Главная страница | Современные любовные романы | Family Wanted

Family Wanted
Renee Andrews


A Place to Call Home Isabella Gray has always longed for a small town to call home. Newly arrived in Claremont, Alabama, she might finally have the chance to find that–and more. Handsome Titus Jameson and his daughter, Savannah, immediately capture Isabella's attention. The motherless child reminds Isabella of herself growing up, and she's determined to help bring the little girl out of her shell. But Isabella has been keeping a secret from the man she's fallen for–and she's torn. She knows telling him the real reason she came to Claremont is the right thing to do–but revealing the truth could break everyone's hearts.







A Place to Call Home

Isabella Gray has always longed for a small town to call home. Newly arrived in Claremont, Alabama, she might finally have the chance to find that—and more. Handsome Titus Jameson and his daughter, Savannah, immediately capture Isabella’s attention. The motherless child reminds Isabella of herself growing up, and she’s determined to help bring the little girl out of her shell. But Isabella has been keeping a secret from the man she’s fallen for—and she’s torn. She knows telling him the real reason she came to Claremont is the right thing to do—but revealing the truth could break everyone’s hearts.


“Isn’t this great, Daddy?”

“Yes,” he said, “it is.” And he made a mental note not to get too used to it. Isabella had brought Savannah home and then stayed to help watch her so he could work, something that probably most of his friends in Claremont would’ve done. He didn’t need to think anything more of it than that, and he shouldn’t feel guilty about enjoying this time with her so soon after Nan’s death. She was a friend, helping them out by cooking a meal. That was it.

Isabella motioned toward the three place settings. “I kind of invited myself to have dinner with y’all,” she said. “Is that okay?”

He pushed Savannah’s chair in so she could reach the table better and then took a step toward Isabella. Titus assumed his emotions had been obvious, if she’d have even considered that he might not want her to stay. After everything she’d done for him, everything she’d done for Savannah, he wouldn’t ask her to leave.

Plus, he wasn’t ready for her to go.


RENEE ANDREWS spends a lot of time in the gym. No, she isn’t working out. Her husband, a former All-American gymnast, co-owns ACE Cheer Company. Renee is a kidney donor and actively supports organ donation. When she isn’t writing, she enjoys traveling with her husband and bragging about their sons, daughter-in-law and grandsons. For more info on her books or on living donors, visit her website at reneeandrews.com (http://reneeandrews.com).


Family Wanted

Renee Andrews






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


The Lord is my light and my salvation.

Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold

of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

—Psalms 27:1


For Brother Wayne Dunaway, my preacher and the inspiration for Brother Henry in all of the Claremont books. I appreciate your love for the Lord and your willingness to share your vast knowledge, particularly with young and upcoming preachers. We have been blessed that our sons have had the privilege of studying with you.


Contents

Cover (#uab4671ba-a443-50b5-b61d-4383b72b2373)

Back Cover Text (#ub12059ab-e4e2-5e99-9aea-323e5889ca8d)

Introduction (#u7ba39e1a-cc51-5dfc-87e1-13800bf648ea)

About the Author (#u46e22ac5-d71a-5b3c-acbe-7617159131a7)

Title Page (#u0166baea-93d9-5ddd-99ea-8abde0f02361)

Bible Verse (#u4d1656f0-393a-5dde-bd80-877ab662216a)

Dedication (#u5cdbb244-617b-5e99-ac02-cae35591259f)

Chapter One (#u05060947-2844-54bf-a88d-e4d92de0496a)

Chapter Two (#uecd5975e-115e-58f2-a0fa-42be1747a867)

Chapter Three (#u2907d308-e4e9-590c-87e6-d990b31337d3)

Chapter Four (#uac50ade5-f35b-5b05-bcbc-9e3c4ae26a45)

Chapter Five (#uf89d1999-e79b-53cb-85de-709364782c3f)

Chapter Six (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)

Dear Reader (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


Chapter One (#ulink_6b670ede-36b7-58a0-af18-584bd9304c90)

Dear Titus, hurting you was the last thing I ever intended to do.

