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

  Titus couldn’t deny her sincere assessment. She’d nailed it. “You never got angry with Him? With everything you went through growing up? At all of those orphanages and foster homes you told me about?”

  Her mouth lifted in a slight smile. “I couldn’t,” she said. “I needed God too much to get mad at Him. Most of the time, the only positive things I had to cling to were the tiny snippets that I’d learned about Him on those rare visits to church. I knew that He loved me, even when it seemed no one else ever would. I needed to know that. I think all children need to know that someone, somewhere, loves them. I still remember the very first Bible class I attended. It was Easter Sunday, and I guess I was about six, probably Savannah’s age.”

  Titus tried to picture Isabella as a young orphan brought to church by the shelter or foster home where she lived. He imagined her sad eyes, as well as her desire to know that someone cared, and it pierced his heart.

  “The teacher had placed a coloring page at everyone’s seat. I’ll never forget it had a cross in the middle.” She smiled. “I colored it purple, but the teacher didn’t correct me. She just said that I did a great job coloring. I didn’t get a lot of compliments back then, so that one meant a lot.”

  Again, he imagined Isabella at Savannah’s age, sitting in a classroom and happy that the teacher had noticed her paper.

  “Then she talked about Jesus dying on a cross, and she said that He did that because He loved us. She sat in front of the class and mentioned each of us by name, you know, like ‘Jesus loves Lacy. And Jesus loves Jonathan. And Jesus loves Isabella.’” They’d nearly reached the fountain, and Isabella gazed at the splashing water as she added, “I’ll never forget the way my heart felt when she said that, that He loves me.”

  “I can’t imagine what that was like for you.” He couldn’t remember a time when his parents didn’t tell him often that he was loved, not only by them but also by God. “No child should have to wonder whether they’re loved.”

  She continued looking at the fountain, and Titus wondered if it was because she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it together if she looked his way.

  “After that Sunday, I knew that even if times seemed tough, He was still there and He loved me. I just had to have faith that He’d see me through.”

  The intensity of their conversation pressed down on Titus with the weight of a boulder, much more forceful than any emotions he’d shared with anyone else over the past few years. He thought about how mad he was with God. And the fact that he still had a hard time thinking about praying to Someone who’d allowed Savannah to be so hurt. “My faith must not be as strong as yours,” he admitted, knowing he wasn’t ready to let God back in his life yet.

  “If it were just you, it wouldn’t be difficult, would it?” she asked. “You’re mad at Him because you think He should have spared Savannah from being hurt. But the things I went through in the past have actually made me closer to God now, more dependent on Him. That may be what will happen with Savannah, too. When I had a hard time, I had faith that God would be there.”

  They’d reached the fountain, and only one of the wrought iron benches surrounding it was vacant, so Titus led her to that bench and sat while he thought about what she’d said. “That’s a lot of faith for a kid to have.”

  “I’ve always found that children have an easier time with faith than adults. It’s simpler for them to believe something they can’t see, don’t you think?” she asked, as a few geese spotted the brown bag between them and waddled over squawking loudly.

  “Yeah, it is.” Another ripple of animosity toward God trickled down Titus’s spine. He needed to get his mind off Nan and the unending disappointment, so he opened the bag and held it toward Isabella. “They’re acting hungry, even if I’m sure they’ve been eating all afternoon.”

  She grabbed a handful of bread and tossed it toward the geese nearing her feet. Sure enough, the birds aggressively went after the tiny pieces as though they hadn’t eaten in a week, while Isabella grinned at their assault.

  Titus was thankful for her smile. He needed it now, needed something to remind him that life could go on. Plus, that smile reminded him of Savannah’s smile earlier, and the beautiful laugh he’d heard from her at the ice-cream shop. Everything could be okay again. He just had to keep telling himself that and believe it. Somehow, as he sat beside Isabella, he sensed that it might be true.

  “I always wondered what this would be like,” she said, while the geese continued squawking and gobbling the bits of bread.

  He was grateful for the change of conversation. “Feeding geese at the town square?”

  “No,” she said, “being a part of a small town. Seeing how people live and enjoy themselves without all the bright lights and high price tags.”

  Another glimpse into her past, and Titus tucked it away with the other tidbits he’d learned. “And what do you think?”

  “It’s as wonderful as I imagined,” she said, her voice wistful, depicting the type of longing he’d seen in her eyes when she’d looked at Jacob earlier.

  Since her attention was focused on the birds gathering around for the crumbs she tossed their way, Titus took advantage of the opportunity to take in the beauty of the woman who continued to surprise him and touch his heart. Her hair had been damp from the pool when they arrived at the ice-cream shop, but it’d dried into long auburn waves. If she’d had any makeup on before, it was long gone, but that didn’t take away from her natural attractiveness. She had a classic, girl-next-door appearance, a combination of pretty and sweet...with an adorable batch of freckles that made her even more endearing. Yet Titus knew that before she came to Claremont, she’d experienced big-city life, those bright lights she’d mentioned earlier.

  Without thinking about how his question would sound, he blurted, “Why did you come here?”

