Family Wanted (Willow's Haven Book 1) Read online

  He shrugged, while Savvy giggled. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You can thank us later.”

  Chapter Nine

  If I’d have known then what I know now...

  There was something about the scent of sawdust that invigorated Titus, gave him a sense of accomplishment and pushed aside every ounce of tension. He’d loved the smell ever since he was a boy, when he and his father spent hours cutting and designing Titus’s car each year for the local pinewood derby. It hadn’t taken him long to realize how much he enjoyed building, creating something functional from little more than wood and nails. No matter how stressed he felt, he could count on his love of constructing to clear his mind, give him peace.

  Today was no different. He’d wanted to replace the old porch rails, rotted from water damage, for at least a year but hadn’t made the time. However, as soon as Brodie and Savvy had picked up Savannah, he’d hauled his table saw to the front yard, set up the miter saw on the tailgate of his truck and started a project that, if he worked every spare minute, should be done before the day ended. That should be plenty of time for his place to match the other Main Street homes for next weekend’s Fourth of July activities.

  It’d taken him hardly any time at all to rip out the weathered rails, and Titus wondered why he’d waited so long to start the repairs. The things were an eyesore, and he already felt better, even though the missing rails currently made the front porch look like a mouth with more than its share of lost teeth.

  He wiped the sweat from his brow and took another look at the front of the house. Now that he allowed himself to really examine it, he noticed that much more than the porch rails needed repair. He spotted a couple of shingles curled up at the edges, and the trim desperately needed a fresh coat of paint. Trying to remember the last time he’d put any elbow grease into his own home, he was surprised to realize that it’d been before Nan’s departure.

  The symbolism of him being so eager to fix the place up this morning wasn’t lost on him. For the past three years, he’d been stuck in the past, hanging on to what used to be and shirking even the mere thought of moving forward, of starting anything new, when it came to something that he’d shared with Nan. But that life had truly ended now, the box that sat in his foyer a potent reminder of the fact, and Titus needed to accept that reality and move on. Not only for his sake, but for his daughter’s.

  Ready to cut another set of railings, he grabbed the pencil from behind his ear, measured off the two-by-four and brought it to the table saw. Focused on the task at hand, he didn’t notice the car pull into the driveway. However, after the final cut, he turned...and his breath caught in his throat.

  Dazzling. The word slammed his thoughts and stayed there, an accurate depiction of the vision that had exited the car and stood watching him work.

  Isabella’s hair cascaded in a waterfall of red-brown waves falling past her shoulders. She wore a bright yellow dress that tapered in at the center, drawing attention to her waist and accenting her petite features. Red heels peeked out beneath the long hem, and she wore matching red jewelry. The red lipstick, however, carried Titus’s gaze to her mouth and made him wonder...

  “Hey, Daddy!” Savannah climbed from the back of Isabella’s car, her fabric doll in one hand and some type of Popsicle stick and crepe paper collection in the other. “We learned about Peter, James and John in the sailboat. See?” She held up the craft and, after dragging his eyes away from Isabella, Titus perceived the image of a sailboat.

  “Beautiful,” he said, referring not only to his daughter’s creation but also to the woman now crossing the lawn, her red heels dipping into the soft grass with every step and reminding him of one of those crazy romance movies where the couple crosses a field in a hazy sun-drenched effect, looking far too perfect and far too rehearsed.

  Nothing about Isabella walking toward him looked rehearsed. Her mouth quivered a bit, as though she wasn’t quite sure what to say, and she teetered once when her heel sank a little too deep into the ground.

  “Brodie and Savvy needed to go to the college after lunch, so they asked if I could bring Savannah home.” She raised her right hand, and Titus noticed a bag that appeared to hold a to-go box. He wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t noticed the bag before—he’d been too smitten by the woman carrying it. “Have you eaten?”

  Titus’s stomach growled at the mere thought of food, and he grinned. “Kind of forgot about eating.”

