“What’s Green River Rendezvous?” I asked, struggling to keep up with him on the sidewalk, close enough so we could hear each other but not too close to bug him. I already knew that Jake had personal space issues from when he wouldn’t let anyone sit next to him at the Mexican restaurant; I did not yet know that he was really into Wyoming history.

“Rendezvous started in 1825,” he said quickly in a monotone voice, like a fast-talking robot. He somewhat reminded me of Frankie, except she’d gotten better at changing the tone of her voice in the last couple years.

Jake kept talking as we followed everyone else.

“At the first Green River Rendezvous, mountain men and Native Americans met and traded fur and weapons to get ready for winter. They had fun together, so they kept meeting every year. We still celebrate Rendezvous during the second full weekend in July. You’re lucky you’re here. There’s a street fair today, a parade tomorrow, and a rodeo all weekend. I don’t like the fair or the parade. The best part is the reenactment. They dress up and charge in on their horses. It’s cool.”

“It sounds cool,” I said.

“It is,” Jake said, like the Rendezvous’s coolness was flat-out fact. “You should go this weekend. I’m going.”

“Maybe I will,” I said, not really wanting to go to a rodeo, a reenactment, or a parade. Not wanting to do anything.

“I wish we had camp at night, because then I could take pictures of the stars.”

“Camp at night,” I said. “Huh.”

“Everything is better at night.”

Except that’s when the nightmares happen.

I’d had the same dream, Colette jumping off the boulder and then tumbling into nothing, three times now.

We’d reached the part of Pine where the street fair started. Temporary red-and-white fences had been placed at the ends of the three-block stretch to keep traffic out, and there were vendors selling all sorts of things from art to jewelry to food to toys. Seemingly the whole town of Pinedale was packed into the three blocks.

“Wow,” I said. “You’re right. That is a lot of people!”

“They come from Boulder, Cora, Daniel, Big Piney, and even Jackson. Rendezvous is cool.”

“So you said.” I smiled, but he wasn’t making eye contact to see it.

“Let’s take pictures from the bench,” Jake said, starting off toward the sidewalk on the right. Even though we didn’t have to have partners—and technically I could go where I wanted—I felt the pull of an invisible string and followed him anyway.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go down the center of the street?” I asked, thinking we’d get better pictures.

“No.” Jake was clearly stubborn. He also clearly didn’t want to touch anyone else.