Once the decision had been made to relocate—temporarily—to Moose Creek, she had taken her time packing up their small apartment. Their rent was paid through September, so there’d been no need to rush. Jeremy had helped her decide which few things to keep and which to give away, but he’d been strangely quiet about the whole moving thing, choosing instead to talk about the baby this and the baby that and the baby’s name and the baby everything.

She loved how excited he was. Honest. But the queasiness in her stomach and uncertainty in her heart kept her from enjoying all the planning as much as Jeremy did. What was her dad going to say when he found out she was pregnant?

“Tomorrow’s Monday, so you should be able to call and make an appointment, right?” Jeremy glanced her way with eager eyes as if he knew she’d been thinking about the baby.

Bea shrugged. “We’ll see.”

“You have to go to the doctor.”

“I will.” She messed with the buttons on the dash, searching for a new radio station. “But there’s no hurry. Dad doesn’t even know yet.”

“You’re not telling him tonight when we get in?”

“Uh . . .” She hesitated. The baby wasn’t going anywhere, and she wouldn’t be showing for weeks. Plus, they currently had no means to actually pay for a doctor visit. No sense in freaking her dad out right off the bat. “I want to keep it between us a little longer.”

“Okay.” Jeremy didn’t sound convinced.

He turned left off the interstate, and Bea stiffened, her heart sagging at the sight of landmarks she’d known for years, tainted now by loss. The Prickly Pear trailhead where she and her mom used to go hiking. The wooden Heifers 4 Sale sign along the highway where she would take her mom for a picture every Mother’s Day for laughs.

Bea’s breathing became shallow, and she fought to keep control. Nothing was the same anymore. Not without Mom. It was a mistake to come back here.

Jeremy wrinkled his nose. “What’s up with the country music?”

She blinked. Blew the air from her lungs. It didn’t matter how she felt about it, there was no turning back. They had nowhere else to go. “We’re almost there, that’s what.”

If the roadside signs didn’t indicate Moose Creek was only a few miles away, the radio would. Moose Creek picked up exactly three FM radio stations: two country and one classic rock.

Jeremy groaned at a song about a big green tractor. “I can’t stand this stuff.”

“You’ll get used to it.” She lifted one corner of her mouth. “And I should probably warn you my dad is a big fan.”

Jeremy ran a hand through his thick sandy hair. “One more strike against me.”

“There aren’t any strikes.”