Page 7 of Past Due

“Do you mind?” I asked, grateful for their help.

“Not at all!”

“I’ll be right back,” I promised and carefully handed over the sleeping puppy. True to my word, I quickly handled my most pressing needs and returned to the small group that had gathered around the puppy. “Thank you!”

“It was my pleasure,” she said, her accent a curious blend I couldn’t place. “You’re American?”

“Yeah.” I held out my hand. “Marley.”

“Anna.” She gestured to the blonde girl next to her. “Ella, my sister. We’re from Denmark.”

“I was in Denmark a few weeks ago. I toured most of the museums in Copenhagen.”

Before I could ask them what part of Denmark they were from, the boy returned with a piece of paper. “Here,” he said, thrusting it at me. “Her place is easy to find. My grandfather wrote her a note, just in case.”

“Just in case what?”

He shrugged. “Nothing.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Is it safe to go there?”

“Sure.” His grandfather called out to him, and he turned and left us there without another word.

“He’s friendly,” Ella grumbled.

“He’s a teenager,” Anna replied. “Like our brother.” She rolled her eyes. “They’re so rude at that age.”

“Do you want us to come with you?” Ella asked as she reached out to gently rub the puppy’s head.

“No, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I looked over the directions. “It’s only a 5 km walk. I should be able to do that and turn around and get down to my hotel reservation before dark.”

“Do you have a flashlight?” Anna asked. “In case, it takes longer?”

“Yes. I checked it this morning.”

“Well, if you’re sure you can make the trip alone, we’re going to head down,” Anna said, her reluctance clear. “Which hotel are you staying at tonight?” After I gave her the name, she said, “We’ll come by and check on you later. Make sure you made it down safe.”

“Thank you,” I said, touched by her concern. “I’ll buy you both a drink and tell you all about my side trip.”

“Deal.”

I waved at the sisters as they headed toward the trail and turned in the opposite direction to find the road that I was supposed to travel. Snuggling the puppy in tighter as it whined and kicked its feet, I shushed it gently until it fell back asleep. I kept to the side of the roadway, not wanting to get clipped by a vehicle. The longer I walked, the more it became obvious the road wasn’t used much. Even so, I remained vigilant.

When I reached a sharp bend in the road, I retrieved the directions from my pocket and checked them for my next step. Left down the small road and then right at a red gate.

As I walked down the narrow road, I noticed the air growing cooler as dark clouds moved closer. My jacket was waterproof so I wasn’t too worried about getting wet, but I wasn’t sure about the road conditions or if I could manage the rest of my hike in stormy weather. I could just imagine the facepalm moment Aston would have when I told her this part of my travel story. She would be amused but also scold me out of worry.

Rightly so, I acknowledged as the first drops of rain plopped on my head. I paused my walk long enough to tug my hood into place and to tuck the puppy inside my jacket to keep it dry. Back on the road, I hastened my pace as a red gate came into view.

When I reached the gate, I hopped a puddle and grimaced as I jostled the puppy awake. “Sorry, sweetie.” I gently rubbed the outside of my jacket to soothe the puppy. “I’ll be more careful.”

In the distance, I could just make out the roof of a farmhouse. Bit by bit, the rest of the farm became visible. The house looked similar to all the other houses I had passed during the hike with its wooden shingle roof and stone exterior. There was a small barn and a fenced off pastures with sheep and goats huddling together in the rain.

Near the side of the house, there was a garden filled with vegetable plants, but it was the towering fluffy petaled sunflowers standing proud in front of the house that had my attention. They looked so cheerful, even in the rain. Like little bursts of sunshine beckoning me closer to the well-kept house.

A dark-haired, heavyset woman appeared in the doorway of the house. She opened the door and wiped her hands on a white dish towel. Her jeans and sweater were stained from hard work, and I hoped I wasn’t interrupting something important.

“Agnesa?” I asked as I drew near.

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