Yuletide Proposal

by Lois Richer

“It’s the start of one. Hear me out, Brianna.” Zac stared at her as if she had something smeared over her face. “I’ve worked where the schools become infested with drugs. They creep in and then take over if nobody stops it. Once they’re in place, it’s desperately hard to get rid of a drug problem and loosen their grip on the student population. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

  “So?”

  “So when Cory’s case was thrown at me, I knew I couldn’t ignore it, not when I’m responsible for the rest of the students. He’s a very smart kid, Brianna, but he needs a challenge, something that tests his current beliefs about the world. He needs to be forced to use that brain.” Zac paused, his glance holding hers. “As I understand it, so far Cory’s been involved in misdemeanors, petty stuff—minor theft, nasty pranks, breaking his curfew—the kind of things that have repeatedly sent him to juvenile court.”

  “Yes.” She was ashamed to hear Zac say it.

  “And before you moved here, his last act was to join a gang. Not exactly the remorse a judge is looking for, which is probably why he gave Cory until Christmas to clean up his act and threatened him with juvenile detention if he doesn’t.”

  “That’s what the judge said to me,” Brianna admitted.

  “So you thought you’d move here, and Cory would turn around.” Zac leaned forward, holding her gaze with his intense one. “I’m very afraid that Cory’s not going to find the challenge he needs in Hope, Brianna. Not the way the school is now.”

  Brianna sat back, concern mounting as she absorbed the impact of Zac’s words. She understood what he wasn’t saying. She’d arrived at Whispering Hope Clinic believing her work here would be much easier than her old job. But in the past few weeks she’d begun to question her ability, to wonder if she’d ever get the response she needed in order to help these kids.

  “I know a little about drugs,” she murmured. “I did some practicum work with kids who were using. For most of the clients I saw then, the best I could offer was a listening ear.”

  “Don’t you want to do more for Cory, much more?” Zac remained quiet, waiting for her to assimilate what he’d said.

  In that silence, Brianna recognized the depth of his concern. His brow was furrowed—fingers clenched, shoulders rigid. The Zac she remembered only worried when something was out of his control.

  “Do you think the drug situation in Hope is so bad that Cory’s future is out the window?” she asked, nerves taut.

  “Not yet.” Zac shook his head.

  “Then what are you saying?” she asked, holding back her fear.

  “I’m saying that without something to counteract the drugs—and soon—there’s potential to ruin a lot of lives, including Cory’s. I’m asking for your help to create that counteraction.”

  “How?” she asked cautiously.

  “I’m not sure yet. That’s the problem.” Zac dragged a hand through his short hair, a familiar gesture that showed his frustration with having to go outside himself and his resources to accomplish something. He glared at her, his eyes intent. “When it comes to administration I’m the best you’ll find.”

  “And humble, too,” she teased. Zac glared. “Sorry. Go on.”

  “I can set the rules. I can find f-funding for programs. I can insist the teachers go beyond the usual to meet student needs...” The stutter proved Zac was moving well out of his comfort zone with his plea for help.

  “But?” she prodded, confused by his words and his manner. Belligerent but beseeching.

  “But I can’t get inside their heads.” His eyes glittered with suppressed emotion.

  Suppressed emotion? Cool analytical Zac?

  “I insisted the board hand over student counseling to Whispering Hope Clinic, to you, because the kids need somebody who’s engaged in their world, not a visiting counselor who will listen to them for an hour here or there, then disappear. They’ll see you on the street, in the café, at the grocery store. And they’ll know you are interested in them because that’s who you are. You’re a genuine nurturer, and they’ll recognize that.” He exhaled heavily.

  “Thank you,” Brianna murmured, surprised by his generosity.

  “I’m the authority figure. But you—you’re outside the school system, new in town, fresh from the big city. They’ll accept ideas from you. That won’t be a problem.”

  “A problem for what?” She felt totally confused.

