Family Wanted (Willow's Haven Book 1) (11 page)

Her admiration grew even more, as did her desire to come clean and tell him the truth.

“Are y’all coming?” Savannah called from the other end of the hall.

Titus laughed. “Miss Impatient,” he said, “we’re almost there.”

Isabella still hadn’t put her shoes on, and the hardwood floor seemed cooler against her feet than it had earlier in the day. Even so, the house radiated the natural warmth of an older home, a house that’d known many years of familial love. She suspected this was probably the least inhabited the home had ever been, and she thought of the massive master bedroom at the other end of the hall. And the fact that Titus had been sleeping there alone for three years, waiting to see if his wife would ever return.

Her heart thudded in her chest. He’d been hurt enough, and she hated that telling him the truth would hurt him again. But she didn’t see any other way. And she still didn’t know how to tell him that Nan had professed her love for him but never mentioned their little girl.

They entered Savannah’s room to find her already snuggled under the covers. She smiled broadly when they entered. “I’m ready to say my prayers.”

Titus moved ahead of Isabella to kneel near Savannah’s head. He motioned to the spot next to him, and she followed his lead, kneeling beside him. Savannah, still smiling, patted Isabella’s arm before closing her eyes.

“Dear God,” she said, “thank You for letting me go to church today with Rose and Daisy and for letting me make the sailboat in Sunday school and for me learning about Peter, James and John in the sailboat and for letting us have a good lunch with brownies and strawberries and for letting Miss Isabella come play with me and for letting us cook dinner. And God please bless Daddy and please bless Miss Isabella and please bless Mommy in heaven. Amen.”

She opened her eyes and looked to Titus. “Your turn.”

“Your prayer was perfect for both of us,” he said, and kissed her forehead.

Her brow furrowed, mouth slid to the side, and Isabella suspected he’d been telling her that each night for a while now. However, Savannah, undeterred, turned her attention to the other adult in the room. “Your turn, Miss Isabella?”

There was no way Isabella could deny her request. So she closed her eyes and prayed, “Dear God, thank You for every blessing You’ve given me. Thank You for letting me spend the day here with Titus and Savannah. And please bless them, Lord. Take care of them and watch over them always. And be with me, too, Lord,” she said, then silently added,
Help me do the right thing.
She swallowed, and then finished, “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

“That was a good one,” Savannah said.

Isabella smiled. “Thanks.”

Then Savannah opened her arms to her daddy. “Hugs and kisses.”

He hugged her tightly and kissed her cheek. “Sweet dreams,” he said, then moved away from the bed.

Savannah didn’t miss a beat. She opened her arms again. “Hugs and kisses, Miss Isabella.”

Isabella melted into her embrace, inhaled the sweet scent of Savannah’s shampoo as their cheeks touched and as Isabella grasped the flood of emotions resulting from this little girl’s hug.

“We had a great day, didn’t we?” Savannah asked.

It took Isabella several blinks and a tough swallow to answer, but somehow she managed. “A great day,” she said.

Savannah released her and then pulled the sheet up to her neck. “Can’t wait to see what my hair looks like in the morning.” She touched the braid that fell over her shoulder.

“It’s going to be so pretty,” Isabella said. “I can’t wait to see it, too.”

Savannah’s mouth stretched open in a yawn. “Night,” she whispered, then took a deep breath and closed her eyes, a smile still lifting her cheeks.

Titus turned out the light beside the bed, which caused a daisy night-light to illuminate at an outlet near the door. Then he pointed toward the hallway, and Isabella followed the silent instruction to leave Savannah’s room.

Instead of walking toward the back of the house, Titus led her to the front stairs, so that they ended up in the foyer, where the box still sat on the table.

Titus paused, stared at it for a moment and moved toward it. Isabella held her breath as she prepared for him to see what Nan had sent, but instead of opening the box, he picked it up and carried it to a closet nearby.

“I should have done this when it first came,” he said, sliding it onto a shelf above the coats. “I’ve made my decision. I don’t want or need to know what’s inside. Seeing it every day will only remind me of things I don’t want to remember.”

She watched as he shut the closet door and then turned to face her, and she could almost see the weight of the box’s presence lifted from his shoulders. The memory of Nan’s abandonment hurt. The knowledge of her death hurt even more.

But Isabella knew that Nan had loved Titus. She’d professed her love for him, her mistake in leaving him, for months before she died. Her last words had been about him, asking Isabella to promise to find him and tell him that she’d never stopped loving him.

Isabella hadn’t kept that promise. Not yet. But she would.

