Family Wanted (Willow's Haven Book 1) (12 page)

“I obviously made you uncomfortable Sunday night when I told you that I thought you should open that box of Nan’s things. You’ve hardly spoken to me all week, barely even looked at me,” she said, her tone saying that both facts hurt. “And I want you to know that I’m sorry.”

Titus didn’t want to hurt her, but he also didn’t want to put himself in the situation to be hurt again. Or risk Savannah getting hurt. Yet Savannah was already so emotionally connected to Isabella that if something happened to take her out of Savannah’s life, Titus knew his little girl would be devastated.

Had he already messed up by letting them grow so close?

He looked toward the barn and saw Savannah and Abi petting the new pony while the adults took photos with their phones, which gave him some time to justify his actions this week. “I don’t know any other way to explain this than to tell you the truth,” he said.

“Okay.” She stuffed her towel in the bag with the kickboards. “I’m listening.”

Titus took a deep breath, let it out and decided to start with the basics. “Sunday spooked me.”

Confusion etched clearly across her features. “Spooked you, how?”

“Having you there, with Savannah and with me, spending the day with us, playing with her and taking care of her, sharing dinner together and then tucking Savannah in.” He shook his head and wished he were better with words. He was a guy, and guys weren’t all that great at sharing feelings. Nan had often reminded him of that when they were married. She’d also told him it was best to simply put it all out there, say what he was thinking instead of making her try to guess. Typical females weren’t into guessing the feelings—or lack thereof—going on in a guy’s head.

But Isabella wasn’t a typical female. She’d been hurt growing up, had never had a real family and had been through a sorry excuse of a marriage. And on Sunday, he’d seen it on her face; she’d felt something happening between them, too. For Titus to act as though he could give her whatever she wanted was wrong. He couldn’t. Because he couldn’t get over what happened with Nan. If he were over it, it wouldn’t have bothered him when Savannah asked Isabella to tuck her in, wouldn’t have stabbed his heart when she said he should open that box.

“Letting me spend the day with you and Savannah spooked you,” she said quietly, “because it reminded you of what you had with Nan and what you lost.” She pushed her hands in the pockets of her shorts, looked toward the mountains as if deciding what to say next. Then her head moved in a subtle nod and she turned back to Titus.

Titus didn’t know what to say.

She shook her head. “Think about what you had with her, Titus. The family that y’all had together with Savannah. Any woman who had something that wonderful wouldn’t have left without a good reason.” She closed her eyes for a moment, and Titus wondered if she were saying a quick prayer. Then she opened them and asked, “Don’t you think that she may have left you something that tells you what that reason was? If you’d just open the box...”

He couldn’t believe they were back to this again. Why wouldn’t she leave it alone? “Nothing in that box is going to change the fact that she walked out, or that she died without giving us a chance to say goodbye.” He wished he could control the anger in his tone, but he was done talking about that box, done thinking about it.

She shook her head, looked up at the sky and released a ragged breath. Titus didn’t know why this had her so upset. It wasn’t as if it were her problem—it was his. “Titus, I need to tell you something.”

They’d been so intent on the conversation that they hadn’t seen or heard the two girls sprinting toward the pool, with John and Dana following close behind.

“Daddy! I forgot to tell you about the bonfire!” Savannah yelled breathlessly.

He wanted to ask Isabella what she needed to say, but she’d turned her back when the girls neared, probably to keep them from seeing her so emotional. “Bonfire?” he asked.

“Tomorrow night. They told us at church, but I forgot to tell you.”

“We’re having a bonfire here for the kids,” Dana explained, as she and John joined the girls by the pool. “Since so many of them get scared by the loud fireworks, we thought we’d do a kid thing at the ranch for the Fourth. We’re going to roast marshmallows, make s’mores, sing songs.”

“And spend the night!” Abi added.

“In tents!” Savannah said. “Isn’t that great, Daddy?”

The thought of her spending the night outside in a tent didn’t sit well with him. He asked Dana, “Is Savannah old enough for this thing?”

“I am, Daddy,” she said. “Rose and Daisy are going to be here. And they’re six, same as me.”

But Titus awaited Dana’s answer.

“We’re actually starting at age five,” she said. “Savannah had mentioned she wanted to come when we announced it during children’s church on Sunday, so I’d already put her down to stay in the tent with Savvy, Rose and Daisy. We have an adult and three kids in each tent,” she explained.

“And we’ll spend the night and then we’re going to ride horses and go fishing on Saturday,” Savannah said excitedly.

“We’re planning on the fun lasting until Saturday afternoon,” John said. “And we’d love for Savannah to come, if that’s okay with you.”

