Excerpt: 'Moonlight on Butternut Lake' by Mary McNear
Mary McNear shares an excerpt from next week's new release, Moonlight on Butternut Lake, book three in her Butternut Lake series.
About the book (courtesy of William Morrow Paperbacks):
Mila Jones has fled the city seeking a safe haven on serene Butternut Lake. Her position looking after Reid Ford is more than a job. It's a chance at a fresh start. And although her sullen patient does everything he can to make her quit, Mila refuses to give up on him.
But Mila isn't the only one needing refuge. Haunted by the car accident that nearly killed him, Reid has hidden himself away. He wants Mila to just leave him alone. And he wishes the whole town would stop looking after his well-being.
Against all odds, Mila slowly draws Reid out. Soon they find themselves forming a tentative, yet increasingly deeper, bond with each other, as well as becoming part of the day-to-day fabric of Butternut Lake itself. But the world has a way of intruding, even in such an idyllic place…And when Mila's violent ex-husband barges back into her life, she and Reid are forced to face down the past.
Mary sets the scene for us ...
Mary: Moonlight on Butternut Lake was partly inspired by Jane Eyre, one of my favorite 19th-century heroines. I was interested in exploring how a young woman, with no financial or emotional support, would overcome her dark past and find a true "home," one that included love, family and friends. Would she be able to realize her dream to become a nurse and find a community, or would her past make that impossible? And what if she came to the beautiful shores of Butternut Lake to take care of a brooding and embittered man recovering from an almost fatal car accident? Could they together heal each other, find love and build a future? This is the story of Mila Jones and Reid Ford. A very 21st-century love story.
EXCERPT
Mila got up from the desk, walked over to the dresser, took the ring box out of the bottom drawer, and then took the ring out of the box. She left the bedroom with the ring, padding softly down the hallway and stopping outside Reid's bedroom door. There was a faint yellow band of light visible beneath his door, but there were no sounds coming from his room. She waited there a minute before walking quietly to the kitchen, where, following Lonnie's instructions, she disabled the alarm she'd already set. Then she walked out of the kitchen, through the living room, and to the sliding glass door that led onto the deck. She unlocked it and opened it, slowly. She hesitated there, wondering if she should turn on the deck lights, but she decided not to. Some things, she thought, were best done under the cover of night. So she crossed the unlit deck to the set of steps Lonnie had pointed out to her that afternoon, and she started down them. As soon as she did, though, the night seemed to envelop her, and she felt suddenly defenseless in its bigness, and its darkness. Still, she kept going, climbing carefully down the stone steps, whose whiteness glowed faintly in the light of a thin crescent moon, and whose roughness felt cool beneath her bare feet.
When she reached the bottom step, she paused. The dock was much longer than she'd expected it to be. It jutted out, impossibly far, over the black, glassy surface of the lake. Did it have to be so long? she wondered anxiously. She'd always had a fear of deep water, and she knew that by the time she reached her destination, at the dock's end, the lake's depth would be well over her head. But she squeezed the ring in her hand to give herself courage, and when she felt it digging into her palm, she pressed on, careful to stay in the center of the dock, and careful, too, to stop a respectful distance from its end. And as she stood there, her bare toes gripping the smooth pine planks beneath them, she turned and looked back up at the cabin. It looked undisturbed, its outline only slightly blacker than the already black sky behind it. Good, she thought. She had the night to herself, and in more ways than one. She turned back to face the lake again, and, because she felt something was required of her now, something that would somehow mark this moment for the solemn thing it was, she gave a small, silent speech.
Brandon, I don't know if it will ever be possible to legally end our marriage, especially if legally ending it means that you'll know where I am. But the fact that somewhere there will be a piece of paper that says we're still married isn't important to me. What's important to me is that our real marriage ends tonight. For good, and forever. And another thing, Brandon. Even if you were to eventually find me here, I'll die before I'll ever let you hurt me again. That's a promise to you, and it's a promise to me, too.
And with that, she threw the ring into the lake, threw it as hard as she could, so hard, in fact, that she stumbled backward a little with the effort. But she caught herself and listened as the ring landed in the lake with a small plink. She pictured it, then, falling through the dark water, bumping gently against the lake bottom, and settling there on the sand or the silt or among the weeds. Would anyone ever find it? She wondered. She doubted it. As she was considering that question, though, the wind suddenly picked up, stirring the pine trees on the bluff behind her, ruffling the surface of the black water, and sending little waves slapping against the dock's pilings. She shivered and turned to go back up to the cabin. But as she climbed the steps, she imagined that she felt physically lighter without her wedding ring to weigh her down.