Family Wanted (Willow's Haven Book 1) Page 5

  Isabella’s throat pulsed as she swallowed. “I don’t think I’m the one to answer that.”

  “But I’m asking you, and I want your answer.”

  “My answer is—” she let the word hang as she apparently considered the right thing to say “—that I think you should pray about it.”

  Definitely not the answer he wanted. Titus pulled his hand from hers and stood. “That’s the thing. I’m done with that, too.”

  Chapter Five

  I didn’t know how to tell you the truth...

  Titus had just left his house and started toward Willow’s Haven when his cell began to ring. He knew who was on the other end before looking at the screen on the truck’s dashboard. Only one person called at 7:30 a.m.

  Sure enough, Mom flashed back at him from the display.

  He didn’t have more than fifteen minutes before he would lose his signal when he reached Brodie and Savvy’s property, but he didn’t expect the conversation to take that long either. What could she say that she hadn’t said before?

  Glancing toward the backseat, he saw that Savannah was paying more attention to her doll than the ringing phone, but even so, he’d choose his words carefully, and he faded the sound to the front then turned the volume on the stereo system down to a minimum before answering. His parents had undoubtedly received the message he left for them last night, and now his mom wanted to try to make things better, the way moms do. Even though Titus would be thirty-one in a couple of months, she still wanted to fix things the way she had when he’d been Savannah’s age.

  Problem was, there was no way to make this better. Even so, he prepared to listen to her try and clicked the answer button on the steering wheel. “Hello.”

  “Oh, Titus,” she said, her voice filled with sympathy. “Your dad and I got your message this morning. We didn’t think to check the machine last night when we got home from church.”

  Titus should’ve thought of that. It’d been Wednesday night. Naturally, they would’ve been at church. A few weeks ago, so would he and Savannah. “I forgot it was Wednesday.”

  She inhaled, probably considering asking him why he hadn’t been at a midweek service, too, but then she must’ve thought better of the idea, because she instead said, “We are so sorry to hear about Nan. You said she’d been sick?”

  Savannah had started singing to Bessie. Titus was glad she was preoccupied so he could have this conversation without her hearing his mother’s words.

  “Kidney failure,” he said, keeping his voice low just in case Savannah wasn’t totally absorbed in the song. She knew that Nan was in heaven, and as far as Titus was concerned, that was plenty. She didn’t need to know the details.

  “Oh, my. How long had she been sick?”

  “At least a year.” The guy from the hospital had told him she’d been there for twelve months before she died. Titus had no idea where she’d been the two years before that, beyond working at the Y, and he assumed he’d never learn. All of his unanswered questions would remain unanswered, unless the package the hospital mailed held any insight into what had happened. And Titus still debated whether he wanted to see whatever was inside.

  “Would you like for your father and I to come visit for a while?” she asked, obviously struggling with what to offer a son whose wife had abandoned him three years ago and then died without giving him or their daughter a chance to say goodbye.

  Titus knew his parents would gladly make the six-hour drive from Orange Beach, on the southern border of the state, to stay with him, his father stepping in to help on the construction site and his mother cooking and taking care of Savannah. But eventually, they’d have to go home, and then he’d be hit with the reality of his life all over again. He’d just as soon deal with it head-on and get it over with. Plus, he didn’t want to snap at his mother the way he’d snapped at Isabella last night. Which was why he was arriving at Willow’s Haven a half hour earlier than usual. He wanted a chance to apologize first thing, as soon as she arrived and before the workday officially started. “I appreciate the offer, Mom, but we’re doing okay.”

  “That’s Granna?” Savannah piped up from the backseat. “Can I talk?”

  He smiled, glad that his little girl had some form of a mother figure to look up to and also glad she hadn’t been paying attention to the earlier portion of the conversation. “Savannah wants to talk to you, Mom.” He turned up the volume and listened as Savannah told his mother about what was going on in her world, starting with the item that hurt the most.

  “Hey, Granna,” she said, “Mommy went to heaven.”

  “I know, dear.”

  Titus listened as his mom reminded Savannah about how heaven was a great place and that her mother would be happy there. He’d told her the same thing, as had Isabella and Savvy. He certainly hoped the knowledge gave her comfort.

  “So, what are you doing today?” his mother asked, apparently to steer the conversation away from Nan.

  “I’m going to work with Daddy, and Bessie’s going with me.”

  “Is Bessie a friend of yours?”

  Savannah released a little laugh. “No, she’s not real. She’s my doll.”

  “Do you like going to work with Daddy?” his mother asked, and Titus suspected it was to make sure she shouldn’t drive up and save the day the way she’d offered. He held his breath and waited for his little girl to answer.

  “Yes, ma’am. I like going to work with Daddy, because Miss Isabella helps me fix Bessie’s hair in the morning, so that her hair can be like mine. And then Miss Isabella fixes mine, too. Sometimes we do pigtails, but other times we do other things.” She leaned forward. “Daddy, what’s that thing Miss Isabella does, the fancy one I like?”

  Titus was glad he remembered. “A French braid.”

  “Yes, that’s it. Granna, it’s a French braid.”

