Eden draws in a soft breath, sympathetic, uncertain how to respond. From the way he talks and acts, she could have guessed he was from an earlier era, though she wouldn't have tried to pinpoint which one; that's just the way her life is these days and she's learned to roll with it without too many questions. It isn't her style to butt into personal matters. She knows damn well people will talk if and when they want to. This, though, is something more than she would have ever guessed. To come to a place like this and be uprooted from one's own time is one thing. To wake up in his own world decades later is something completely else, something she can't fully imagine.

"Steve, that's more like a canyon," she says. Her brow furrows before she can continue, something else striking her. Gaze raking over his body, she looks up at him again, frowning. There's no way in hell this man is anywhere close to ninety years old. "I had no idea being on ice could keep you looking so good."