Yuletide Proposal. Lois Richer

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