Despite her best efforts to shore up her defenses, she was already half in love with Zeke again. If she agreed to his proposal, if she let him woo her, she’d be head over heels faster than the weather could change from cloudy to sunny on a Missouri autumn day.

But what if history repeated itself?

As she’d told Zeke at the hotel yesterday, she’d survived losing him once—but the very thought of facing that trauma again sent a cold chill snaking through her.

So before their tenure at Ivy Hill wrapped up on Thursday, she had to decide how much she was willing to risk in the pursuit of a possible happily-ever-after.

22

OF COURSE, MS. BROWN. I’ll be happy to meet with you on Thursday to discuss the arrangements for the service.” In his peripheral vision, Reverend Wilson caught a movement. He angled toward the door of the Ivy Hill chaplain’s office, cell pressed to his ear.

Kayla Harris hovered on the threshold.

He waved her in as he resumed his conversation. “One o’clock will be fine. Please accept my deepest sympathy on your loss, but take hope in the knowledge that your dear sister is with the Lord.”

As he ended the call, he turned to the girl and offered her a smile. It was heartening to see how she’d blossomed in Ivy Hill’s academically challenging environment.

“Come in, my dear. How are you?” He met her halfway and cocooned her hands between his.

“I-I don’t know.”

At her shaky answer, he studied her more closely. Her shoulders were stiff, her features taut, and her fingers were trembling.

The poor girl appeared to be in acute distress.

“Please, sit down.” He led her to one of the comfortable chairs in the corner of the office. Took the seat across from her. “You seem very worried. Tell me how I can help you.”

She twisted her hands in her lap. “I-I don’t know where to begin.”

“Begin wherever you’re comfortable. Has someone upset you?”

“Yes. Someone I . . . I care about.”

“What happened?”

Tears spiked her lower lashes. “This is hard.”

“It doesn’t have to be. You know you can talk to me about anything. Haven’t I always told you that?”

“Yes, but I . . . I don’t want to offend you.”

“My dear, I’ve been in ministry for many years. I’ve heard more shocking stories than I can count. You can share anything with me. How long have we been friends?”

“Six years. Since we started going to your church and you invited me to come to the after-school program. You took me under your wing from the beginning. That’s why this . . . why it’s so upsetting.”

“It doesn’t have to be. Why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? Talking through an issue can often bring clarity.”