Chapter 8One of the few pleasures Noah’d found in Cane’s Inlet was the simple joy of walking along a deserted beach, just himself left to the quiet world. At times, he would imagine his mother doing the same, wondering if she looked toward the horizon, hoping to find happiness somewhere other than along these shores. He wasn’t sure she’d ever been truly happy, here or in the isolated mountains of White Pine, or if she’d ever found love. Maybe she’d lived a brand of contentment, her only joy in raising a son she’d disowned only in death.
As he listened to the crash of the ocean, he considered whether Barbara Sanders had been running from a childhood she’d never asked for. Noah seemed to find solace in these waves, even when the surf was rough. But it was calm on this Saturday afternoon, pi
