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      MILLS & BOON

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      As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.

      —Isaiah 55:9

      This novel is dedicated to my parents,

      James and Jolaine Bowers.

       God blessed me with you.

      ACKNOWLEDGMENT

      Special thanks to Dr. Patrick Whitlock for his patience in answering all of my medical questions. All mistakes are mine.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Chapter Eleven

      Chapter Twelve

      Chapter Thirteen

      Epilogue

      Letter to Reader

      Questions for Discussion

      Chapter One

      Chad Martin left the Math and Science building at Stockville Community College after his last class Thursday evening mentally reviewing the semester’s syllabus, which he’d spent the majority of class time explaining to the students. Sure, he crammed a ton in the Advanced Biology course, but he wanted them, or rather their parents, to get their money’s worth. And he wanted to prove to the university that he could handle higher level courses in spite of his youth, show them that he could make the work challenging for the students but also entice them to enjoy the learning process. No, he hadn’t planned on being a teacher, but if teaching was what he was doing, he wanted to do a good job.

      He was so engrossed in calculating what he could cover the first week that he nearly missed the movement to his right, the slight shadow crossing the quad at an angle and heading toward the parking lot. The woman wore a midlength dark coat cinched tight around her waist and jeans. Her hair bounced against her shoulders as she moved, and her arms cradled several books to her chest. Small puffs of wispy smoke escaped her mouth as her warm breath hit the crisp January air. Northern Alabama wasn’t as cold as most of the country at this time of year, but it was cold enough to cause her to huddle into herself as she briskly walked.

      It was dark, but the campus lighting cast yellow ovals at sporadic intervals on the quad, and Chad stayed where he was, waiting for her to step inside the next patch of light. There was something so familiar about the way she moved, and he wondered whether he was doing it again—expecting to see Jessica one more time. For six years, he’d occasionally glimpsed someone who looked like her, walked like her, laughed like her. And each and every time, when he garnered the courage to approach the woman in question, he would see that his eyes, his ears had played tricks on him again. Jessica Bowman had walked out of his world six years ago, and he was a fool to think she’d suddenly burst back in.

      But something about this woman…

      Finally, she stepped completely into the circle of light. Then she paused her pace, flipped open the top book in her arms and then ran a hand in her purse and withdrew a pen. She scribbled something on the page, nodded and then put the pen away.

      And he knew. This wasn’t merely another woman who resembled Jessica. After practically every class in high school, when they’d walk to the lockers, her mind would churn over everything that happened in the classroom, and she’d inadvertently remember some little tidbit that the teacher had said, something to do with her homework or any other thing that she didn’t want to forget later. After she made the notation, she’d nod in satisfaction and continue down the hall, the same way this woman did, as she plunked her pen back in her purse and started to walk again.

      Thankfully, the light covered her for long enough that Chad, now moving toward her, saw her completely. Her hair was shorter than it’d been back then but still long enough to suit her youth, with honey strands accenting the shiny chocolate hue. What would she be now, twenty-two? No, twenty-three. Have mercy, it’d been a long time.

      A pale pink scarf circled her neck, its fuzzy length trailing down her back and the fringed trim dangling below the edge of her coat. Her jeans were cuffed, he now noticed, and she wore tennis shoes. She wasn’t dressed showy, like many of the college kids trying to get attention, and quite often trying to get his attention. In fact, she was dressed comfortably and looked more her age, older than the average college student.

      Just two years younger than Chad.

      “Jess,” he said and wasn’t surprised when she didn’t turn around. His voice came out barely above a whisper because his heart was lodged in his throat.

      But he wasn’t giving up that easily.

      “Jessica,” he repeated, maybe a bit too forcefully because she jumped, turned and dropped one of the books from her arms. Arched brows lifted, and those dark, insightful eyes studied him. Obviously

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