  “We had a big lunch,” Savannah said. “I ate potatoes and green beans and meat, and then I got strawberries and brownies for dessert.”

  Titus’s interest in the to-go bag increased. “I’m guessing y’all went to the buffet in Stockville?”

  “We did,” Isabella said. “And I have to admit I’ve never had that much of a selection of home-style cooking in one place.”

  He laughed. “Yeah, it’s a favorite around here for Sunday lunch, or any other meal, for that matter. Three sisters own it, and they use the recipes that’ve been handed down in their family for generations.”

  “You can thank Brodie for this,” she said. “I’d have gotten you a plate, but I honestly didn’t think of it, and I didn’t know I’d be coming here after lunch.”

  He couldn’t read her face to know whether that had been an inconvenience. “I appreciate you giving Savannah a ride home and bringing the food.”

  “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble at all.” She extended the bag. “I guess you’ll probably want to get started on your lunch.” She seemed hesitant, as though uncertain whether he wanted her here. And she also seemed ready to leave as soon as she handed over the food.

  It made him a little less eager to take it.

  “Miss Isabella, can you stay? You could see all of my dolls and I could show you my swing set.” Savannah’s hopeful tone said Titus wasn’t the only one who didn’t want Isabella to go.

  “I, um...” Isabella glanced at Titus. “I don’t want to intrude.”

  He hadn’t missed her uncertainty at being here, so he wanted to make sure she understood. “You’re not intruding,” he said. “And Savannah would love for you to stay and visit, if you don’t have other plans.”

  “I don’t,” she said.

  “I’m going to put on my play clothes, and I’ll be right back!” Savannah hurried inside, the screen door slamming behind her.

  Isabella continued holding the bag toward Titus, and he now accepted it, their fingers touching with the exchange.

  “Wanna walk inside with me while I get a glass of tea to go with this?” he asked. “Are you thirsty? I’ll fix you one, too.”

  “Sure,” she said, lifting the hem of her dress to more easily make her way up the steps.

  “Hang on, let me get these out of the way.” He kicked a couple of wood scraps to clear the path across the porch.

  “Thanks.”

  He noticed she’d spoken no more than necessary and that she still had a look of hesitation, and he thought he knew why. He didn’t want her doubting whether he wanted her here. “Just in case you’re wondering,” he said, feeling a sense of rightness at letting her know, “Savannah isn’t the only one who wants you to stay.”

  She blinked, her cheeks turning pink as she stopped just shy of the door. “I—thought I’d hear from you yesterday,” she said, and then looked away, as though she hadn’t intended to say so much. But the fact that she’d wanted to hear from him meant a lot and, truthfully, he’d missed seeing her as well, had thought about her ever since they’d parted Friday afternoon.

  If he hadn’t found that package on his porch Friday night, he’d have called her, spent time with her, enjoyed the beautiful weekend instead of being consumed by the past. “It was a rough day,” he admitted. “I’ll tell you about it, but I don’t want to chance Savannah hearing the conversation.” He opened the door so she could enter. “Can you stay awhile?
Maybe we’ll get a chance to talk about it later.”

  * * *

  Isabella couldn’t imagine anything she’d rather do than stay. She’d been nervous showing up without an invitation, in spite of the fact that she’d brought Savannah home. Richard had abhorred anyone arriving at their home without an appointment or invitation. But Titus, in his navy T-shirt and well-worn jeans, both sprinkled with the sawdust that emphasized his hardworking status, looked as though he’d be disappointed if she didn’t say yes, even though he was clearly busy.

  She didn’t want to leave. “Yes, I can stay.”

  His smile, reaching his eyes, said she hadn’t misjudged the invitation. He wasn’t merely being hospitable. He wanted her here, with him and with Savannah. Joy whispered through her at the realization. Then she stepped inside and saw the box on the foyer table, the return address of the charity hospital written in dark, bold print at the top left corner. She knew from their previous conversation that a box of Nan’s things was coming, and she could see now that it had arrived...and was still unopened.

