“Oh, nothing.” She flicked a hand. “It’s not my place or anything.”

He grunted. “Okay.”

She messed with the strap some more. “It’s just I didn’t think you’d send her away. I mean, she’s lived in Moose Creek her whole life.”

A flash of annoyance scrunched his face. First Bea and now Marge? Maybe there was one good reason not to tell her.

She had no idea how he’d agonized over this decision. How he felt backed into a corner. He wasn’t sending her away. He was getting her the help she—and his father—needed. It wasn’t like he wanted to do this. It wasn’t like he was happy to be losing his mother only two short years after losing his wife.

He kept his mouth shut and remembered to drive the back way to the church this time.

“I suppose you don’t feel you have much choice,” Marge continued, “since you’re working full-time, and they live so far out of town. Obviously, it would be hard to keep an eye on them yourself.”

He suppressed a sigh. If it was so obvious, why was she surprised?

“And with Bea and Jeremy already living with you, it’s not like you can take in more family members.”

His heart squeezed. Bea had dropped the bomb on Wednesday. They were moving out next weekend.

“Not for long,” he muttered.

“What’s that?” She leaned closer and fluttered her eyelashes at him. “What’d you say?”

He waved a hand. “Nothing. Just . . . Bea and Jeremy got a new place. In Ponderosa.”

Her eyes widened. “Hmm.”

Hmm? What was that supposed to mean? The church parking lot was empty except for Frank’s Suburban. He parked next to it and turned off the engine.

She unbuckled with a thoughtful look on her face. “Now that’s something to think about.”

He slid from his seat and furrowed his brow. Whatever it was, he had the feeling he didn’t really want her thinking about it.

The meeting had been short. Frank had made faces at him whenever Marge wasn’t looking and remarked several times about how nice it was they could just ride over together. Mitch wanted to punch him. They used to do that kind of thing a lot when they were younger. Box and wrestle until they were laughing too hard to continue. Frank had been the brother Mitch always wished he had. He’d have to sit down with him soon and tell him all about the biological brother he now had, as well.

Mitch parked the truck in the carport. Marge had barely spoken on the ride home, which made him nervous. He didn’t mind the quiet or anything—in fact, he rather enjoyed it—but when had he ever known Marge to be quiet?

They walked around to the front of the house.