Bea stared at the can, then gave Grandpa a sidelong look. Why was Grandma acting so strange? He looked back, his cloudy blue, almost gray eyes boring into her as if trying to tell her something, but he didn’t speak.

Grandpa had a beer now and then, while Bea had never acquired a taste for it. Even if she had, she’d never consider it while she was pregnant. Had Grandma forgotten about the baby? She’d always complained about Grandpa’s occasional Budweiser, but now here she stood, watching Bea expectantly.

Bea set the can down on the counter. “I’m not thirsty right now.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Grandma wiped her hands on a towel and motioned toward the living room. “Why don’t we sit down for a visit.”

Bea smiled. This was more like it. She’d spent many evenings sitting with her grandparents, visiting. Her favorite times were when they would sit out on the porch and watch the sunset reflect off the mountain while they talked, except it was too cold and cloudy for that tonight.

Grandpa Rand carefully lowered his wiry frame into his leather recliner, one of the few nice things he’d ever purchased for himself. Behind him, a wooden shelf sagged under the weight of his Louis L’Amour books, and a sweat-stained cowboy hat hung from a hook on the wall.

Bea nestled into her favorite spot on the couch and brought her knees up to her chest. In a few short months, she wouldn’t be able to do that anymore. Her stomach would be in the way. Or should she say the baby would be in the way?

Grandma settled onto the couch close to Bea. “What are you up to these days? Did you work this morning?”

Bea nodded. “I stayed longer than usual. It was busy today, so they needed extra help.”

“I’m not surprised they needed you, dear.” Grandma patted her knee. “You’ll be running that whole place in no time, I’m sure.”

Bea gave a smile she hoped was at least semiconvincing. Before she’d left the Food Farm this afternoon, MacGregor had said something along the same lines. Not that she’d be running the whole place, but he’d grumbled about how hard it was to find good help these days and hinted he’d be happy to see her move into a full-time position with an eye toward becoming assistant manager.

It would be a good job. Decent pay. Modest benefits. Better than the zero benefits she and Jeremy had now. She’d told MacGregor she’d think about it, but it wasn’t possible. They weren’t going to be sticking around that long. Were they?

“We’ll see,” she said.

“It’d be so handy, wouldn’t it?” Grandma fidgeted with something in her pocket. “So close to home, and you wouldn’t have to worry about running out of milk.”