Lois Richer - Yuletide Proposal

“Yes, Cory said that, too.” Zac leaned back, face inscrutable.

“He did?” She narrowed her gaze. “When?”

“When I talked to him a little while ago.”

“Without me present?” she asked sharply.

“I was acting as guardian for the child, Brianna,” Zac defended. “Not as an enforcer, or policeman—to give him a penalty. I need to get to the bottom of this, and Cory provided some perspective.” He paused. “What I’m going to tell you now is off the record.”

“Okay.” Brianna nodded, confused.

“I believe Cory was tricked into taking something. He said someone gave him a drink. I discussed his symptoms with a doctor friend who works with emergency-room overdoses in Santa Fe. He suggested Cory may have been given a powerful psychotic.” The name of the drug made her gasp.

“That’s a prescribed substance!”

He nodded. “The police tell me they haven’t seen it in town before.”

In spite of the word police, something about Zac’s attitude reassured her, though Brianna wasn’t sure why. “What happens now?”

Zac was silent for several moments. His steady brown gaze never left her face.

“Are you suspending Cory?” she demanded.

“Not at the moment.”

“Then—” She arched her eyebrow, awaiting an explanation.

“I’ve been through this before, Brianna.”

“Through what?” She’d expected anger from Zac. Loathing. Disgust. Something different than this—understanding. “You mean you’ve seen drugs in school before?”

“Yes.” Zac nodded. His jaw visibly tensed. The words emerged in short clipped sentences. “Several years ago I taught a student who was also given drugs without his knowledge.”

“Oh.” She waited.

“Jeffrey had a lot of difficulties at home and at school. The high he got from that one time made him feel he’d escaped his problems, I guess.” Zac shook his head, his voice tight with emotion. “It wasn’t long before he became addicted.”

“I’m sorry,” she said to break the silence. Zac clearly struggled to tell her his story.

“Jeffrey called me the night before he died.” Zac licked his lips. Beads of moisture popped out on his forehead. “I think he was looking for a reason to live, but I couldn’t talk him out of committing suicide.” His ragged voice showed the pain of that failure lingered.

“How sad.” She ached for the anguish reflected in Zac’s dark gaze. He’d always been determined to help students achieve. This tragedy would have decimated him.

“Jeffrey was the brightest kid in the school.” Zac’s mouth tightened. “He’d already been accepted at Yale. He had his life before him, but because someone slipped him that drug, his potential was wasted.”

Brianna didn’t know what to say so she remained quiet, silently sharing the grief that filled his eyes and dimmed their sparkle. Suddenly the earlier awkwardness she’d felt didn’t matter.

“It’s okay.” She offered the soothing response she often used at the clinic.

“It’s not.” Zac’s shoulders straightened. His chin lifted and thrust forward. “It’s not okay at all. That’s why I have to nip this in the bud now.”

“Nip this—I don’t know what you mean.” Dread held her prisoner. Something was going on behind that dark gaze. Would her son be expelled? Would Zac punish her son because of what she’d done?

“I refuse to allow drugs to ruin another young life. Not Cory’s. Not anyone’s.” Zac blinked. His eyes pinned hers. “I’m going to need your help, Brianna.”

“My help?” She gaped at him. “I’ll certainly talk to Cory, get the whole story and help him understand how easily drugs can cause damage we never expect. But what else can I do?”

“More. A lot more, I hope.” Zac rose and began pacing behind his desk, his long legs eating up the distance in two strides. Nervous energy. He’d always been like that. “Let me explain. I came here—actually I specifically chose Hope because school test scores are rock-bottom, the lowest in the state.”

She listened attentively as he haltingly told her of the purpose he’d set for himself since Jeffrey had died. Zac spoke of making a difference, of helping kids find their own potential so that drugs weren’t even a consideration. His words reminded Brianna of his youthful eagerness to teach when they’d both been students at college, when their goals had been the same—to help kids uncover their potential.

“You must have seen the test scores in the files of the students you’ve counseled at the clinic,” he said.

“Yes.” Brianna nodded. “Pathetic.”

“Last year was my first year in this job and it was an eye-opener. I found a major lack of initiative, total boredom and a host of other issues. But I never found drugs.”

Brianna grew engrossed in his story of trying to create change until she glanced at her watch and realized she didn’t have much time to see Cory before her next appointment.

“I’m sorry it’s been so difficult, Zac,” she interrupted, rising. “Though I don’t know the first thing about combating drugs in schools. Education is your field.” His slow smile and those bittersweet-chocolate eyes, glittering with suppressed excitement, made her pause. “What?”

“You know a lot about motivating people, Brianna. You always did, even before you started practicing psychology. Inspiring people is in your blood.” He held her gaze with his own. “I doubt that’s changed.”

Surprised that he’d harked back to a past that could only hold painful memories for both of them, Brianna frowned.

“Remember when there were no funds for our school choir to go to that competition?” Zac’s grin flashed. “You were the one who roused everybody and got them to pitch in and raise money for the trip.”

“You want me to raise money?” she asked dubiously, confused by his excitement.

“No,” he said and continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “When Jaclyn’s sister died, you were the one who made a schedule to ensure her friends would be with her during the first hard days after the funeral. You were the one who helped Jaclyn solidify her goal for Whispering Hope Clinic, and you were the one who kept that dream alive even though your other partner left town.”

“It wasn’t just Jaclyn’s goal. Jessica was my dearest friend. I vowed to keep her memory alive by making sure no other kid ever went through what she suffered because of a lack of medical help. That’s why I came back to Hope, to help kids,” she said.

“I know.” Zac smiled. “You’re an encourager, Brianna.”

What was with the trip down memory lane? It sounded as if Zac was praising her, but that couldn’t be. Brianna had jilted him!

“You’re a motivator who inspires, and you’re very, very good at it. I’ve always admired that about you.”

Admired her? Brianna bristled, irritated that his memory was so selective. The words spurted out without conscious thought.

“If you admired me so much, how come you betrayed me the night before our wedding?”

That was so not the thing she wanted to say to Zac Ender after ten long years. Brianna clapped a hand over her mouth and wished she’d never answered his summons this morning.

“I—wh-what?” Zac’s face was blank, his stern jaw slack.

Brianna had to escape.

“Look, I have to go. I have another appointment.” She grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “Perhaps we can talk about this again another time,” she murmured.

“Count on it.”

The firm resolve behind his words startled her into turning to look at him.

“We’re not finished, Brianna.”

She wasn’t sure whether that was a threat or a promise and she didn’t want to consider either at the moment. For some reason she couldn’t figure out, Zac still got to her. She needed time to get her defenses back up.