  Titus hadn’t heard Savannah chat this easily with anyone, even his mom, in a very long time, since Nan had gone. And he suspected the change had everything to do with the little chats that had gradually turned into longer talks each morning with Isabella. His gratitude for her appearance in Savannah’s life increased each time he realized what a profound impact she’d already had in her world. And he felt even worse about his abruptness with her yesterday afternoon. She’d only suggested that he pray to answer his problems. It wasn’t her fault that praying was the last thing he wanted to do.

  As if his mother knew his train of thought, she continued, “Miss Isabella. I don’t think I’ve met her.”

  Titus could almost hear the wheels of her mind churning, wondering how Isabella fit into their world. “Is she nice?”

  “Oh, yes, ma’am. She’s very nice. She’s going to teach me swimming, too, but right now I’m not so good.”

  “You’ll get it, dear. Don’t you worry.”

  Titus chanced another glance in the rearview mirror to look at his little girl, nodding her head.

  “I’m going to try again today.”

  “That’s wonderful. Well, let me tell your daddy goodbye, sweetie. Granna loves you.”

  “I love you, too,” Savannah said. “Daddy, did you hear? She wants to talk to you.”

  Titus dropped the volume again and asked Savannah, “Why don’t you sing that song again to Bessie?”

  “The song about the monkey?” she asked.

  “That’s the one,” he said, though it didn’t really matter what song she sang, as long as her attention wasn’t on his conversation with his mother, because he suspected that she had a new subject to conquer.

  After Savannah started singing about a curious monkey, he said, “Mom, I’ll probably lose reception in a couple of minutes.”

  “Okay, dear. But before you go, I want to ask you something.”

  He could tell from her tone that this was going to b
e something that he might not want to hear. “Okay.”

  “How old is this Miss Isabella?”

  He swallowed. “I haven’t asked, but I’d guess late twenties.”

  “Pretty?”

  Very. But he wouldn’t walk into that trap. “Why do you ask?”

  “So she is,” she said. “You know, it sounds as though this Miss Isabella person is filling a void in Savannah’s life.”

  Titus had been thinking the same thing, which made him even more frustrated with the way he’d ended their conversation yesterday. “I agree.”

  “I take it she’s someone you’ve recently met? I don’t recall anyone named Isabella when we’ve visited.”

  His mother never forgot a name or a face. “She just came to Claremont,” he said, and he still wasn’t quite sure why Isabella Gray had selected this tiny town.

  “Right.” She drew the word out, waited a beat and said what was on her mind, the way she always did. “Listen, I know you probably don’t want to hear this. But maybe this Isabella could fill a void in your life, too.”

  Titus was suddenly glad that he was within a mile of Willow’s Haven. He needed this conversation to end. “Mom, I just lost my—”

  She cut him off. “No, Titus Elijah. You didn’t just lose your wife. She left you and our granddaughter three years ago. And I’ll be honest. Your father and I have been praying for someone to come into your life and bring you happiness again. You couldn’t pursue that before because you didn’t know what had happened to Nan and were still hopeful that she’d come back. And your daddy and I admire you for that. But you weren’t meant to be alone, Titus. And Savannah wasn’t meant to be without a mommy. It sounds like she’s really taken with the new lady in town.”

  Titus turned onto the driveway leading to the trailer and was surprised that, of all times, his phone picked now to hold a signal longer than usual. “Yes, Mom, I think she is.”

  “I’ve often wondered if, sometimes, God doesn’t use children to show us what’s what,” she said, and blissfully, her voice started breaking up.

  “Mom, I’m losing the signal now. I’ll call you back soon. Love you.”

  “Love you, too,” she said, “but I still want to talk about...”

  The display blinked, and the signal was gone.

  Titus heaved a big sigh, glad that the first uncomfortable conversation of the morning was over. Then he looked ahead to see that Isabella’s car wasn’t yet parked at the trailer. Good. That’d give him a little time to prepare for uncomfortable conversation number two.

  * * *

  After Titus’s brusque departure yesterday afternoon, Isabella didn’t expect him to want to speak to her this morning. In fact, she suspected that he’d probably bring Savannah early, before she arrived, so that he wouldn’t have to see Isabella before he started working. That’s what Richard would’ve done. If Isabella ever said or did anything that disappointed him, he’d ignore her until she ended up apologizing, often when she couldn’t even remember what she’d done to earn his disappointment.

  So she was surprised when she neared the trailer to see that Titus had arrived early but hadn’t started working. And definitely wasn’t ignoring her. In fact, he lounged on the front steps, his elbows resting on the top step and his long legs, encased in well-worn jeans, stretched out in front of him as he watched her park her car.

  The sleeves on his navy work shirt were rolled up, exposing tan forearms while also emphasizing sturdy biceps hidden beneath the fabric. A breeze played with his hair, and the morning sunlight seemed to showcase his eyes, lifting the flecks of gold from the brown and green.

  Riveted by the image before her, Isabella forgot to put the car in Park and slammed her foot on the brake when it moved too close to the trailer. And, scarily, too close to the man sitting on the deck. She stopped mere inches away from Titus and knocked over a pile of firewood. Logs went rolling everywhere.