Isabella Gray drove beneath the wooded canopy leading to the future home of Willow’s Haven, trepidation shimmying down her spine. An orphanage. The man she’d promised to see had to be building an orphanage. Oh, they might call it something different, a “child home,” but Isabella wasn’t fooled by the tender name.

She pushed aside memories of the past—dark rooms and muffled cries, a hungry stomach and filthy sheets—and focused on what she planned to do. She’d talk to Titus Jameson. Once that was done, she’d never set foot near another orphanage—or child home—again. Then she’d leave Claremont, Alabama, and go...

Isabella had no idea where to go. Certainly not back to Atlanta. But after she talked to this man, she’d start her new life. New location. She’d dreamed about living in a small town, a place where everyone knew everyone’s name and cared about each other. She’d read about those tiny towns, but Richard hadn’t thought them worthy of a visit. Throughout their ten years of marriage, Isabella asked repeatedly if they could take a trip to one, but Richard never understood her desire or the point. What would his colleagues think if he vacationed in some Podunk hole-in-the-wall town? He had an image to maintain, and he wouldn’t taint it trying to satisfy her whimsical idealization of small-town America.

But now that he had a new wife to help him preserve his image, Isabella could finally do those things she dreamed of. She’d get a job. She had a degree, after all. Surely she could find some form of employment, even if she’d never worked a day in her life.

The thickness of the woods shrouding the long, gravel driveway gave the impression that the trees were closing in, and the unwanted yet familiar trickle of claustrophobia seeped through Isabella’s veins.

The Lord is my light and my salvation. Whom shall I fear? The Lord is the stronghold of my life; of whom shall I be afraid?

She breathed in, absorbed each word of the verse that had seen her through the scariest years of her childhood and continued down the darkened driveway. Ten minutes ago, she’d admired the brilliant sunshine of the June afternoon, the expanses of cotton, soy and corn fields bordering the road leading to Claremont like a patchwork quilt welcoming her in her quest to do the right thing. But now, as the trees closed in, she didn’t feel welcomed. She felt warned. And she considered turning the car around and leaving without sharing information with a man she’d never met.

But she didn’t want to break her promise to the woman who had provided Isabella with the dearest friendship she’d ever known.

She’d expected to find a construction crew working on-site, but there was no sign of anyone except a guy riding a bulldozer on the opposite side of the property. A trailer sat on its own to the right. She assumed that was the makeshift office. She parked beside a navy pickup with a Jameson Construction Company magnet stuck to the driver’s door.

Time to see Nan’s ex-husband. Her heart thudding loudly in her chest, Isabella climbed out and made her way toward the trailer, but a man in a baseball uniform opened the door before she had a chance to knock.

“Oh, hello, I’m Brodie Evans.” He waved her inside. “You must be here about the ad in the paper. Savvy said she got a couple of calls from people wanting to interview. Come on in. I’m heading out, but she’s on her way down from our place. She’ll talk to you about the job.” He motioned to the tiny living area. “Have a seat.”

Isabella sat on the sofa, not so much because she wanted to but because she needed to gather her thoughts and figure out what was going on. However, before she could ask questions, the door burst open and a teenage boy entered. “Hey, Dad, we’re gonna be late if we don’t leave now.”

“I know.” Brodie pointed to the teen. “This is our son, Dylan.”

“Hi,” Dylan said.

“Dylan, this is...” Brodie let the word hang. “I’m sorry. I didn’t get your name.”

“Isabella. Isabella Gray.”

“Nice to meet you,” Dylan said, holding out his hand.

Bewildered, she didn’t know what else to do but shake his hand. “You, too.”

Then the door opened again, and two little girls entered, their bright-eyed faces and blond pigtails so similar that Isabella wouldn’t have been able to tell them apart.

“Hey, Daddy,” they chimed, energy bristling as they bustled in. “Hey, Dylan.” Then they noticed her and one asked, “What’s your name?”

“I’m Isabella,” she said, as a blond woman and another little girl entered.

The third little girl was about the same size as the other two, probably the same age, but she had long dark hair and a solemn disposition, as if she’d gotten in trouble before they arrived.

