“Rachel said your garden beds need soil turning before April,” Ethan said, watching the rearview mirror.

“I can come over next Saturday with a flat shovel.”

Martha smiled, her shoulders relaxing back against the headrest as the heater warm air filled the cabin.

“The soil is still frozen three inches down,” Martha said.

“We have time until the middle of March.”

“Then I will put it on the calendar for the second week of March,” Ethan replied.

“I do not mind doing the digging.”