  Titus followed her gaze and heaved a sigh. “Like I said, rough day.” Then he stepped between her and the box, waiting until her attention returned to his face. His eyes drew her in, and she felt her pulse increase as she stood so near to him, her concern for what he’d felt when he received that package washing over her, as well as the desire to say something, do something, to help this man.

  “I don’t want to talk about it now,” he said quietly, as Savannah’s footsteps could be heard from upstairs. “Right now, I want to get a couple of glasses of tea, take them out on the porch and visit with you while I eat this delicious lunch you brought.” He smiled. “Sound good?”

  “Yes,” she said. “Sounds good.” She followed him through the house, decorated in antique furnishings and vintage fabrics of slate blue and golden yellow that embodied warmth and contentment. She loved the style, the feel, of the home and thought it suited the man who lived here.

  While Titus fixed the iced tea, she took the opportunity to continue examining the house. She’d already been captivated by the outside, with the wraparound porch and antebellum style she’d always admired, but the inside was equally compelling. The ceilings were high, at least twelve feet, and the architecture something that even Richard would have respected. Stained glass accented each window, as well as the kitchen light fixtures that hovered overhead like illuminated floral arrangements on display. The boldly carved crown molding beautifully accented the dark cabinetry, desks and bookshelves impeccably positioned throughout the living area and kitchen. “Your home is beautiful.”

  “Thanks,” he said, handing her a glass of iced tea. He picked up the to-go box, some utensils and his own glass, then led the way out of the kitchen. “It was my great-grandparents’ home, and then my folks moved in and raised me here. When Nan and I married, they wanted us to have it.” They reached the front door and he turned his back to the screen to hold it open while she passed through. “They were looking for a reason to move to the beach. My dad got a job offer he wanted to take, and everything worked out with the timing of our wedding and the job offer for them to go.”

  “What does your dad do?” she asked, following him to the front porch swing.

  “He’s a real estate agent.” He laughed. “Never had a whole lot of business around here because people pretty much find a place they like and keep it, or pass it down to the next generation, like this place.” He set his tea on a table nearby and opened the to-go box. “I thought this smelled like chicken and dressing,” he said appreciatively.

  Isabella surveyed the contents—chicken and dressing, cranberry sauce, green beans, coleslaw and a roll. “Oh, Brodie didn’t put anything in for dessert. I should’ve looked in the box, and I’d have gotten you something. The dessert bar was amazing.”

  “I’ve seen it before.” He winked. “No worries. I’m not big on sweets, anyway.”

  She recalled the way he’d eaten that ice cream Thursday evening. “You sure seemed to like ice cream.”

  He’d already taken a couple of big bites of dressing and cranberry sauce, but he stopped eating and held his fork in the air. “Yeah, well, that had more to do with the company and the occasion than with the dessert.” He took another bite. “We had to celebrate Savannah’s success in the pool, and she loves ice cream.” Another bite, and then he looked at her thoughtfully. “You’ve done so much for Savannah since you came to town,” he said. “I hope you know how much that means to me.”

  As if on cue, Savannah pushed through the screen door. She’d changed into a pink T-shirt and denim shorts, and her feet were bare.

  Titus noticed. “Savannah, I’m working with nails today. I’m not so sure it’s smart for you to be out here without shoes.”

  She frowned. “But I don’t like to wear them.”

  He took a bite of green beans, a sip of tea, and then continued. “I know you don’t like them, but you need them, at least until I finish working and get everything cleaned up.”

  Her shoulders lifted and fell with her dramatic sigh. “Is that going to take too long?”

  “Probably the rest of today, but I’m hoping to be done before tomorrow,” he said. “So go put on your tennis shoes, please.”

  “Yes, sir.” She turned and headed inside, her footsteps on the stairs echoing as she hurried back to her room in search of shoes.