“Did you need to leave, or would you like to stay awhile?” he asked, obviously ready to take the subject off Nan’s box. “We could sit on the porch if you want. The sun’s already set, but I usually have a nice view of the stars above the mountain if the night’s clear.”

“I’d planned to clean up in the kitchen before I leave.” She and Savannah had gone through several pots and pans, and then there were all of the plates and serving dishes that needed to be taken care of. She didn’t want to leave him with that mess.

He grinned. “It doesn’t work that way.”

“What doesn’t work that way?”

“I was raised to know that if a lady did the cooking, the fellow did the cleaning. My mom always cooked. Pops always cleaned.” He opened the screen door leading to the porch. “So I’ll clean the kitchen after you leave. We can sit and enjoy the night sky now.”

She noticed he no longer gave her the option of leaving, which was good, because she wasn’t ready to go. She needed to talk to him about Nan first. “I’ve never heard that rule,” she said, “but I suppose it’d be futile to argue with it.”

“Definitely.” He remained at the door as she went through, the narrow opening causing her to brush against him as she passed.

Isabella liked being near him, liked getting to know him and all of his wonderful qualities. A guy who took great care of his little girl, who kept his home clean and kitchen well stocked for meals, who did the laundry and decorated for holidays. And who didn’t allow a woman who cooked to clean the dishes.

Until the past couple of weeks, Isabella hadn’t realized guys like Titus Jameson existed, except for the fact that Nan had told her he was like this. Nan had said he was amazing. And that she still loved him dearly.

Isabella gathered the courage needed to say the words on the tip of her tongue.
I knew your wife.
A perfect way to start the conversation. But she couldn’t make her mouth form the sentence. Instead, she felt she was going to be sick.

“I appreciate you bringing Savannah home today,” he said, as they took their seats on the porch swing. “I’ve never sent her to church without me, but—” he shook his head “—I’ve never wanted to be one of those hypocritical folks that goes to church because it’s the thing to do and not because you felt like worshipping. I couldn’t pull off worshipping today.”

He didn’t look at her, but stared toward the inky outline of the mountains beneath the moonlight. Stars dotted the blackness, and Isabella wondered if he saw the beautiful display the same way she did, as God’s way of giving them a stunning backdrop for a difficult conversation.

Isabella had been trying to get the nerve to tell him about Nan, but obviously God was opening a different door here, and she’d follow His direction. “It’s hard not to blame Him when times are tough.”

Titus gently pushed them back and forth on the swing as he spoke. “It isn’t that I blame Him,” he said. “I don’t think it’s His fault that she left or that she died. But I can’t help thinking there would’ve been some way to soften both blows. Or to help me to understand what happened, and not merely for me, but for Savannah. One day, she’s going to start dating and thinking about relationships, and I know she’s going to wonder what went wrong with her parents.” He shook his head. “And I don’t have a thing that I can tell her.”

Again, Isabella sensed God opening a door and possibly giving her another means for letting Titus know how Nan felt about him when she died. She’d promised Nan she would tell Titus that she’d messed up in leaving him and that she’d never stopped loving him. But what if there was a way that Isabella didn’t have to tell him herself? What if Nan could tell him?

She thought about the box now in the closet and all of the possibilities for what it contained. Surely Nan would’ve left something that showed Titus she still loved him. And perhaps the box also held something to show him she still loved Savannah, too.

“Maybe you do have something you can tell Savannah,” she said. “About what happened, and about why Nan left.”

He stopped pushing the swing and turned toward Isabella. “How would I have that?”

“Nan’s box,” she said, feeling more and more certain that her theory was correct. “Don’t you think she left some information, maybe a note or a picture or something, that would give you a hint of how she was feeling when she left, or how she was feeling when she died? Maybe she regretted leaving you and Savannah, and maybe there’s something in that box that lets you know.”

“Or maybe she left us for someone else, and that guy abandoned ship when she got sick,” he said quickly. Too quickly. As though this theory had been on his mind all along.

Isabella really thought he should open the box. She believed it’d help him, and she knew it’d help her. “Don’t you think if there were someone else that Nan would’ve wanted a divorce?” She recalled the conversations she and Nan had had about her own divorce from Richard. Nan had acted as if she could relate, because of her relationship with her ex-husband. But now Isabella knew that she’d never had an ex-husband. She’d been married to Titus the entire time.

Isabella blinked past the pain of Nan’s betrayal of her and prayed that there wasn’t something in that box that actually enlightened Titus to a betrayal of him. She couldn’t believe that Nan’s professions of love on her deathbed were a lie. She wouldn’t believe it. Nan may have lied about being married, but surely she hadn’t lied about loving her husband. Isabella had sensed Nan’s deep love for Titus, had been a little envious of it, truth be told. There was no way those confessions of love weren’t true. “I think you should open it,” she said.