  “For getting rid of the apathy that shrouds Hope. You don’t carry any baggage about Hope.”

  “I don’t? You’re dreaming, Zac.” Brianna glared at him, hoping to remind him of their past.

  “I meant preconceptions about these kids that would block you from seeing potential in them.” Their gazes locked before he looked away. “Knowing you, I’m pretty sure you’re brimming with ideas of what you want to accomplish in your practice. Innovation. Change.” He nodded. “That’s what I want, too.”

  Brianna now had an inkling of where Zac was going with this and she didn’t like it. She did not want to work with him. She did not want to rehash all her old feelings of regret and rejection and get bogged down in them. Mostly she didn’t want to go back to those horrible hours and days after their almost-wedding when she’d struggled with the rightness of her decision to leave Hope and Zac.

  “Just spell out what you want from me, will you, Zac?”

  “Okay, I will.” He inhaled. “I need a plan to get these kids motivated. Hope isn’t like it was when we grew up here, Brianna.” He hunched forward, his face as serious as she’d ever seen it. “These kids aren’t gung ho about their future.”

  “Not all of our peers were when we were growing up, either,” she reminded.

  “Maybe not, but the vast majority of this generation of Hope’s kids have stopped imagining bigger or better. I want you to help me change that.”

  Brianna stared at him, amazed by the passion in his voice.

  “Aren’t you going to say anything?” he grumbled.

  “I don’t know what to say,” she admitted. “It’s a laudable goal and I wish you success, but beyond that, I don’t see what I can do. I’ve already got a lot on my plate,” she reminded. “I’ve barely started at the clinic.”

  “You’ll be busy there. Because you represent hope.” He nodded. “That’s exactly what I want to give these kids, including Cory. Hope.” His voice dropped, his eyes melted. “Please, Brianna. Help me do that.”

  She’d said that to him so many times in the past. Help me, Zac. And every time Zac had patiently helped solve her issue—whether it was schoolwork or peer issues. He even let her bawl on his shoulder when her mom’s controlling threatened to destroy her dreams, though she’d been too embarrassed to tell him the truth about the rift between her and her mother. Yet through all her problems, Zac had always been on her side.

  Until the day before their wedding.

  Brianna veered away from that, back to the present.

  “You have to get back to work and so do I. Let me think about it, Zac.” When he would have protested she cut him off. “You’ve obviously been considering this for a while, but it’s all new to me. I don’t know that I can take on something else until I’ve got my world settled a little better.”

  “What’s your primary objection?”

  “We have a past,” she said bluntly.

  “So?” His chin jutted out.

  “You must remember we seldom agreed on how things should be done.”

  “I remember. And I remember we made it work anyway.” A crooked smile tipped his lips. His grin made her blush.

  “Yes, well.” She coughed, searching for composure. “You’d want to be rid of me after our first argument. I can’t afford any negativity. This is my career and I’ve worked really hard for it.” She tried to soften her words. “It simply wouldn’t work, Zac. I’m sorry.”


  “You could make it work, Brianna. You always had ten irons in the fire and you never had a problem.” His voice dropped to a more intimate level as his gaze searched hers. “The past is over. There’s nothing between us now, after all these years. What happened when we were kids isn’t going to affect me now. How about you?”

  His words stung, though they shouldn’t have.

  Nothing between us after all these years.

  Her fingers automatically lifted to touch the chain that held the engagement ring he’d given her one Christmas Eve, hidden beneath the fabric of her blouse. She recalled the many times she’d been down, on the verge of quitting, and had touched that ring, mentally replaying Zac’s voice encouraging her to focus on what she wanted and go for it. He didn’t know it, but he’d gotten her through so many hard times.

  “Don’t say no, Brianna. Next weekend is Homecoming. It could be the kickoff for a new plan. Think about it until tomorrow,” he begged. “That would still leave us a week to plan something.”

