She shook her head. “If you come, they’ll stay amped up and Ginny will rope you into a bedtime story marathon. We’ll see you in the morning.”
“Night everybody!” Ginny announced.
Jace scooped her up and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. “Good night, Peanut. Don’t forget, it’s wreath making tomorrow, We’ll meet bright and early outside the tree barn after breakfast.”
Tara watched the easy way her sister snuggled into him and thought maybe the kids weren’t the only ones falling for this family.
~*~
“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 MSU?"
Jace repressed a smile at her too casual tone. She didn’t look up, but her hands paused in the midst of the greenery.
"Yep. Forty-five little minutes away. Easy trip home to see family, friends, or tall, leggy blondes. You know, if that makes a difference.”
Ginny pirouetted by, trailing the red ribbon they used for bows. “And you can come home to visit every weekend!”
“I think grad school will keep him a little too busy for that,” Tara warned.
“Actually, I’ve only got one class and thesis hours left, so I only really have to be in Starkville a couple days a week. And I graduate in May. Gotta say, home’s looking pretty attractive these days.”
A wash of pink crept over Tara’s cheeks.
“Oh for the love of Pete, ask the girl out already,” Livia said, returning with more wreath frames.
Jace glared at his sister. “I was getting to it.”
She rolled her eyes. “Seriously, I’m about to dangle mistletoe from a fishing pole here.”
“I saw the
rod and reel in the barn,” Austin offered.
“Austin!” Tara’s blush amped up to match the ribbon, which completely undermined the expression of stern disapproval she aimed his way.
“What?” he shrugged. “I like him. And he checks out.”
“He…checks out?” she asked faintly.
“We had a little man-to-man talk and came to an understanding,” Jace explained.
“Did you now?”
“Austin is the man of the house.”
A new respect mingled with the amusement in her eyes as she looked at her brother. “So he is.”