She smiled, and it was a full ear-to-ear smile this time. It wasn’t her big dream or anything, to live in an apartment in Ponderosa, but this was a great place for another new start.

“Best of all,” Jeremy continued, “we can make out anytime we want.”

“Shh.” She smacked his shoulder and pointed to her stomach. “She’ll hear you.”

His eyebrows rose. “He.”

She laughed, but half her mind was stuck on how hard it was going to be on Dad when Grandma and Grandpa moved in, and the laugh rang a little hollow.

“I know it doesn’t have a very good view of the mountains, and there’s no yard”—Jeremy spoke quickly, earnestly—“but the rent is doable and—”

“It’s perfect.” She kissed him on the cheek. “I love it. And I’m sorry we couldn’t bring Steve.”

No pets allowed. Jeremy had been crushed, though his eagerness to get their own place had outweighed his sentimentality about the cat. She’d almost died of shock when Dad offered to keep the frisky feline. “Just for now,” he’d said.

Jeremy spun her around and put his hands on her shoulders. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For choosing me. For bringing home the bacon while I figured out how to do all this. For being the mother of my child.”

She leaned closer. “MacGregor was pretty upset when I gave him my two-weeks’ notice.”

Jeremy moved his hands down her arms. “I bet.”

“I’m going to have to find another job, you know. At least until your client list grows a little more.”

“We’ll see.” Jeremy took a step back and studied her. “But if you do, it should be something you can get excited about this time.”

“Like what?” Her eyebrows shot up. Hot coffee. The question had come out of nowhere.

“Whatever you want.” He cocked his head. “You could do anything you set your mind to.”

Bea’s smile drooped a little. Was that true?

“And what do you want, Bea?” There was no furniture in the apartment yet, so Jeremy sat on the floor and indicated his suitcase for her to use as a chair. “You used to say you were going to go back to school after getting settled in Santa Clara, but then . . .”

Bea plopped onto the suitcase with a sigh. Then? Then everything changed. She got pregnant, and they had to move, and her return to Moose Creek had given her a lot to think about.

“I wish I could do more for Grandma. There’s this thing called social workers for the elderly.”

“You think your grandma needs one of those?”

“Yes.” Bea shook her head. “Well, no. I mean, I think I want to be one. But you have to get a bachelor’s degree.”

“So?”