  “Why does inspiring these kids mean so much to you?” she asked curiously.

  “Because of Jeffrey.” His voice was raw.

  She frowned, not understanding.

  “I failed him.” Zac’s tightly controlled voice held fathoms of pain. “I don’t want any more kids on my conscience.”

  His anguish wrenched Brianna’s heart, but the thought of working with him made her knees knock.

  “All I can promise is I’ll think about it.” Brianna rose.

  “Good enough.” He rose, too.

  “Thank you for lunch. It was very nice.” Nice? It was the most interesting lunch she’d ever had. And that’s what worried her.

  “You can help, Brianna.” Zac touched her arm, and then as her skin burned beneath his fingertips, he let his hand fall away. He gathered and stored his things. “Please consider it seriously.”

  Brianna nodded, handed over the package for her mother when he insisted and watched him leave. Her caseload at the clinic left little time to think about what Zac had said until later that night when, after another argument about his curfew, Cory finally went to bed. She tried to talk to her dad but surprisingly he encouraged her participation with Zac.

  “Let the past go, Brianna. Otherwise it will eat you to death.”

  If it were only that easy.

  When he retired and she was alone, Brianna pulled out all the arguments and pieced them together in her head.

  Zac made a good case, but despite his intensity and passion, she had a hunch he hadn’t told her all his reasons for wanting this project. And forget what he’d said about their past being over; their past was a minefield of things not said. Resentment stirred like a boiling cauldron inside her. Zac, no doubt, carried his own grudges. Sooner or later he’d want to see her pay for running out on him.

  Brianna ached to forget the past, but seeing Zac again revived the sense of betrayal she still felt, made worse since Jaclyn had announced her pregnancy. She and Kent were building their future. What was Brianna’s future? Cory would grow up, leave and she’d be alone.

  She knew love like what Kent and Jaclyn shared wasn’t for her. She’d given that up when she’d left Hope ten years ago. That’s why she married Cory’s father, because it didn’t involve her heart. But she was finally doing the one thing she’d dreamed of all her life—counseling kids. She would not be swayed from that goal.

  Like a movie, the night of their rehearsal dinner replayed in her mind.

  You’re right, Mrs. Benson. We’ll stay in Hope for a while. Brianna will work in your interior-design store, maybe even take over for you.

  With those few words Zac had derailed her dreams, broken every promise he’d made her and destroyed her faith in his integrity. He hadn’t known all the details of her battles with her mom, but he had known that Brianna never wanted to return to the store when she’d left after high school, despite her mother’s determination that she do so. And yet, he’d promised her mother Brianna would do the one thing she’d always fought against. He’d betrayed her.

  Now he wanted her help.

  How could she say yes after he’d destroyed the trust she had in him?

  How could she say no when he was trying to help kids—kids like Cory?

  Sighing, Brianna pulled out her Bible and read a couple of chapters. But they were just words. God, as usual, seemed far away. Still, ever hopeful, she reached out.

  “What do I do, Lord?”

  The empty silence left her aching with the familiar feelings of heavenly abandonment. Where was God when she needed Him?

  It was going to be another sleepless night.

  Chapter Three

  There were very few times in his life that Zac regretted his actions. Yesterday’s plea to Brianna ranked right up there.

  He stabbed the button on his phone that paged his secretary.

  “Tammy Lyn, would you get me the number of that counseling outfit in Las Cruces, please?” Zac would find his own solutions. Because somehow, he was going to get that state job.

  “I will. And I have Brianna’s office on line two. She wants to see you between her appointments tomorrow. Do you have a time preference?”

  She was going to refuse. Zac was surprised by the rush of disappointment that swamped him. Had he really been looking forward to working with his former fiancée—the one who’d caused him so much embarrassment?

  And why had Brianna run away on their wedding day? Zac wasn’t sure he believed her mother’s explanation that Brianna had realized she was too immature for marriage.