Savannah had never spent the night away from home except for an occasional weekend trip to the beach with Titus’s folks. “Are you sure you want to stay?” he asked. “All night?”

“Daddy, I’m six,” she answered, as though that were the all-important I’m-growing-up number. And maybe it was.

“Okay, then, I guess that’s fine,” he said, and was rewarded with an exuberant hug from Savannah.

“Thanks so much, Daddy!”

He patted her back and got the details from Dana and John, all the while watching Isabella keep her back to them during the process of gathering her things.

She started walking toward her car without looking back, but her shaking shoulders and an occasional movement of her hand to her face told Titus she was crying. He wanted to check on her, ask her why she was so upset, but he didn’t want to draw attention to the fact, since he seemed to be the only one who noticed. Everyone else chattered nonstop about the Fourth of July plans.

“I’ll see all of you tomorrow,” Isabella called, climbing in her car. She’d parked far enough away that Titus couldn’t see her face, and neither could the remainder of the group.

“See you tomorrow!” Dana returned.

“Bye, Miss Isabella!” Savannah called.

Titus couldn’t let her leave without finding out what she needed to tell him that had her so worked up. “Hang on. I’ll be right back,” he said to the group, then he sprinted to her car.

She was looking through her purse when he tapped on the driver’s side window, and she jumped. Then she rubbed both palms across her cheeks and lowered the window.

Her long lashes were wet spikes, but Titus didn’t think that was from swimming as much as from crying, and he hated that he’d made her cry. He leaned his forehead against the top of the door. “Isabella, what is it? Are you okay?”

She sniffed. “I will be.”

He knew John and Dana were probably watching, but he didn’t care. “You said you had something to talk to me about.”

She leaned forward to look past him, presumably at the group still by the pool. “It can wait.” Then she blinked through the tears and started the car. “I’ve got to go, Titus. Sorry I got so upset. I’ve got a lot on my mind.” Then she rolled up the window and drove away, leaving Titus to wonder why, if he’d worked so hard to distance himself from her all week, he wanted nothing more than to run after her now.

Chapter Twelve

I hope you will forgive me, too.

T
itus woke even earlier than usual Friday morning. Or rather, he never really went to sleep. His night had been filled with the memory of Isabella crying and then leaving. Their brief conversation, combined with how miserable he’d felt when she’d driven away, had convinced him that his plan to stay away from her would never work.

He couldn’t get her off his mind, couldn’t get her out of his heart. But she was convinced that he needed to open that box and see what Nan had left behind, and Titus had realized this week, as he tried to stay away from Isabella and then failed, that she was probably right. Unless he opened—and closed—that final chapter of his relationship with Nan, he’d never be able to move forward with anyone, even someone as amazing as Isabella Gray.

But the memory of the day Nan walked out and the moment when he read that single sheet of paper that ended up being her final letter cut so deeply that Titus didn’t know if he could handle another stab of pain regarding the marriage he’d thought would last forever.

So he
still
hadn’t opened the box. And he
still
wasn’t ready to move on.

He needed advice, and he knew where to get it.

As the first rays of sunlight pierced the sky, Titus finished off his second cup of coffee, placed the cup on the porch table and picked up his phone. Unlike his mother, Titus’s father never slept past sunup. Right now, he was probably on his back deck watching it rise above the gulf. A perfect time for the two of them to have a heart-to-heart while the ladies of their lives, Titus’s mother and Savannah, were still sleeping.

He selected the number from his Favorites, and his father answered after the first ring. Titus heard him clearing his throat, and then he answered, “Hey, son, what’s wrong?”

His dad knew him well. “You’re saying I only call when something’s wrong?”

“Usually, but there’s nothing terrible about that,” his dad said. “So, does this have something to do with Isabella?”

Titus shook his head, not overly surprised that his mother had already filled him in on the little tidbit she’d assumed when they talked last week. Turned out her assumption, as usual, was pretty close to the mark. “Mom told you about Isabella?”

“Just that she’s new to Claremont, that Savannah loves her and that she’s pretty sure God sent her to you because she prayed for Him to. Nothing much more than that,” he said, humor lining every word.

Titus laughed. “It’s a good thing I love her.”

“Can’t help but love her, that’s what I always say,” his father said, also chuckling. “So...
is
this about Isabella?”

“Partly,” Titus admitted. “And it’s also about Nan.”

A thick inhalation echoed through the line, then his father let it out in a whoosh and said, “Okay, I’m ready. Shoot.”

Titus pictured his dad seated on the back deck and closing his eyes the way he did when he wanted to fully concentrate on what someone said. He’d never appreciated his father’s ability for objective analysis more than now. So he thought through the important aspects of what was going on in his life and started with, “The hospital where Nan died sent a box of her things.”