“Isabella, this is my wife, Savvy,” Brodie said. “Savvy, this is Isabella Gray. She’s here about the job.”

“Hi. Let me get the girls situated and then you and I can chat.” She turned to Brodie. “Y’all need to get going, don’t you?”

He kissed her cheek. “Heading on out,” he said. Then to Isabella, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too.” Isabella knew she’d need to set the record straight soon, but from what she could tell, Titus Jameson wasn’t in the trailer. Maybe he’d already left for the day and the company truck she’d seen had been driven by the guy on the bulldozer.

“One second.” Savvy held up a finger to Isabella and then turned to the girls. “Rose, Daisy, y’all take Savannah to the playroom and show her your new dolls.”

“Come on, Savannah.” One of the girls grabbed the quiet one’s hand and tugged her to the playroom.

Isabella didn’t get a good look at the third girl’s face, because she never took her attention from the floor as she walked, the same way Isabella had walked around the orphanage when she was about the same age. Sad. Lost.

What had happened to that little girl?

She couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “Is she okay? Savannah?”

“I can tell you’re going to be good at identifying the children who need special attention,” Savvy said, her voice barely above a whisper so the girls wouldn’t hear in the next room. “That’ll be important if you work here, even if you’re in the office. We want everyone to care about the children and understand that they’ll need plenty of love to make it through the hard times.” She glanced toward the playroom and sighed. “Savannah is visiting our girls today. Her mom left her and her dad a few years ago, and even though I wasn’t living here and didn’t know Savannah then, her father said she’s never been the same. She does seem to enjoy playing with Rose and Daisy, though, so I plan to keep inviting her over and offering to watch her whenever I can.”

Isabella nodded, glad that the little girl still had her father and that she also had friends in Rose and Daisy, and a tenderhearted lady like Savvy watching out for her. Isabella hadn’t had anyone watching after her back then.

She started to tell Savvy that she hadn’t come for the job, but before she could speak, a knock sounded and then the door opened. Isabella’s breath caught in her throat as a construction worker entered wearing an olive-green T-shirt with Jameson Construction on the left of his chest, well-worn jeans and boots. She’d seen construction workers before, but none had ever looked like this. In fact, she would say he was way beyond nice looking. He was riveting, in a rough-and-rugged, outdoorsy and all-out-masculine kind of way. His hair was dark, a little longer than she’d have thought she would like, but she did like it, very much. And he had the kind of fit physique that you’d expect to see climbing the side of a mountain in a Mountain Hardwear ad. Was this the man from the bulldozer?

Isabella didn’t know what was happening to her senses. She wasn’t the type of female to ogle a good-looking man. In fact, one of Richard’s complaints had been that she was too reserved, a little distant even, when she first saw or met strangers. And it wasn’t as if she was looking for a man to fill some void in her life. She didn’t want another relationship. At merely eighteen, she’d allowed her attraction for Richard and everything he offered to lure her into a marriage that never should’ve happened.

So she resolved that she’d get a firm grip on this sudden yet undeniable fascination.

* * *

Titus had been clearing land at the site for Willow’s Haven since sunup, yet he’d only finished the space intended for the first cabin. At this rate, it’d take him until the middle of July before he had the place ready to break ground. But he wouldn’t complain. He’d prayed for work, and God had granted his request in abundance.

This year, he’d take Savannah shopping for new school clothes come August, a luxury he hadn’t been able to afford last year due to the economy’s plummet and the limited span of construction needed in Claremont.

Entering the trailer, he glanced around and saw no sign of his little girl. Savvy, however, stood a few feet from the door.

“Hey, Titus.”

“Hey, Savvy. I’m done for today. Savannah been okay?” What he wanted to ask was if she seemed happy, if she smiled, or if she at least joined in to play with the girls.

“Of course. She’s precious.”

Not as much information as he wanted. This morning’s call from the latest child psychologist had informed him that the woman didn’t know what else to do for Savannah and that she believed Savannah would work her own way out of the depression. But, like all the others, she hadn’t told Titus anything about when or how that’d happen.

“I appreciate you watching her today, but we should probably be getting home now.”

