“There’s snow in those clouds,” Tara declared.
Jace followed her gaze to the slate gray sky. “If it happens, it'll be the first white Christmas in seventy-five years. There are pictures of my grandpa as a boy from the last one. He built a snowman as tall as he was. Just over there in front of the house.”
"Is he still living?"
"Oh yeah. Fit as a fiddle."
She turned her attention back to the wreath frame, nimbly weaving greenery into the wire. "Why doesn't he live at the farm?"
"Well, it's heavy work. Hard on the body. So Grandma forced him into retirement and my dad took over. Eventually it'll come to me. Well, me and Livia, but I’m much more into the management of the land. That's what I'm in grad school for, actually. Forestry and land management at Mississippi State."
"You're at MS