  Isabella sipped her tea, the cool liquid deliciously sweet and refreshing. A breeze wafted through the porch, and she thought of how perfect this felt, sitting on a porch swing with Titus and waiting for Savannah to return. She obviously hadn’t been happy about his directive to don shoes, but she’d obeyed him without complaint. Impressed with how tenderly yet fatherly he treated his little girl, she said, “You’re so good with her.”

  “It isn’t that difficult,” he said. “As long as she understands that my corrections are done with love, she doesn’t mind them.”

  “I always wondered what it’d be like, having a child.”

  He’d been gently easing the swing back and forth with his feet as he ate and while they chatted, but he planted his soles and slowed the swing to a stop. “Did y’all try to have children? Or think about adopting?” he asked. “I’ll admit that I wondered, but I didn’t think I should ask. But since you mentioned it...”

  Like many of the other topics she’d broached with Titus, this one had only been shared with one person. Nan. But Isabella did want to talk about it, and she couldn’t think of anyone who’d listen better than the man beside her on the swing. “I wanted a baby immediately, as soon as Richard and I married,” she admitted.

  When she didn’t readily continue, he prodded, “But...”

  “But Richard said he wanted me to get my education, so I did. I got the degree in business administration.” She decided not to tell Titus that Richard refused to let her use the degree to get a job.

  “Okay, so that took four years. But you said y’all were together for ten. What happened after that?” he asked.

  “After that, when I continued to ask about having a baby, he finally told me the truth. He said that he didn’t think I had the kind of background a woman needed to raise a child, since I never had a real mother and the women that had me in their homes weren’t anything like the type of mother figure he’d want raising his children. And he wouldn’t consider adoption, because he said that you didn’t know the physical or emotional genetic history of the child,” she said, remembering how terribly those words had stung. Growing up, she’d been one of those children praying to be adopted. “Those were a couple of the reasons, but the main reason...” She knew Titus wouldn’t like this.

  “Go on.”

  “Richard didn’t like the way women looked after childbirth. He said their bodies were never the same, and he didn’t want that for his wife.” Isabella almost didn’t add the re
st, but she decided if she were telling Titus some of it, she might as well tell it all. “I told him I’d heard of some surgeons who could make certain I looked the same after the baby was born.” Tears threatened as she recalled begging her husband to let her have a child. She swallowed. “He said it wouldn’t matter. I wouldn’t be the same. Then he said that he should be enough for me, that I didn’t need anyone else to love.”

  Titus closed the lid on the box, even though he hadn’t finished his food, and placed it on the table beside his tea. “Your husband was a first-class idiot.”

  Isabella didn’t know what she’d expected him to say, but that wasn’t it, and his bluntness caught her so off guard that she found herself laughing. Hard. “Titus, you—” she giggled “—you really shouldn’t say that.”

  “Just speaking the truth,” he said, but the grin that now played with his mouth said he didn’t mind making her laugh.

  Isabella didn’t mind it, either.

  Savannah scurried onto the porch as if she thought she’d missed something. “What’re you laughing at?” she asked, but apparently just the sound of them laughing caused her to giggle, too, which made Isabella laugh even harder.

  “Your daddy,” Isabella said, pointing to Titus while Savannah hurried to the swing and jumped into his lap.

  “Are you being funny, Daddy?” she asked.

  He kissed her cheek. “I guess I am.”

  She smiled, as though that was perfectly fine in her book. Then she tilted her head and looked at Isabella. “Do you want to go see my dolls now? And maybe my swing set or my playhouse?”

  Isabella placed a hand on her stomach as her laughter subsided. “I sure do.”

  Savannah leaned away from Titus, scanned Isabella’s dress and frowned. “But you have on church clothes. How’re you going to play?”

  Isabella brushed her hand down her skirt. The fabric looked dressy but was actually a cool cotton and very comfortable. “Don’t worry. I can play in this.”