Chapter 9There was no moon that night. Clara’s knowledge had been proven right: rainstorms in Cane’s Inlet were magnificent and worthy of not only being witnessed, but respected. The beautiful day Noah had awakened to earlier had shifted to darker tones during the late afternoon hours, and by eight o’clock at night, a torrent was beating down on the tiny inlet, waves roiling off the ocean thanks to strong winds. No thunder or lightning, unfortunately. Noah enjoyed nature’s fury, remembering those humid summer afternoons sitting with his mother while the clouds darkened all over White Pine. She’d been fearful of them and Noah, reduced to playing the adult even at a child’s age, had often comforted her while her body shook. Only now did he wonder if there was a reason for her reaction. He’d