When he remained silent, she thought he might be considering retrieving the box and opening it. Then she could be here to help him deal with the truth and accept the fact that Nan had never stopped loving him. She could help Nan get the message to him without conveying the fact that she’d befriended his wife before she died. But then he asked her a question that destroyed that theory completely.

“Have you ever had something that you felt you should do, that seemed like the right thing to do, but you knew deep in your soul that following through would cause you—and other people you cared about—a whole lot of pain?”

Isabella thought of the past two weeks, and each day, hour and minute that she hadn’t told him the truth. She nodded.

“Right,” he said. “Well, that’s how I feel about that box. Yeah, maybe I should open it and see what she left. But you’ve got to remember that the man at the hospital didn’t even know I was her husband. He thought I was her brother. If there’s anything in that box telling why she left me, then he’d have at least known I was in the picture, don’t you think?”

She hadn’t thought of that. “Maybe.”

“Let me ask you something else. Did you follow through? Did you do whatever it was that you knew would hurt someone else? Say whatever you needed to say, do whatever you needed to do?”

Tough question. Easy answer. “No.”

“Isabella,” he said, “don’t expect me to do something that you can’t.”

Chapter Eleven

I hope Savannah will forgive me.

“I
placed the order for those bunk beds we found,” Savvy said excitedly as she entered the trailer and bumped the door closed with her hip. “Dana said they have plenty of space at the dude ranch to store the furniture until the cabins are ready. But, according to Titus, as long as we don’t have too much rain in July and August, the first one should be up and ready to furnish by September. We could potentially have children living here as early as October. Isn’t that great?”

“Yes,” Isabella said, mustering up a smile, “great.”

Savvy’s arms were filled with the furniture catalogs she and Isabella had picked up at the stores they’d visited last Friday, and she dropped them on Isabella’s desk before sitting across from her, folding her arms and then raising one eyebrow in a look that said she expected more enthusiasm from her office manager.

“It
is
great,” Isabella said, closing the file they’d received from the State Department of Family and Children Services of children needing placement. “Really. It’ll be wonderful to tell kids that they have a nice place to live, a place where they’ll be cared for and loved.” She did her best to sound upbeat.

“Rose, Daisy and Savannah are out back playing on the swing set,” Savvy said, still scrutinizing Isabella. “So you can spill now. No one’s here but us. And I’ve waited long enough for you to fill me in voluntarily, so I’m asking, and I want to know. What’s going on with you and Titus?”

Isabella had been expecting the question from Savvy all week, but they hadn’t had a moment to themselves in the past four days, which had been fine with Isabella. She hadn’t been ready to talk about the mess she’d caused on Sunday. But she was ready today. She needed someone to confide in, someone to give her advice.

“On Sunday, when I took Savannah home, we had a wonderful time. I ended up staying and playing with her while Titus worked on repairing his porch railings. It was incredible, being there with them, sharing the day together. Savannah and I surprised Titus by fixing dinner for him, and we all ate together.” She’d replayed the perfect scene over and over throughout the week, not only in her waking moments but also when she dreamed. That meal had obviously been nice for Titus, because it was a surprise. But it had meant plenty to Isabella, too, because it gave her a glimpse of what it’d be like if her dreams came true. However, after she returned to the B and B, reality set in. She’d felt the same way when she met Richard, as if her dreams had come true, and that had ended up as a nightmare.

Savvy’s hand moved to her heart. “Oh, Isabella, that sounds like a perfect day.”

Isabella didn’t even need her past with Richard to make her realize that she could never have anything beyond friendship with Titus. Because everything he knew about her was based on a lie.

“The day was good,” she admitted, then recalled what started the downward spiral. “But, that night, Savannah asked me to help tuck her in, and apparently that was something that they’d always done together—Nan, Titus and Savannah.”

Savvy frowned. “Brought back memories for him?”

“Yes, and we started talking about what had happened back then, and he mentioned how he would never know why Nan left.” She recalled the awkward conversation on the porch swing. “I suggested that he should open the box of her things that the hospital sent, because there might be something in there that would let him know why she left, maybe even let him know that she’d still loved him all along.”

“Titus got a box? Of Nan’s things?” Savvy asked. “And he hasn’t opened it?”

“He
won’t
open it. I think he believes whatever is inside will convince him that she never loved him the way he thought she did.”

“Oh, my,” Savvy said, “bless Titus’s heart. I know that has to be tough, but he needs to open it. How will he ever have closure if he doesn’t?”

