Up at Butternut Lake: A Novel Read Free Page A

the edge of Wyatt’s bed, she gave herself a little shake, trying to throw off some of the exhaustion that had settled over her. She listened, for a moment, to Wyatt’s breathing. It had settled into the regular rhythm of sleep. He was down for the count, she knew. He rarely woke up after he’d fallen asleep for the night. She turned off the lights and left the room, careful to leave the door open. She would be able to hear him, from her bedroom across the hall, if he needed her for any reason.
    Then she made up the bed in her room, changed into a tank top and pajama bottoms, and brushed her teeth. It wasn’t until she’d gotten into bed and turned off the bedside table lamp that she let herself contemplate the enormity of what she’d done. She’d sold their house, the only home Wyatt had ever known. She’d put most of their belongings in storage. And she’d bought out her brother’s share of the lakeside cabin they’d been given by their parents, who now lived full-time in a retirement community in South Florida.
    And now she’d returned to a place she hadn’t been in years. A place she hadn’t even spent a whole summer in since childhood. She had no relatives here. And no friends to speak of. The few friends she’d once had here had probably long since moved away. There was nothing here for her now, she knew. Nothing for either of them. Which begged the question of why, exactly, she’d decided to come back.
    She heard a faraway sound, haunting but familiar. It had been a long time since she’d heard it, but if you heard it even once, you never forgot it again. It was the sound of coyotes howling. Not an uncommon sound in the woods of northern Minnesota, but not exactly comforting, either. She felt a tremor of fear. Even knowing they were safe inside the cabin it was unnerving. Tiredness, however, quickly overcame her, even if it didn’t completely obliterate her anxiety. I must be crazy, she thought as she fell into a troubled sleep. Why else would I have thought moving here was a good idea?

CHAPTER 2
    B y eleven o’clock that night, when Walker’s cell phone rang, his mood had gone from bad to worse. He glanced at the caller ID. It was his brother, Reid, the last person he wanted to talk to right now. But in addition to being his brother, Reid was also his business partner. And a demanding one at that. Walker ignored phone calls from him at his own peril.
    He picked up his cell phone and hit the talk button. “What is it?” he growled, by way of a greeting.
    “Jeez, Walk, is that the way you answer your phone now?” Reid asked mildly.
    “It’s eleven o’clock at night,” Walker pointed out, leaning back in his leather desk chair. “We’ve been through this before, Reid,” he said, massaging his temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on. “Remember? You may work twenty-four hours a day, but I’m more of an eight-to-eight man myself.”
    “Well, that may be,” Reid said, sounding faintly disapproving. And despite his bad mood, Walker felt a corner of his mouth lift in amusement. Only a workaholic like Reid would find evidence of laziness in a twelve-hour workday. “But your character defects aside,” Reid continued, “I finished running the numbers on the Butternut Boatyard tonight.” He paused for effect.
    “And?” Walker asked, wishing Reid would hurry up. He wasn’t in the mood to talk about business right now.
    “And you did it,” Reid said simply. “You said you needed five years to turn the boatyard around. You did it in three. Congratulations.”
    There was a long pause while he waited for Walker to answer. Walker didn’t answer.
    “Hey, Walk, I thought this was good news.”
    “It is,” Walker said finally. “Of course it is. I’m just in a lousy mood.”
    “Yeah, I figured that out all by myself,” Reid said. “And you know what? I don’t blame you. If I lived in Butternut, Minnesota, population twelve hundred, I’d be in a bad mood, too.