“Glad I could help out with that,” Ezra said modestly. “All part of being a full-service real estate agent.” He gazed around the room, at the worn but sturdy furniture, the wing chairs with their faded floral upholstery flanking the fireplace, the oak dining room set with its scarred tabletop and old-fashioned wobbly chairs, and the massive carved-oak sideboard.

“I’m sorry all your belongings got ruined in that wreck, but I gotta say, this stuff just looks like it’s supposed to be here.”

“You might be right,” Ivy agreed. “I think it’s starting to grow on me.”

“There’s only one thing missing,” he said.

“What’s that?”

He got up and walked to the right of the fireplace, to a small nook lined with bookshelves.

“You need a Christmas tree. And this is the exact right spot for it.”

“What for?” Ivy countered. “It’s just me and Punkin. And I’ve still got so much I want to do to get settled here, a messy Christmas tree is the last thing I need.”

Ezra clutched at his heart, pretending to be shocked. “Do you even realize where you’re living? Christmas tree farms—especially ones that sell Fraser firs—are a major part of the economy in this part of the state. According to the Tarburton Chamber of Commerce, of which I am a proud member, everyone needs a Christmas tree.” He pointed down at the scarred floorboards. “Look. There are gouges in the wood here, and there’s an old water stain. And there’s an electrical outlet right here. I’ll bet you money, this is where the Roses put up their tree.

“Maybe next year,” Ivy said. Why was everyone so insistent that they knew what was good for her? “Come on out to the kitchen. The least I can do after all your hard work is give you something to drink.”

Ezra wrapped his hands around the mug of coffee and leaned down to scratch Punkin’s ears. “Have you guys been out playing in the snow yet?”

“Punkin went romping around a little bit this morning when we went out to feed the chickens, but it was so cold, we came right back inside,” Ivy said. “I was just standing in here looking out at it when you and Jake pulled up with the furniture. It’s so beautiful, all that clean, untouched white. I hate to muddy it up any more by tromping around in it.”

“That’s what snow’s good for,” Ezra said. “Besides, there’s more where this came from. I saw the weather forecast this morning. We’re supposed to get another two or three inches by midweek.”

Ivy hesitated. “Want to take Punkin and me out for a walk in the snow? This is his first time, and I haven’t seen any in years and years.”

“What are we waiting for?” Ezra asked. He pointed down at Ivy’s suede boots with the fake fur cuffs and looked askance. “Are those waterproof?”

“No,” Ivy said, laughing at herself. “These are my city girl boots. Just give me a minute and I’ll change into the same work boots I was wearing earlier.”