“That’s what I think, too, so I told him he should,” Isabella said, “and he’s barely spoken to me since.”

“So
that’s
what’s been going on with you two,” Savvy said, leaning back in the chair and chewing on her lower lip. She sat there for a moment while Isabella prayed that she’d give her some advice she could work with. She didn’t want a relationship with Titus, but she hadn’t intended on losing the friendship. Then Savvy straightened and said, “He has to open that box. That’s all there is to it.”

Obviously,
that
bit of wisdom wasn’t going to cut it. “He won’t. And there’s more,” Isabella said, needing to confess everything. “I haven’t been honest with him. There’s something I need to tell him, and I haven’t.” Odd, but merely saying even that much made her feel a little better.

Savvy nodded her head once, as if she’d expected this insight. “I know a thing or two about that, keeping secrets from each other, because Brodie and I were both guilty of it. We each had secrets in our past that we had no intention of sharing, not with anyone else and certainly not with each other, but until we did, our relationship was one big lie. You can’t start a relationship with a lie. It never works.”

Now
that
was the kind of advice Isabella had expected. And what she needed to hear. Until she told Titus about Nan, a relationship—even if that meant a friendship only—would never be a possibility. “I need to tell him the truth, but how can I when we’re barely speaking?”

“You’re still giving Savannah swim lessons each afternoon, right?”

“Yes, but he doesn’t say any more than necessary, the same way he does every morning when he drops Savannah off at the trailer. And we’ll have our last lesson for this week today, since tomorrow is the Fourth of July. I probably won’t even see him again until Monday.”

Savvy waved her hand dismissively. “Are you kidding? You’ll see him at every Fourth of July event tomorrow. We’ve got the softball game, then the parade and then the fireworks, and you’ll go to all of them, and you’ll make sure to spend time with him.”

“I hadn’t planned to go.” She’d heard enough about the activities to know the town offered them each year, but it also sounded like a family affair.

She had no family.

“You’re going,” Savvy said, not offering no as an option. “And tomorrow, you’ll make him talk to you. Tell him that you need to tell him the truth, and then tell him whatever it is. You’ll feel better for it, and I’m sure he will, too.”

“Make him talk to me,” Isabella repeated, dumbfounded. “How?”

Savvy shook her head in apparent disbelief. “You really don’t see the way he looks at you? Whether he wants to admit it or not, Titus Jameson has already started falling, and as much as he tries to stay away, if you tell him you want to talk, he’ll listen.”

“I’m not so sure,” Isabella said, uncertain that he was falling for her—which she was pretty sure would never happen, since he was obviously still in love with Nan—and also that she could pull off making him listen.

“That’s okay,” Savvy said, grinning as she scooped up a few of the magazines she’d dropped on the desk. “You don’t have to be sure. I’m sure enough for both of us. Tonight, you talk to him and tell him the truth. Tomorrow, we’ll work on how you can convince him to open that box.”

“I...” Isabella started.

“Will. That’s the rest of your sentence,” Savvy said with a grin. “I will.”

“I will,” Isabella repeated, and then silently added,
try
.

* * *

It didn’t matter that he could no longer see the box. Ever since his conversation with Isabella Sunday night, Titus hadn’t stopped thinking about it or wondering what was inside. And the more his curiosity increased, the more resolute he became in the belief that whatever Nan had left behind would do him in.

Part of him wanted to burn the thing. Or take it to the Claremont dump and toss it. Maybe drop it at the top of Jasper Falls and watch it plummet.

Another part wanted to rip it open and determine what had happened during her last three years.

Unfortunately, whatever he’d started feeling toward Isabella on Sunday had been hindered by his preoccupation with the box and by her insistence that he should open it. That box served as a reminder that the first woman he’d ever loved, the mother of his child, had abandoned him and Savannah. It reminded him that, even when she knew she was dying, Nan hadn’t felt the need to let him know, hadn’t thought he deserved a chance to tell her goodbye or to let them see her one more time. And it reminded him that people you care about—people you love—can leave without warning. Without explanation. With no regard to the shattered hearts left in their wake.

Yes, he’d started having feelings toward Isabella, but how did he know she wouldn’t do the same thing? He’d believed he’d known Nan so well, and she’d blindsided him. How could he let himself fall so easily for someone that he’d just met? Titus wouldn’t have thought it possible, but on Sunday, he’d sensed his heart tumbling for the beautiful, sensitive woman with the tormented past. And during the four days since, he’d done his best to reel it back in.

