“Hey,” Lillian said, dressed in a short-sleeved sweatshirt, running pants, and neon sneakers. “You chose a dog with the right number of legs.”

“She peters out after a few miles, though. How far do you usually go?”

“Depends on how much time I have. Anywhere between three and six, and longer if I’m training for a race.”

Emilia noted the runner’s gleam in Lillian’s eyes. “I usually call it quits at five,” she admitted.

“Let’s do three and see how we feel?”

Emilia nodded and hoped she didn’t slow Lillian down.

She stopped worrying after the first mile. They ran well together, and to Emilia’s relief Lillian kept the conversation to a minimum, allowing Emilia to take in her surroundings. Lillian led them along a paved road at first and then onto a dirt one. Wildflowers bloomed alongside the gravelly edge. Beyond, the trees opened onto marshland. Tall reeds and salt grasses blew in the late afternoon wind. They startled a heron as the road curved deeper into the marsh. Its wings spread as it took flight. Sunlight sparkled on the water shining through the grass.

“I bet this road floods,” she said to Lillian over the crunch of their shoes, because to comment on its beauty seemed somehow inadequate.

“All the time.”

She felt, rather than saw, the gradual incline as her calves burned. Grass fell away to one side as granite appeared beneath the mud flats. After another half mile, she could see the river and the distant harbor, along with summer houses peering out of the pines. Nell’s tongue lolled and sweat poured down Emilia’s face. Lillian ran on. Sunlight shone off her bronzed skin, which was as slick as Emilia’s from exertion.

Another mile brought them down again. Emilia recognized the stretch of paved road from her hunt for a hardware store, and the houses and farms they passed rose out of emerald green yards. Hard to imagine winter, she thought, catching the scent of lilacs on the wind.

Lillian slowed to a walk just as Emilia sensed her own stamina flagging for good.

“Whew,” Lillian said with an exhilarated laugh. “Good, right?”

“So good.” She ruffled Nell’s ears. “How far is that loop?”

“Just over four miles.”

“It sounded like you’re the only runner in the house.”

“Yeah. Angie and Stevie will use the treadmill in the winter sometimes.”

“Not Morgan?”

“Morgan likes to do things. Deadlift sheep, or whatever.”

Emilia laughed at the image.

“It really isn’t fair, though,” Lillian continued. “I bust my butt and she does one push-up and gets ripped.”

“I still can’t believe you all live and work together.”

“We don’t really. Stevie and Morgan are hardly ever home. I see Angie a lot, but she’s got the kennel, and I can hide in the greenhouse when I need a break.”

“And Stevie and Morgan don’t fight?”