  Her eyebrows rose, her face filled with surprise, and she looked as though he’d crossed some kind of line. And again, he was reminded that he hadn’t had a lot of one-on-one time with a female in way too long.

  “Sorry,” he said. “Too personal, right?”

  But before she could answer, Dee and Emmie Gillespie neared their bench. Mitch and Kate Gillespie’s daughters were easy to recognize, with red hair like their father and a surplus of energy that matched the vibrant hue. Titus hadn’t noticed Mitch and Kate sitting on a bench on the opposite side of the fountain, but he did now, and he waved at them while he waited to see what the girls wanted.

  “Hey, Mr. Titus,” Dee said. She was six, the same age as Savannah. They’d had the same kindergarten teacher last year. Emmie was a couple of years younger.

  “Hey, Dee, how are you?”

  “I’m fine,” she said, her mouth sliding to the side as if determining how to ask a difficult question.

  He waited, but when she didn’t readily start talking, he asked, “Were you looking for Savannah? Because she went to the toy store with Abi Cutter.”

  “No,” Dee said. “We weren’t looking for her.”

  Emmie, seeing her big sister wasn’t getting to the point, interrupted. “We wanted to know if you was going to use all of your bread, because we already threw ours and the birds are still hungry. See?” She pointed to the geese that’d backed up toward the fountain but still squawked loudly in their goal to get to the brown bag in spite of the two redheaded obstacles.

  Titus saw Mitch shaking his head in disapproval. “Girls, come back over here and leave Mr. Titus alone. You’ve already used up all of your bread.”

  “Hey, it’s fine. I wasn’t sure whether I’d have time to toss the rest anyway, so y’all have at it,” Titus said, handing the bag over to a smiling Emmie.

  Dee grinned. “Thanks!” Then she and Emmie darted back to the other side of the fountain, the geese following after them and the squawking increasing with every step.

  Wit
h the noisy birds lured away, Titus and Isabella were relatively alone, the other couples surrounding the fountain either talking among themselves or simply enjoying the picturesque scene. Titus took in the serenity of the moment, the splashing water providing a soothing and relaxing backdrop for the early summer evening.

  He knew he’d pressed too hard when he asked why she came to Claremont, so he made a conscious decision to remain silent while they waited on John and Dana to bring Savannah back. He wouldn’t ask all of things he wanted to know. He’d simply enjoy the time sitting on the square with the lady who had touched his daughter’s heart.

  * * *

  Isabella should’ve expected Titus to ask why she’d ended up in Claremont. Even so, she hadn’t been prepared. So she selected her words carefully. “I came here for one reason,” she said, “but I’ve stayed for several other reasons.” She stopped talking when a toddler who’d wandered away from his parents ventured toward their bench. He wore denim overalls over a red T-shirt and looked like a little farmer in the making. His chubby cheeks lifted with his smile.

  She held out her hand toward the little guy as he moved closer. Seeing the action as an invitation, he slapped her hand with an open palm, a toddler rendition of a high five. She laughed.

  “Micah, come back over here,” his father called, and the boy turned and pattered back to his parents, lounging on a patchwork quilt beneath one of the two large oak trees that bracketed the fountain.

  Isabella appreciated the little boy buying her some time. “I love being around children,” she said, returning a wave from Micah. “I guess I’ve known that for a while, but I didn’t realize how much until I got the chance to volunteer in Atlanta. One of the reasons I want to stay in Claremont is because I’ll get to help lots of children at Willow’s Haven.” Micah blew her an exaggerated kiss. Moved, she returned the sweet gesture and then listened to a robust belly-giggle from the adorable little boy.

  Watching the interaction, Titus said, “You do have a way with kids, especially Savannah.”

  She hoped he’d believe the truth in her words, because as much as she liked children in general, her feelings for Savannah were different. “Savannah touches my heart. I look at her and her situation and see myself at that age.” She motioned toward Micah and his family, now sharing a bowlful of grapes on the blanket. “All children don’t have families like that. At Willow’s Haven, I’ll have a chance to help kids who don’t know what it’s like to have a parent’s love.”

  “The way you didn’t,” Titus said.

  “Yes.” She shifted on the bench so that she faced him. “I know you feel like Savannah has missed out for the past three years. But she’s starting to come out of her shell now, and I meant what I said earlier—she’s been so very blessed to have you. She wasn’t all alone. If I’d have had a parent that loved me, even if only one parent, I’d have been so much happier. Savannah may have seemed sad and lost, but even though she was confused about Nan leaving, she knew that you loved her. And that makes all the difference in the world.”

  He looked as though her words hurt, and Isabella wondered if she’d said something wrong.

  “I can’t get over the fact that you had no one in those years growing up,” he said, letting her know that his thoughts weren’t solely on Savannah, but also on Isabella.

  “I had lots of people in my life,” she clarified, “but no one who really cared.” She thought about some of the worst situations she’d endured. The houses where the lights went out at dark, regardless of the fact that “dark” occurred at 6:00 p.m. The one home where time-out happened in the tiny pantry. She’d been in there for over three hours one night listening to horrid noises from the cupboards. She’d known the house had mice, and she knew where they lingered. In that pantry.

  She pushed the chilling memory aside.

