple of nights ago, I read a short story about how threatened animals can bounce back.”

“Really? Then you’re the one who should write a book about TR.”

“I’m not a writer. You are.”

“Okay, then what’s your favorite Hallmark holiday movie?”

“I don’t have one, but my parents could make a personal holiday movie. They met right before Christmas, and within days fell hopelessly in love. Then they had a huge fight and broke up. After that, they both went through one of those long dark nights of the soul. Then within a few days, they confessed their love and are now living their HEA.”

“You’ve got that whole Hallmark movie plot down pat. So you’re a true romantic who doesn’t want a relationship. That doesn’t make sense.”

“I didn’t say I never want one. I just don’t plan to commit before I’m thirty-six, thirty-seven. Something like that.”

“Another decade? Well, good luck with that. When you least expect it, somebody’s going to come along and knock you off your feet.”

“My parents were older when they met, and I came along eight months after they got married.”

She stopped in her tracks. “Really? I never heard that.”

“It’s not something I talk

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