This book is dedicated to the men and women of

       our Armed Forces and their families—who put their lives on the line for our freedom every day.

      We can never thank you enough.

      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

      CHAPTER FOURTEEN

      CHAPTER ONE

      SHANNYN SMITH heard the door open but didn’t dare tear her eyes from the column she was adjusting. “Good morning,” she said to the figure she knew was in front of the reception counter. There was a glimpse of muted green in her peripheral vision as she input the last series of numbers. “I’ll be right with you.”

      She turned in her office chair, put a stack of patient files on the desk and clicked the mouse, minimizing the table and bringing up today’s appointment schedule. Of all days for their receptionist to call in sick, forcing her to fill in. She had monthly reports due. “And you are?”

      When no one answered, she lifted her eyes. And the world started to spin dangerously. Dark hair. Green eyes. The khaki color of army combats.

      Jonas.

      “Sgt. Kirkpatrick to see Ms. Malloy,” he answered brusquely. But she knew he recognized her too when his Adam’s apple bobbed up, then down as he swallowed hard.

      “Jonas,” she whispered. That was all. She couldn’t bring herself to say more, not with him standing in front of her as if he’d materialized from a dream.

      Six long years. Six years since he’d said goodbye to her. Six years since he’d been transferred to Edmonton, leaving her behind here, in Fredericton, New Brunswick, and never looking back.

      “Hello, Shannyn.”

      His words were cold and impersonal. Shannyn knew she couldn’t expect anything different, nor did she want to. It had been so long since they’d seen each other. He’d moved on. Perhaps even married. Just because the shock of seeing him made her heart give a little flutter, didn’t mean it did the same for him. And simply seeing him now suddenly complicated everything.

      A counter separated them, which was a good thing, Shannyn realized. On the heels of her shock came an irrational spurt of pure joy in knowing he was alive. Despite how things had ended, she’d wondered at times where he was, or if he’d been killed or wounded. The elation of seeing him in the flesh shot through her veins. Yes, it was good that the reception counter was there. If not, she’d have been tempted to jump up and give him an impetuous hug of relief. That would be vastly inappropriate. They were old lovers, a flash from the past. And that was all they would remain. She’d worked too hard to build her life after he’d moved on, so she remained firmly in her seat. He certainly hadn’t cared enough to keep in touch, had he? Not a single letter or phone call. Right now it shouldn’t matter in the least that he was standing in front of her.

      Except it did.

      “You look well,” she managed, trying a professional smile that fell a little flat as it encountered his stern expression.

      He looked amazing, in fact. His hair was military short, but still thick and sable colored. His eyes were large, a beautiful shade of moss green with thick black lashes. When they’d met, it had been his eyes that had been the clincher. It had been his eyes that had stayed with her all this time, making it impossible for her to forget completely.

      His tall, firm body was dressed in everyday combats, nothing special, even though he was neat as a pin. She noticed the three stripes on his sleeve. When he’d gone back to Edmonton, Alberta, he’d been a private with his eyes set on being an elite soldier. The best of the best. Obviously his career had progressed. Time had passed.

      “Is Ms. Malloy running behind?”

      Her weak smile faded and she recoiled. That was all? She hadn’t expected old-home week or anything, and didn’t want it, either, but pleasantries would have been appropriate under the circumstances. Some acknowledgment that he remembered her.

      Clearing her throat, she looked up at the screen. “About ten minutes, that’s all. You can have a seat in the waiting room.”

      He turned from the counter without a word, walked toward the blue padded chairs, and Shannyn stared, her stomach tumbling.

      He was limping.

      A million thoughts flooded her brain all at once. The overriding one was that he’d been injured, and momentarily all her resentment at his nonexistent reception evaporated. Somehow, somewhere he’d taken “fire and blood”, and his blood had been spilled. In that split second she imagined it leaking out of his body and soaking into the dry desert earth. Where had he been? In the Middle East, like so many of the Canadian troops? It seemed all they heard of nowadays were the small skirmishes that had devastating results.

      On automatic pilot she let Geneva Molloy know that her next appointment had arrived. And what was he doing back here? The last she’d heard, he’d been stationed in Edmonton with his battalion of the Princess Pats. So why was he back at Base Gagetown, after all this time?

      She stared at the back of his head, her earlier work forgotten. She could hardly go up and ask him about it, could she? He’d already been cold and dismissive. Hardly inspiring a heart-to-heart between them.

      She discovered it was a conversation she didn’t want to have. After years of wondering what it would be like to see him again, to tell him the truth…it was surprising to discover it was not what she wanted. Uppermost in her mind was simply the preservation of the life she’d built for herself.

      She’d done what she had for good reasons. To forget that, to be tempted to engage with him, would mean everything would change. The shock of seeing him face-to-face made that abundantly clear. Everything she’d done in the past six years—her silence, her going to night school, running this office—it had been for the best of reasons. She owed nothing to the cold stranger who had suddenly appeared today. Injured or not. He was the one who’d left her behind. He was the one who had decided his career was more important than what they had together.

      “Shannyn. You okay?” Carrie Morehouse, one of the therapists, put a hand on Shannyn’s shoulder. “You’re in another world.”

      “I’m so sorry.” Shannyn straightened and exhaled. “What do you need, Carrie?”

      “Mrs. Gilmore’s file. Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

      At that moment Geneva Malloy’s voice came through the far door. “Sgt. Kirkpatrick? I’m ready for you now.”

      Jonas stood, and without a backward glance at Shannyn’s desk, went through the door with his physiotherapist.

      “Hey…‘Kirkpatrick’.” Carrie paused, then pierced Shannyn with a questioning look. “Isn’t Kirkpatrick the name of—”

      Shannyn confirmed it with a twitch of her eyebrow.

      Carrie grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it close, plopping down. “Then it is a ghost.”

      “He’s very real, I’m