The Lake House by Marci Nault Read Free Book Online Page A

wet with packed snow. Worried that the back wheels of her car would skid and slide, Molly took her time. As they came over Nagog Hill, the fields around the McAffees’ red barn came into view, revealing miles of bare fruit orchards, which produced peaches, nectarines, pears, and apples in summer and fall. Molly drove to the barn and parked in the plowed gravel area out front. “I thought we’d get some fresh milk and eggs,” she said, stepping out of the car.
    A man dressed in coveralls and a flannel down jacket greeted them with a smile. “Didn’t think anyone would be coming by today,” he said.
    Molly did the introductions. “Shawn Patrick, this is my friend Victoria. She’s one of us originals down in Nagog, but she’s been living in California for some time. She moved back this past week.” Molly turned to Victoria. “Shawn bought the farm two years ago, and somehow he’s gotten the peach and apple orchards to produce the sweetest fruit I’ve ever tasted.”
    “Well, when my fruit is going into one of your incredible pies, it has to be the best.” He smiled at Molly as he worked a wad of chewing tobacco.
    “Isn’t that the truth,” Victoria said. “It’s nice to meet you, Shawn.”
    “We need two quarts of milk and two dozen eggs,” Molly said.
    Shawn went into the barn and came back with a box. They paid him, and Molly promised to bring him homemade bread the following week.
    They made their way along the narrow road on the opposite side of the lake from Nagog. Houses had never been built on this side of the water. Nagog owners had bought the land after the war to ensure that the view across the lake from their homes would always be a thick wooded area that turned bright red, yellow, and orange during the fall. When Molly and her friends took over the residences, they donated the land to conservation. Now hiking paths led to a dock where teenagers sometimes congregated on hot days, but because the trees couldn’t be cleared to create a road down to the lake, it remained mostly unused.
    Molly glanced at Victoria. Her friend was quiet as she watched the scenery pass. She could tell from Victoria’s face thather thoughts were buried in the past. Molly wished she could reach in and pull Victoria to the present. She wanted her friend to be filled with everything this little town still had to offer.
    Molly had never wanted to live anywhere but Nagog and was one of the few who’d never resided outside the community; her parents had given her their home as a wedding gift and then moved to a winter place down South. Molly enjoyed traveling with her husband, Bill, every few years to Europe, and family trips to Disney World and the Grand Canyon had given her special memories. But for Molly, nothing was sweeter than baking in her kitchen and being surrounded by family and friends. The community had given her everything she needed: a safe place to grow up, close friends, and the prettiest neighborhood she could imagine, just outside her window.
    As a little girl, love embraced her like a down comforter fluffed over her body. Her life had been a cradle of hugs, kisses, and bedtime stories. Even when she got chicken pox, her parents told her she was beautiful. Her brothers and sisters, who had either passed on in the last few years or had moved south, had given her security. There had always been someone who looked out for her.
    But most of all, Nagog had given her Bill. Molly never had to wait for her prince to come. She knew him from birth.
    When Bill had gone to war, her mother held her in her arms and said, “Don’t pray for God to make your life perfect. Instead, ask for the humor and courage to get you through.” Molly had lived by those words.
    As they drove through the commercial area of Littleton, Molly noticed how much had changed over the last fifty years. As a girl, she’d ride her bike the four miles along a dirt road to the candy store in Littleton town center. Now busy streets,