“Okay,” his dad said slowly, “and I take it that something in that box disturbed you.”

Titus frowned. “I have no idea. I haven’t opened it.”

Silence echoed through the line, and he could almost see his father nodding, putting the pieces together and knowing Titus well enough that he probably knew why that box was still sealed.

“Afraid of what’s inside?” he finally asked.

The sun crept higher, the brilliant light somehow adding even more intensity to his father’s question. “That’s pretty much it.”

“And until you know what’s in that box, and what really happened with Nan, you can’t move forward with this Isabella, who, according to your mother, is perfect for you.” He made the last part of the statement with another hint of humor.

“Kind of hard for her to determine, don’t you think, since she’s never met Isabella,” Titus said.

“Yeah, but you know your mom. She gets it in her head that something’s a certain way, and nothing shakes that.”

“She’d also been certain Nan was coming back, Dad,” Titus reminded him. In fact, his mother hadn’t given up on Nan returning until well past the second year.

His father heaved a sigh. “I think deep down she knew Nan wasn’t coming back, but she just hated seeing you and Savannah hurt so badly.”

“I know.” Titus appreciated the depth of his mother’s love but also needed advice from the parent that wouldn’t sugarcoat the truth. “But Nan didn’t come back, and now I may have a chance to find out why.”

“I see.” His father did see, Titus was certain, and probably already knew how he would handle this situation, which was the whole reason Titus had called. He needed someone to tell him what he already knew in his heart.

“So what would you do?” he asked.

“You don’t really have a choice, do you? If you want to move forward—and you and I both know that you can’t stay stuck in the past and live a productive life—then you’ve got to open that box, deal with whatever is inside and move ahead. Maybe with Isabella, if your mother’s intuition is still alive and well.”

“That’s what I thought you’d say,” Titus admitted.

“And, of course, you should pray. You are keeping God in this equation, aren’t you?”

This time, the silence that echoed through the line came from Titus.

His dad gave him a couple of beats to answer, and when he didn’t, he said, “Don’t give up on Him, son. You need Him now, whether you realize it or not.”

Titus had the answer he’d wanted to gain from this conversation, and he didn’t want to get into a faith discussion with his dad. “Nan wasn’t the only one who let me down, Dad.”

“Titus...”

“But I appreciate the advice. Tell Mom I said Happy Fourth.”

“Take the advice, son, and not merely the part about opening the box,” his father said. “And Happy Fourth to you, too.”

Titus disconnected and continued watching the sun rise, bathing Main Street and bringing attention to the red, white and blue bunting decorating each of the antebellum homes, his included. Though he wasn’t ready to take all of his father’s advice yet, he would take care of the one thing causing him the most grief. Nan’s box. Before the day ended, he’d find out what was inside and deal with it. Today was Independence Day, after all. Time to say goodbye to the things of the past and maybe, just maybe, say hello to the future.

* * *

“About time you decided to show up,” Savvy said, as Isabella climbed the bleachers at the Hydrangea Park baseball field. “I saved you a seat, but I was about to think you weren’t going to need it.”

Isabella knew the seat was saved, since Savvy had included that in one of the many text messages she’d sent over the past hour and a half.

“You didn’t forget about the game, did you?” Savvy asked.

Saying hello to the other people she knew in the stands, Isabella continued weaving through the seated spectators on her way to get to Savvy, who’d selected a spot in the center of the top row. She held up her phone as she neared her friend. “How could I? You’ve been texting me nonstop since it started.”

Savvy, as well as everyone seated around her, laughed. “Well, it took you long enough. This is the last bat of the last inning.”

Isabella could remind her that her texts had focused more on one particular player than on the actual game.

Titus is here.

He’s scanning the stands. I think he’s looking for you.

He just hit a triple, and YOU MISSED IT.

Savannah wants you to braid her hair. I could do it, but she’s asking for you.

You missed him hitting a double this time.

And then the last text, the one that caused Isabella to finally get in the car and drive to Hydrangea Park.

Get here now!

Isabella wedged into the tiny space Savvy had saved between her and Dana. “Where are all of the kids?”

“Over there, on the playground,” Savvy said, pointing toward the children’s area in the center of all the fields without taking her eyes off the guy coming up to bat. “I’ve gotta say, there’s something about a man in uniform.”

Dana giggled. “You’ve been saying it every time Brodie comes up to bat.”

“Hey, I feel the same way when I watch him bat now as I did every time he batted in high school. Still makes my heart race.” She whistled loudly, the sound so shrill that Isabella winced, and then she yelled, “You’ve got this, babe!”

He grinned and winked at his wife, which caused her to whistle again and earn another round of laughs from those seated around her in the stands.

