In 1916, rainmaker Hank Beecham agrees to return to his hometown of St. Elmo, California, to rescue it from a devastating drought and bring honor to his family's besmirched name.
In this historical fiction, a family is haunted by the battle of Shiloh and it spreads like a plague from father to sons. The protagonist realizes it often rained after Civil War battles, and creates his own arsenal of explosives to become a rainmaker. An original and somewhat odd story, but I always enjoy this author and her stellar descriptions.
"His lanky body appeared pinned together hastily, and his limbs refused to work in unison. Collarless, carrying his coat and hat and a single battered satchel, he wore crumpled pants and shirt, the seams frayed, his clothes pocked with cinder holes...his face weathered as the west wall of a desert barn."
"Hank Beecham could take a sewing machine that had been rusted shut since the Red Sea parted and make it hum again."
"...his wife, who was a pale insubstantial creature, pretty in a way her sister, Ruth Douglass, could never have aspired to, but faded now, stiffened like a white cake gone stale and crumbly."