“Evening, Mitch.” The officer jerked a thumb over his shoulder, then hooked it in his gun belt. “Somebody parked the wrong way in front of your house.”

“It’s the easiest job in the history of jobs.” Bea snuggled closer to Jeremy, thankful her dad had switched the twin bed that had been in her room for the queen bed in his. “It wasn’t too bad when I worked there before. I kind of liked it. And it would only be part-time.”

Jeremy spoke softly into her hair. “But what about the baby? Aren’t you supposed to take it easy?”

She frowned. Only seven weeks pregnant and the baby was already dictating her life?

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m supposed to do,” she said. “This is all uncharted territory.”

But she knew one thing: they needed to make money. She’d googled “how much does it cost to have a baby” the other day and nearly hyperventilated. It seemed an impossible amount. And she knew another thing: she would go crazy hanging around the house all day. Grandma June had been right about that, even if she had called Bea by the wrong name.

“Maybe I should work there.”

She stiffened. “Jeremy.”

They’d talked about this already. Sixteen of the seventeen hours from Santa Clara to Moose Creek had been used up talking about what they were going to do now. What the plan was. How they were going to make it work. Jeremy had big dreams about starting his own company, being his own boss, and Bea was committed to helping him achieve his goals. That’s what a good wife was expected to do. That’s what Mom always did.

She and Jeremy had agreed they would stay with her dad for a maximum of three months so Jeremy could focus on researching ideas and methods and come up with a business plan. They had also agreed it would be ideal if she could earn some money in the meantime. A part-time job at the Food Farm wouldn’t provide health insurance, but at least it would be something.

“I know we had a plan,” Jeremy said. “But your dad—”

“Don’t worry about my dad.” Bea relaxed and nuzzled Jeremy’s neck. “He’s just a little overprotective.”

“I don’t think he’s very happy with me.”

“It’s our life. Not his.”

“I told him I had a few ideas about what to do now, and he said, ‘You can’t eat ideas.’”

“Well, he’s not wrong.” She shrugged. “You can’t.”

Jeremy tensed. “I need you on my side here, Bea.”

“There are no sides.” She kissed his ear, hoping she was right. Hoping he was just being paranoid. Dad might be thinking I told you so now, but he would be impressed when Jeremy launched his own company.

Right?