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Page 91
"Does Arlen Danziger . . . does he serve food here?"
She enjoyed the way the corners of his eyes crinkled as he laughed, although she did not at first comprehend his humor. "Hardly. Arlen Danziger was an ancestor of mine. He lived sometime in the middle of the last century. He was a cook, and his recipes were passed down through my family."
Abby nearly tripped on the walkway as she swallowed a gasp. Here was a connection! Not only did they share the same last name and similar appearances: Arlen and Mike, despite being separated by several generations, were related.
Might this have something to do with why she was drawn to this time?
"How clever you were to use such an inherited gift," she said, striving to appear no more than politely interested. But her head throbbed as her thoughts spun like a wagon wheel behind a runaway team. How was she to learn her purpose here and how Mike's relationship with Arlen was involved? Especially since she dared not question Mike. Her merest suggestions of her arrival on a wagon train had agitated him.
She must have been successful in hiding her inner turmoil, for as he opened the glass door for her to enter, he continued, "Of course, people in those days didn't worry much about things like high calories or cholesterol. So I modernized the recipes, made them healthier. The idea caught on, and my chain now consists of nearly a hundred restaurants."

 
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