“It was the prettiest slice of land the good Lord put on this earth,” Seventy five years old Hank Adams whispered his voice frail, his eyes glazed over with a faraway look. “did i ever tell you about white pines, son?” Chance held back his impatience and forced a smile.”only about one million times ,Daddy.” Seeing his father’s disappointment, he quickly added,”But i never tire of hearingabout it,you know that”. “is that heat on?” his father asked shifting subjects as he often did these days. He shivered and pulled the two layers of blankets a little tighter under his chin. “you sure that danged furnance is working?