“Cool,” I said. “You missed some really fascinating engineering of the time.”
“She knew more than the blacksmith,” Gray said while everyone laughed, even though I didn’t really see what was funny.
“Not really,” I said. “I don’t know the first thing about making anything unless it’s digital. I can barely hammer a nail, let alone make one.”
After Basia and Gwen had finished their ice cream, we strolled over to see the post office and the general store, before taking a tour through the pretty mansion.
“My feet hurt,” Basia complained, sitting down on a bench. “Incredible sights, but I may have to call it a day. I can sit here while the rest of you wander around.”
“What about lunch?” Gwen asked. “I need more fuel than just ice cream.”
“Me, too,” Basia explained.
I glanced at my watch. It was nearly three o’clock. “A late lunch, I guess. Is there somewhere nearby to eat?”
“There’s a small cafeteria over behind the entrance,” Gray suggested. “If it’s still open, maybe we can get a sandwich or something.”
I shrugged. “Sounds good to me.”
The cafeteria was indeed still open and not crowded, thankfully. An older couple sat quietly near a window drinking tea or coffee, and two younger adults with backpacks ate sandwiches while watching something on a tablet. We decided to sit outdoors at a picnic bench, as the weather had turned sunny and it wasn’t too windy.
We’d just sat down when a golden retriever suddenly burst out of the trees, ears flapping and tongue lolling as if it had been running hard. It skidded to a stop about five feet from our picnic table, glanced over its shoulder at the woods, and then stared at us silently.
I dropped my sandwich on the table as the others gasped in surprise.
“Well, hello there,” Gray finally said. “Where did you come from?”
“It just bolted out of the trees, right there,” I said, pointing at the spot.
“What a beautiful dog,” Gwen said. “I love golden retrievers. Come here, sweetheart.” She clucked her tongue, stretching out a hand.
“What are you doing, Gwen?” I screeched. “Don’t touch it. We don’t know whether it’s friendly or not. What if it has rabies?”
“It doesn’t look like it has rabies,” Gray said, studying the dog. “There’s no foaming at the mouth, aggressive behavior, or growling. It’s just standing there calmly, looking at us.”
“For now,” I said. “But I don’t think we should bother it.”
“Says the geek girl,” Basia said wryly. “Comfortable in front of computers but scared of a sweet dog.”
“I am not scared of the dog.” Which was mostly true. I just wanted animals to leave me alone. But I swear, as soon Basia mentioned I was scared of the dog, it turned its laser attention on me.
“Great,” I muttered under my breath. It wasn’t that I didn’t like animals—I just had a history with them, and it wasn’t good. Dogs. Cats. Camels. Chickens. Pigs. And several highly suspect seagulls. Whatever. They always seemed to make a beeline for me, and for one reason or another, it never ended well. Never, never, never. All the accumulated data pointed to a potential disaster, which fueled my mistrust.
Gwen, however, completely ignored my suggestion of caution and carefully approached the dog, holding out a hand for it to sniff. “Where’s your collar, pretty girl?”
“How do you know it’s a girl?” I asked.
“I’m close enough to see,” Gwen said.
The dog gently nudged her hand and then stepped around her. It was almost as if she didn’t want Gwen to block her view of me. While the dog didn’t seem dangerous, I couldn’t be sure, especially given her sudden fixation on me.
“Hopefully, her owners are close behind,” I said, looking at the spot where she had exited the woods. But no one followed looking for her. I glanced around the village, but no one seemed interested in us or the dog.
“Weird,” I said.
Gwen was petting her with both hands and Basia cooed, “Ooh. Look at all the copper color in her fur. She’s adorable.”
“Strange that she doesn’t have a collar and we haven’t seen any owners, at least not yet,” Gray said and knelt in front of the dog. “Hey girl, did you escape your owners?” She reached out a hand to scratch the dog’s ears. The retriever didn’t resist but also didn’t show any overt reaction to her touch one way or the other.