He’d seen Isabella each morning when he dropped Savannah off, and he’d thanked her for fixing her hair. He’d also spent each afternoon with her at the pool, but he kept his attention on Savannah and made no more comments to Isabella than absolutely necessary. When it was time to leave, he’d politely thank her and then gently coax Savannah away from the woman she undeniably loved.

Titus didn’t want to harm the relationship Savannah had developed with Isabella, because he knew how much it helped her to have a mother figure in her life again. He just couldn’t let himself see Isabella as someone to fill the huge void in his own world.

Quite honestly, he didn’t know if he’d ever be ready to have that space filled again.

By the time Savannah’s swim lesson ended Thursday afternoon, Titus believed he’d sufficiently distanced himself from Isabella. There was no way she hadn’t noticed that their relationship was clearly friendship. Nothing more, nothing less. Even today, while he’d praised Savannah for her new skill of swimming underwater, he’d kept his attention off Isabella and focused solely on his daughter.

Thankfully, this would be their last swim lesson of the week, since tomorrow was the Fourth of July, and the entire town would be busy with the traditional festivities—a friendly community softball game in the morning, the parade in the afternoon and fireworks tomorrow evening. Granted, he’d probably see Isabella at some of the events, but there would be plenty of people around. They wouldn’t be as isolated as they were now, with merely the two of them and Savannah at the pool.

“Did you see me, Daddy? Wasn’t that awesome?” Savannah asked as she exited the water and accepted her towel from Titus.

“Very awesome,” he said, while she dried off and Isabella, still in the pool, swam to the deep end to retrieve a couple of kickboards they’d used at the beginning of the lesson. He didn’t want to watch how elegantly she moved when she swam, or the way her hair billowed behind her in the water, the red shimmering against the late-afternoon sun.

He didn’t
want
to watch. But he couldn’t help himself.

“Someday I want to swim that good, like Miss Isabella,” Savannah said, obviously aware that her father gawked at the woman in the pool.

Titus turned away from the affecting image to gather Savannah’s shorts and T-shirt from the table. “Here you go,” he said. “Go ahead and get dressed, please.” He wanted her to be ready to leave before Isabella came out of the water.

Savannah slipped her T-shirt over her head, stepped into her shorts and then caught sight of her friend at the barn. “Hey, there’s Abi,” she said, waving toward Abi, her parents Landon and Georgiana, as well as John and Dana, all standing near a blue horse trailer.

Abi waved back and yelled, “Savannah! Come see our new pony!”

“Oh, wow!” Savannah grabbed her shoes and pushed her feet inside. “Daddy, I’m going to go see the new pony, okay?”

Titus didn’t have the option to say no. What reason could he give and, besides, Savannah had already started running toward the barn. “Just for a few minutes!” he yelled after her, and then thought he might head to the barn, too, at least until their swim instructor left.

But before he could start an exit, Isabella reached the steps and began climbing out. So instead of escaping to the barn, he did the gentlemanly thing, grabbing her beach towel from the table and meeting her as she reached the concrete. Her swimsuit today was a deep purple. The rich hue seemed to draw more attention to the reddish tones in her hair and the vivid green of her eyes.

“Thank you,” she said, reaching toward the towel with her right hand and then extending the kickboards she clutched in her left. “Can you hold these while I dry off?”

“Sure,” he said, taking the boards. But instead of standing there and watching her, which wouldn’t do anything for distancing himself from his natural attraction, he walked back to the table, picked up her large beach bag and slid the boards inside. By the time he turned around, she’d finished drying, had already slid on a pair of shorts and was pulling an Atlanta Braves T-shirt over her head.

The additional clothing should have made him stop noticing how beautiful she was after she swam, but Isabella’s attractiveness wasn’t merely physical. She radiated inner beauty as well, from the way she smiled to the way she spoke to the way she studied her surroundings with those inquisitive green eyes.

Titus cleared his throat and prepared to tell her he was going to the barn. Anything to get away from the urge to push that wet lock of auburn hair away from her cheek. And to stop wondering what it’d feel like to hold her, kiss her or tell her that, in spite of his attempt to keep his distance, he hadn’t stopped thinking about her all week.

“Kind of tough to avoid talking to me when it’s just the two of us here, isn’t it?” she asked, those green eyes studying him and making him feel as though she knew how very difficult it was to fight whatever he felt toward her. One corner of her mouth dipped down, and she looked troubled. “Titus, I need to apologize.”

He had no idea what she had to feel sorry about. The problem wasn’t with Isabella. It was with him. He’d simply realized he wasn’t ready to trust a female again—didn’t know if he’d ever be ready—and he’d let his feelings for Isabella and his gratitude for her helping Savannah teeter too close to the edge of love. Certainly, that wasn’t her fault. “Apologize for what?”