especially their promises. So she waited until he’d finished, took the seat he indicated and accepted the plate he offered.
“This is about Cory, isn’t it? I did talk to him and he still denies deliberately using drugs.”
“I know. We’ll get to that,” he promised. “For now let’s eat.”
She took a bite. Chicken salad—her favorite.
“This is really good. I’ve been to all the food places in town and I never saw this on the menu.” Brianna savored the hint of lime. “I haven’t had a decent chicken salad since I left Chicago. So where in town did you get it?”
“I made it,” Zac answered.
“You?” She stared in disbelief. “But you never cooked.” That was a stupid thing to say. In the past ten years, Zac had probably done a lot of things he never used to, just as she had.
“The cook at the restaurant where I worked couldn’t read. I taught her. She taught me how to make stuff like this.” He shrugged. “You used to eat chicken salad a lot in college. I figured you might still like it.”
“I love it.” As thoughtful as he’d always been, Brianna mused as she bit into a roll. She frowned, then held it up, looking at him with eyebrows raised. “This, too?”
“Nope. Sorry.” He shrugged. “Just not that talented.”
“Thank goodness.” She made a face. “I was beginning to feel intimidated.”
“Hardly.” He poured a cup of iced tea from a thermos he’d brought. “Nobody intimidates Brianna Benson.”
Brianna stared into Zac’s face, unsure of whether he’d meant that as sarcastically as it sounded.
“How is your mother, by the way?” he asked.
“Fine.” Brianna let his previous comment go. Zac was always sincere. If he were trying to get a dig at her, he’d do it openly. “She told me you’ve stopped to see her several times.”
“I go to the nursing home a few times a week to visit Miss Latimer. She was so good to Mom before she died that I try to repay the favor.” For a moment Zac peered into a distance as if remembering the sweet gentle mother who’d encouraged him through countless surgeries after a car accident that had killed his dad and left five-year-old Zac with multiple injuries. “How is your father?” he asked. “I haven’t seen him lately.”
“Dad’s doing better since his heart attack. He visits Mom a lot.” Brianna didn’t add that she didn’t understand why her father went so faithfully when it seemed all her mother did was carp at him.
“I’m sure he’s glad you’re back.”
“I guess. It seems weird to be living at home again, but Cory does the yardwork and I try to keep the house up. We’re managing.” She finished her salad and sipped her tea, scrounging for the courage to ask the hard questions. Finally she just blurted it out. “Why are you here, Zac?”
For a moment she thought she saw regret rush over his face. Which was silly. Granted it had been years, but she’d pushed into adulthood with Zac and grown to understand him. He was the type of man who never regretted his decisions. He thought through everything, weighed the pros and cons and made his choices only after he’d done a complete analysis. He didn’t have regrets.
So what did he want with her?
“What did you mean when you said I’d betrayed you?” Zac looked straight at her and waited for an answer. A frown line marred the perfection of his smooth forehead.
“It doesn’t matter. Let’s forget the past and deal with now.” Brianna took control of the conversation, desperate to avoid delving into the past again. “You want to find out who is giving out drugs and stop the spread of them in the school. I get that.”
“Oh, I want a lot more than that, Brianna.” Zac’s voice oozed determination. “I want the students in Hope’s schools to shake off their apathy and start using the brains God gave them. I want them to begin looking at the future with anticipation and eagerness.”
“But—” Brianna closed her lips and concentrated on listening. When Zac became this serious it was better to let him just say it.
“Do you know that less than one percent of the students graduating from Hope High School go on to college?” Zac huffed his disgust. “And no wonder. They have no interests. There’s no choir, no debate club, no science club, no language club. Everything’s been discontinued. And regular class attendance is a joke. That’s what I want to change.”
Brianna blinked at Zac’s fierce tone. “Okay, then.”
“And I want you to help me do it.”
“Me?” She could say no more because he interrupted again.
“I am not a motivator, Brianna.” Determination glittered in his eyes.
“That’s not true,” she said firmly. Zac had motivated her time after time when he’d tutored her to win a college scholarship and all through the courses that followed. You can do anything you want, he’d repeatedly insisted.
“If there were even a spark of interest, I could work with that.” He frowned at her. “But throw drugs into the mix and the challenge expands exponentially. I need a big change, something that will grab the students’ attention.”
Brianna didn’t know what to say. Zac sounded so forceful, so determined. Intrigued by this unexpected side of him, she decided to hear him out.
“I know you haven’t been here long, but think about the kids you’ve seen at the clinic.” Zac’s brown eyes narrowed. “Have you spoken with any who are excited about their future?”
“Uh, no.”
“No.” Zac’s cheeks flushed with the intensity of his words. “The world is theirs for the taking but they don’t care. They’re completly unengaged. Truthfully, so are most of their teachers. They don’t want to be, but you can only live with apathy for so long before it seeps into your attitude.” He exhaled and stared straight at her. “What we need is something to ignite interest so kids, including Cory, can get excited. That’s the only alternative I know to the pervasiveness of drugs.”
Brianna blinked. Wow. The old Zac had not been a man of words. This was the longest speech she’d ever heard him give and his passion was evident.
Of course she knew all about Zac’s teaching ability, not just from firsthand experience when he’d patiently tutored her, but she’d seen it while they’d studied for their undergrad degrees. Over and over she’d witnessed the way he’d throw himself into explaining a subject. In those days he’d never accepted her praise or seen his ability to instill interest as unique, but it was his skill as a teacher that had taught her to focus on what she wanted and channel her energy into getting it. He called her a motivator back then, too, but he’d been an encourager for her.
If only Cory could find someone like—
Zac.
In a flash of understanding Brianna realized that Zac was exactly who Cory