  “Zac?” Tammy Lyn’s impatient reminder snapped his daydream.

  “Sorry.” He swallowed, firmed his voice. “Three o’clock. I’ve got that board meeting at five.”

  “Okay, we’ll try for that.” Tammy Lyn clicked off the intercom.

  Zac wondered how Brianna would phrase her refusal. She’d probably try to poke around in his brain first, wanting to figure out what he hadn’t said yesterday. Guilt made him shift uncomfortably.

  He hadn’t told her his goal of attaining the state job when she’d questioned his reasons for asking for her help. And he should have. Initiating a program to motivate kids that resulted in higher test scores would certainly improve his chances of getting a job developing curriculum, which sounded pretty selfish. But truthfully, influencing education at a state level seemed to Zac the only viable way he could make lasting changes in student achievement, and do it without the people skills he lacked. Still, when Brianna found out state education was his ultimate goal, she would probably assume he was using her.

  Aren’t you? the nagging little voice in his head demanded.

  Yes, he wanted her help to change things in Hope. But her son would benefit from the changes here. So would a lot of other kids. It had been incredibly difficult for Zac to return to the scene of his biggest shame, to the place where he’d spent a year enduring whispers and gossip about their broken relationship. But he’d come back because of the vast changes that were possible here. If only he could engage these kids.

  On the surface, seeking Brianna’s help seemed stupid. After all, she’d walked out on him, shattered the love he’d had for her when she left him standing at the altar. That love had crumbled to nothing during a year of public humiliation while he fulfilled the teaching contract he’d so stupidly agreed to. But now, ten long years later, they were both back in Hope and the truth was Zac missed the camaraderie they’d once shared when Brianna had been his best friend.

  Zac was finished with love. That year in Hope had made him determined to never again take the risk of giving his heart to someone, to never again risk such public humiliation. He’d spent years honing a protective shell that kept anyone from getting too close.

  But now he and Brianna lived in the same town, shared the same
friends and had a mutual interest in seeing the school do well. Ten years later Zac didn’t want her love. He wanted her help.

  Persuading her wasn’t going to be easy.

  “Zac?” Tammy Lyn’s intercom voice cracked through his thoughts. “The person you wanted in Las Cruces is out until next week. Sorry. If you could give me that stuff for the board meeting tomorrow I could format it and distribute it today.”

  “You’ll have it as soon as I’m finished,” he promised. Mentally steeling himself for Brianna’s negative response, Zac blanked out everything and got busy with his notes for the board meeting. They had to be letter perfect because he was lousy at ad-libbing.

  Getting that state job would be the culmination of all he’d worked for. That it might ensure nobody in Hope ever said “Poor Zac” again was an added bonus. At state level he could make curriculum more relevant and help kids learn. That was Zac’s primary goal.

  If he had to do it without Brianna’s help, so be it.

  * * *

  Brianna walked up the stairs to the district school office the following afternoon with her throat blocked. This was probably the wrong thing to do. She was a gullible fool. But she was going to do it anyway.

  Two minutes later she was seated in Zac’s office where he had hot tea and some coconut cookies waiting.

  “You’re not going to tell me you baked these, are you?” she asked, trying for levity to crack the tension in the air.

  “No.” He smiled as he poured out two cups. “Sorry.”

  “Thank you.” She accepted her tea, sipped it, inhaling the fresh orangey scent that was her favorite. He’d remembered—another surprise.

  “Have a cookie.”

  Brianna accepted one and chewed on it while he talked about people they knew who were returning for the Homecoming weekend. But eventually the small talk became punctuated by too-long silences. It was time to get to the point.

  “I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said, Zac,” she began.

  “I shouldn’t have asked you.” For a brief moment his eyes grew clouded. But then he blinked, and the impassive expression was back in place. “I understand why you have to say no, Brianna. People would talk if we worked together and the gossip—” He rolled his eyes. “Let’s just say I don’t want to go through that again.”