  But Isabella wasn’t concerned about the wood. Have mercy, she could have hit Titus.

  He’d jumped out of the way in the nick of time, and his wide eyes and tilted head said she’d probably caused a nice surge of adrenaline to kick in. Embarrassed, she shrugged and attempted to act as though she wasn’t sure how it happened. Truthfully, she knew exactly what happened. She was captivated, once again, by Nan’s husband.

  She’d worked very hard throughout yesterday and last night to remind herself to think of Titus that way. As Nan’s. Because he obviously still had a hard time thinking of himself in any other light. Why else would he find it so difficult to open the box of her things that the hospital would send? He didn’t want their marriage to be over, even though he hadn’t seen her in three years. Even now, with the news that she’d passed on, he still felt committed to Nan. And Isabella understood. She’d loved Nan, too, and she still missed the friendship they shared, even if Nan hadn’t been completely honest.

  But why was Titus apparently waiting for Isabella now, after he’d been so short with her when she’d suggested he pray for answers?

  Only one way to find out.

  Grabbing her purse, she climbed from the car and took a step toward him, but her heel caught on the hem of her skirt, and she ended up tripping forward almost as suddenly as her car had stopped. One hand still clutched the strap of her purse, and the other reached forward expecting to hit the ground. But everything came to a halt when she found herself in those strong arms she’d admired a moment ago.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice a deep rumble as his woodsy, masculine scent once again teased her senses. “Are you okay?”

  No, her mind whispered, I’m still falling, and I don’t want to fall for any man again, even you—especially you—you’re Nan’s ex. But then she harnessed the truth and answered, “Yes, I’m okay. Just clumsy.” She reached forward to free her shoe from the skirt and noticed that he still held her, balancing her in case she did actually drop into a pile of mush at his feet. Feeling her cheeks grow warm, she straightened and took the slight step necessary to reluctantly ease her way out of his embrace. “Thanks. I’m not sure what happened.”

  “I’d guess you’ve got a rush of adrenaline causing a bit of shock,” he said smoothly, soothingly, as though she was the one who’d nearly been hit, and when Isabella raised her eyebrow at his quick assessment, he explained, “Happens to me every now and then, usually when I lose my footing on a roof, or when I drop a nail gun, or—” he grinned “—when I nearly get hit by a car.”

  “I am so sorry.”

  “Actually, that’s why I’m here,” he said. “To tell you I’m sorry.”

  Isabella took a wobbly step and realized that it wasn’t merely her skirt that had caused her loss of footing and that he was probably right. Her knees felt like jelly, as though she was suffering from that adrenaline rush he mentioned. But she wasn’t certain whether it’d come from the near miss of the car or the near proximity of the man.

  He saw her falter and wrapped an arm around her again. “Here, let me help you to the deck. You spook kinda easily, don’t ya?”

  “I guess so.” How would she ever get a grip on her heart around him? Isabella couldn’t help but compare the way he treated her to the way Richard had. Richard would have seen her stumble as a sign of weakness, of something that she should work on and gain control of, but Titus saw it as an opportunity to offer her support.

  She could get used to being treated like this.

  He’d started leading her to one of the deck chairs, but then Isabella noticed the wood that had once been a neat stack beside a fire pit and now looked like someone had vandalized the place.

  “I need to clean that up before Savvy gets here,” she said. “And I should back the car up to the right spot.” She hadn’t even thought to put the thing in Reverse and get it away from the deck. Isabella was embarrassed that she’d been so preoccupied an
d certainly didn’t want to explain what had held her attention at the time.

  “I’ll pick it up,” he said, stepping toward the wayward wood. “I’m dressed for it. You’re not.” He indicated her skirt and heels.

  But she wasn’t about to let Titus clean this up on his own. “I can work in this.” To prove it, she lifted a log and placed it where the stack had been.

  He picked up two of them and put them beside her single one, then continued stacking them up two or three at a time, while Isabella focused on helping...instead of noticing how easily he handled the heavy logs. “I haven’t seen this side of you yet,” he said, putting three more logs on the pile.

  “What side?” she asked, adding another one.

  “The stubborn side.”

  She glanced up to see him smiling. “I’m not stubborn,” she clarified. “I just don’t expect someone else to clean up my mess.”

  They’d both ended up at the stack at the same time, and he resituated the logs to keep them steady, then paused. “There’s a reason for that, right? Something to do with your ex?”

  She showed him her palms, covered with wood bark that flaked away each time she picked up a log. “He wouldn’t have been willing to get his hands dirty.”

  One eyebrow lifted, and Titus smirked. “Some guys are like that,” he said. “Typically, it’s the ones with a lot of money in the bank.”

  “Money isn’t everything.” Richard’s money had never been important to her. She’d simply wanted him to love her the way she was, without feeling the need to change her into what he wanted her to be.

  “It isn’t everything,” he agreed, “but it does help.” Titus grabbed the last of the logs. “When Nan left, the construction industry had hit an all-time low. And I’d spent what cash we had on the truck because I had actually thought that business would be picking up when it headed south.” He put the logs on the top of the stack. “I didn’t know how we were going to make it through the year financially, and I’d told her that the week before.”