Read Online Up at Butternut Lake: A Novel by Mary McNear - Free Book Online Page B

you need me for any reason.”
    “Thanks,” Walker said, and he went back to his office. But he didn’t go back to work right away. Instead, he sat back in his desk chair, put his feet up on his desk, and sipped his lousy coffee. He was thinking that not only were there no problems at the boatyard, but Cliff was doing such a good job as GM that Walker might not be able to justify his presence here much longer. And then he frowned, remembering something. Because the day he’d interviewed Cliff for the general manager’s job, three years ago, was also the day Caitlin had come to the boatyard to see him.
    His interview with Cliff was winding down when there’d been a light rap on his closed office door.
    “Who is it?” Walker called out, with barely concealed annoyance. The few employees who worked at the boatyard then knew better than to disturb him when his office door was closed.
    “It’s Caitlin,” a voice answered. Caitlin? he thought. Here?
    “Come in,” he said, trying to sound nonchalant. But his mind was racing. Caitlin was the woman he was dating on his weekend trips to Minneapolis, but she’d never been to Butternut before. She’d never been there for the simple reason that he’d never invited her. They weren’t at that point in their relationship yet. And it wasn’t clear to him that they ever would be. The more time they spent together, in fact, the less they appeared to have in common. Recently, it had occurred to him that the initial physical attraction they’d felt for each other might not be strong enough to sustain their relationship much longer.
    Which was probably why she was here, he realized, with relief, as she hesitantly opened the door to the office. She was here to break up with him. Though why she thought it was necessary to drive all the way up here on a weekday to do it was beyond him. She could have done it, much more conveniently, over the phone. Most people, he knew, would have considered that rude, but he wasn’t one of them. It would have spared them both the awkwardness of her doing it in person.
    He stood up then and gave her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek. He started to introduce her to Cliff but saw that Cliff was in no condition for introductions. He was staring, dumbstruck, at Caitlin. And Walker couldn’t blame him. Not entirely. Because the first time he’d met Caitlin, at a bar in Minneapolis, he’d had a similar response.
    She had long blond hair, wide cornflower blue eyes, and skin so pale it was almost translucent. She was a beautiful girl. There was no question about it. But like a lot of beautiful people, Walker had come to suspect that she’d never been called upon to develop the rest of herself. Because either she didn’t have a personality, or she hid it behind her quietness. Still waters might run deep, or, in her case, he thought, they might just run still .
    “Cliff,” Walker said, turning to his interviewee, who had partially recovered himself, “I’m going to have to cut this short. But I’ll be getting back to you soon.”
    They shook hands and Cliff left. Walker gestured for Caitlin to sit down on the chair Cliff had just vacated. She sat down, uneasily, and Walker sat down, too.
    “Would you like a cup of really terrible coffee?” he asked.
    “No, thanks,” she said.
    He smiled at her, and said, casually, “I think I know what brings you up here.”
    She looked surprised. “You do?”
    He nodded. He tried to choose his words carefully. “Our relationship has hit some kind of a wall. It’s not your fault, and I hope it’s not mine. But it doesn’t seem to have any real momentum left . . .” His voice trailed off uneasily. Something about the way she was looking at him made him stop.
    “What are you saying, Walker?” she asked.
    “I’m saying what I thought you came up here to say.”
    “Which is . . .” she prompted him.
    “Which is that you want to break things off with me.” There, he thought. He’d said it. Now that