Isabella had known she’d feel out of place at the game. As she suspected, the bleachers were filled with couples cheering on the local team, or with the wives and girlfriends of the guys on the field. Plus, she had no idea whether Titus would want her here watching or not, in spite of the fact that Savvy seemed convinced he was looking for her.

Yesterday, she’d tried to follow Savvy’s advice and tell him the truth about knowing Nan. But then she’d messed up, making him angry when she mentioned Nan’s things again. She should have told him the truth and forgotten about the box. Then maybe they could have dealt with it and moved past it.

Or maybe he’d have gotten even angrier and told her he never wanted to see her again.

“Here comes your guy,” Savvy whispered in her ear, as Titus moved from the dugout to the warm-up circle.

“He isn’t my guy,” Isabella said, but she couldn’t take her eyes off him, wearing a crimson-and-gray Claremont baseball jersey and white baseball pants. Though she wouldn’t verbalize it, she totally agreed with Savvy. There was
something
about a man in uniform.

He took a couple of swings with the bat and then stopped, pivoted toward the stands...and looked directly at Isabella. He had a swipe of black beneath each eye and a bit more of a beard shadow than she’d ever noticed before, making him look ruggedly handsome and undeniably masculine. Startled, she held up her hand and waved her fingers. He nodded, grinned and sent her heart into overdrive.

“He’s
not
your guy?” Savvy continued, thankfully still at a whisper.

“I didn’t tell him,” Isabella whispered back.

“Didn’t tell him what?”

“The truth,” she said. “That secret I told you about.”

Still staring at the field, probably since Brodie was hanging off third and contemplating stealing home, Savvy frowned. “Well, you have got to take care of that today. There’s something going on between you two, and you need to get those old problems out of the way so you can make this thing work. He’s too good of a catch for you to miss out on.” Then she shoved Isabella’s shoulder with hers. “And you’re too good of a catch for him to miss out on, too.”

“He may not want to catch me once I tell him,” Isabella mumbled, tired of denying the truth that kept staring her in the face and kicking her in the heart. As much as she fought it and as much as she wanted to keep her guard up after what had happened with Richard, each and every time she was around Titus Jameson, she realized how very opposite he was to her ex. And how amazing it’d be to be on the receiving end of his love.

No longer paying attention to anything beyond the game, Savvy didn’t hear her comment. “If he knocks Brodie in, we’ll win. We haven’t beaten the Stockville team in three years, and we’re about to do it now.” She yelled, “Come on, Titus! You’ve got this. Bring Brodie in!”

Isabella also watched the man at the plate, the bat held high and his stance quite impressive. The baseball uniform did do amazing things to his fit physique. His back muscles, usually displayed in the soft cotton of his work shirt, were even more prominent in the jersey fabric. She watched as his hands opened and closed around the bat as he got a better grip and prepared for the pitch, and she recalled how capable those hands were at handling wood, a hammer, nails...and at hugging his little girl.

And even when she’d warned her heart that there could never be anything between them beyond friendship, she’d still found herself wondering several times over the past week what it’d feel like to be in those arms.

The first two pitches were balls, and Savvy was none too happy about it. “Come on! Throw him something he can hit!”

Though the pitcher didn’t seem to notice her, Titus stepped out of the batter’s box, looked to the stands and grinned. Then he stepped back into the box and waited for the next pitch.

“Yell something for him,” Savvy urged.

Isabella had never been the type to yell at a ball game. Richard would have thought she’d gone crazy to act that way in public. But she did want to encourage him now, so she cupped her hands and yelled, “You can do it, Titus!”

And she saw his shoulders lift, watched his hands open and flex around the bat again, and knew that he’d actually heard her cheering him on. Then the pitcher threw the ball and the crack of the bat hitting it was earsplitting, as was the sound of the crowd cheering as the ball soared over center field toward the pine trees well beyond the fence.

“Home run!” the announcer called over the crackly PA system. “Claremont wins!”

Savvy grabbed Isabella in a hug that nearly took her breath away. “See what happens when you yell for your man!” Then she started down the stands to find Brodie, laughing and high-fiving the other guys on the team, and all of them clapping Titus on the back as he crossed home plate or shoving him the way guys do when they’ve gained a victory.

The stands cleared out as the townsfolk went down to congratulate the team, and she followed suit. She didn’t want to stand there by herself, but she also wasn’t certain about the appropriate thing for her to do or say to Titus. As she’d told Savvy, Titus wasn’t her guy, and she was pretty sure she’d made him angry yesterday. And then there was the fact that she’d been crying when she left him last night, and she hadn’t told him why.

He might not even want her to say anything to him now.

That notion disintegrated when he left the team and headed directly toward Isabella.