  “What happened to you after those years were over?” he asked. “I assume you stay in the state’s care, whether in an orphanage or foster home, until you’re eighteen. But what happens in that system after you become an adult?”

  His question tossed Isabella back to her senior year of high school and the doubts and fears that had quadrupled as she prepared for her eighteenth birthday. “It really depends on where you end up,” she said.

  “Where you end up?”

  “Some kids are with families that are willing to see them through college, although that’s often only because the state will keep sending them money while the child is enrolled in school. Others get jobs, minimum wage, of course, but they have a way to survive and try to make it on their own. Then some just disappear, turning to easy ways to make money, like stealing or selling drugs. Or selling themselves.” She recalled how many of her foster siblings ended up in prison. Or dead. “Things could’ve turned out differently for me,” she said, more to herself than to Titus. “I should be thankful he got me away from the other options.”

  “Who?” Titus asked. “Your husband?”

  She nodded, her thoughts pushing back to when she’d met Richard at the University of Georgia career day. Her high school had taken the seniors on a bus from Atlanta to Athens so they could talk to those who were successful in their choice of study. Isabella had no idea what she would study in college or if she even planned to go to a university. She had the option of moving to a girls’ home, basically a place for kids who had aged out of the orphanage but still planned to attend school funded by the state. But when she visited the place, she’d seen no sense of purpose in any of the girls’ eyes. They’d all looked so sad. Hopeless.

  Isabella had gone to UGA that day thinking that she wasn’t willing to pursue college if it meant she’d have to live in that home. But then she’d happened upon the good-looking young real estate magnate already making his mark on the Southeast, even though he was merely twenty-eight. And Richard singled her out immediately, talking to her about life and dreams and goals. He’d asked her out on the spot, and she’d told him she had to wait until she was eighteen, since the orphanage wouldn’t allow her to date. That seemed to only intrigue him more, and on her eighteenth birthday, he’d given her roses, an expensive dress, and then taken her to an elaborate restaurant in Atlanta, where he enjoyed teaching her the etiquette of fine dining.

  It was Pretty Woman, except she wasn’t a prostitute—she was an orphan. But Richard Gray might as well have been Richard Gere with all of the attention he poured into Isabella.

  “Isabella,” Titus said softly, pulling her from her memories, “can you tell me what happened?”

  “Basically, he saved me. He taught me about life. Gave me anything and everything I ever wanted.” She thought about how badly she’d wanted children and added, “For the most part.”

  Titus ran a hand through his hair, and Isabella watched the waves fall into place. “He gave you everything you wanted? Or everything he decided you should want?”

  Isabella didn’t feel right talking badly about everything Richard did for her back then, because without him, she could’ve ended up in the same type of survival mode as her foster siblings. Living on the streets. Never knowing where she’d get her next meal or where she’d sleep at the end of the day. “He wanted to help me,” she said.

  Titus started to say something, but then he saw Savannah and Abi skipping across the square toward the fountain. He placed his hand on the bench near hers, then slid his fingers so that they rested on the top of her hand, the warmth of them seeping through like a balm to her soul. “I want to talk to you more about this.” He looked at her, and she found herself captivated by the tiny flecks of gold in his earnest hazel eyes.

  Before she met Titus, Isabella had only talked to one person about her past. Nan. But she could sense that Titus truly cared. And she wanted to talk to him, spend more time with him, get to know more about this man. “Okay.”

  “Daddy! Miss Isabella! Look what Mr. John got me!” Savannah
clutched a fabric doll with pink yarn hair as she ran ahead of Abi to their bench. “Isn’t she cute?”

  Abi had a matching doll with turquoise hair. They had button eyes and calico dresses, appearing like something from olden days.

  “She is cute,” Isabella said. “I love her dress, too.”

  “We won’t be able to fix her hair though,” Savannah said with a grin. “’Cause it stays this way ’cause it’s sewed down.”

  “You bought her a doll?” Titus asked John.

  “He’s never been able to tell Abi no,” Dana said, nudging his arm with her shoulder. “But he doesn’t spoil her too much.”

  “Daddy says you do,” Abi said, “but I don’t mind.”

  John laughed, ran his hand over the top of her hair. “Yeah, well, Landon is right. And I’m sure you don’t mind.” Then he tilted his head toward Savannah. “She and Abi had a fit over the new vintage-style dolls Mr. Feazell got in today, and I wanted to get them one. I hope that’s okay with you, Titus.”

  Savannah had been hugging her doll, but she stopped and looked at her daddy. “It is, isn’t it, Daddy? Because this is the best day ever. I went swimming and we had ice cream and then I got a new doll.”

  Isabella watched emotions play over his face. Savannah had made so much progress today at the pool and now again with her disposition, practically beaming as she stood beside her friend holding her new doll.

  “Yes, it’s fine,” he said. “But what do you tell Mr. John and Miss Dana?”

  She turned to face John and Dana. “Thank you so much!”

  “You’re welcome,” they said, as Jacob started rubbing his eyes and whimpering.

  “It’s about bedtime for little man,” Dana said. “It was good to run into y’all here. I guess we’ll see you at the pool again tomorrow?”