Savvy’s eyes held a hint of sympathy, the same type of look he’d received often since Nan left. “Rose and Daisy enjoy playing with her. You bring her anytime. In fact, they’d love it if she came every day this summer while you’re working here. It helps me out when they have company because it keeps them entertained.”

He wondered how much entertainment Savannah could provide if she was as solemn as she was at home, but it would help him to bring her on-site, so he said, “Thanks, I will. And let Brodie know I finished clearing the site for the first cabin.” He paused for a moment, suddenly aware that they weren’t the only ones in the room. He’d been so interested in learning about Savannah’s day that he hadn’t noticed the woman sitting on the sofa in the living area. But now he couldn’t take his eyes away. She had long, auburn hair that fell in subtle curls past her shoulders. Though she was seated, Titus could tell she had petite features and wasn’t very tall, and she had eyes as vividly green as the forest in the spring.

Titus was around pretty women often in Claremont. Typically, he barely noticed more than their names. All of the women from town knew him as Savannah’s father and, more importantly, Nan’s husband. And as the man whose wife walked out on him three years ago. This lady didn’t know him, so she obviously didn’t see him that way, and yet there was something in her manner of looking at him—almost as if she could see directly to his soul and that she “got” what he’d been through. “Hello,” he said.

She shifted on the sofa, as though his greeting made her a little uncomfortable, which only intrigued him more. Then she moistened her lips and said, “Hi.”

“Oh,” Savvy said, showing her palms as she began her apology, “I’m so sorry. I forgot a proper introduction. Isabella, this is Titus Jameson. He owns Jameson Construction in Claremont, and he’s the best builder around. Titus, this is Isabella Gray.”

“Nice to meet you,” he said, with an inexplicable desire to know more about the stranger. “And if you want the truth, I’m the only builder around.” He’d hoped to elicit some response, but she merely stared at him, green eyes studying him with such inquisitiveness that Titus wondered how much she already knew. But Savvy had introduced him as though she hadn’t mentioned Titus.

Then why did he see so much compassion and a hint of confusion in the stunning lady’s eyes?

“Daddy?” Savannah entered the room carrying a piece of construction paper. “I made this for you.” She held it toward him, a crayon drawing centering the page.

“Hey, sweetie.” He took the paper, and his mouth tensed before he managed a slight smile. “That’s a good picture.” He pointed to the tall stick figure on the page. “Is that me?”

She nodded.

“And that’s you?” he asked, indicating the smaller figure with dark hair down her back.

Another nod.

“And that says...” He hesitated, pointing to the letters across the top—MY FAMLE.

“My family,” Savannah said softly.

He tenderly brought his arm around her, pulled her close and kissed her cheek. “That’s a nice picture,” he said, his heart breaking at the lonely image on the page.

She didn’t smile but moved her head against his shoulder in agreement.

Titus suspected Savvy knew how the drawing affected him and—he glanced at Isabella again and saw that she looked as sad as he felt—it seemed Isabella also understood. How, he didn’t know, but the concern was evident on her face.

Titus wanted to talk to her, to find out why she seemed to care so much and also to determine why, when they’d barely met, he was drawn to her more than any woman in the past three years.

It’d been a long time, but Titus knew this feeling, remembered it well. Had missed it but also felt guilty having it.

Attraction.

* * *

Isabella watched the touching interaction between father and daughter and finally got the chance to see Savannah’s face, the younger face of her dear friend, and she knew she couldn’t go through with her promise.

How could she tell this man everything Nan had said about him and then also tell him that she’d never muttered a single word about their little girl? A little girl who reminded Isabella so much of herself at that age. Lost. Confused. Abandoned by someone who should’ve stayed, who should’ve loved forever.

Isabella barely contained her tears as she watched Titus and Savannah leave. But she held it together. She had to. Because while she may have come here to tell Titus what Nan had said, she had a different reason for being here now.

That little girl needed help. And Isabella knew how she felt, probably more than anyone else.

After they left the trailer, she said to Savvy, “I’m interested in the position.” And, she silently added, I want to help the little girl Nan left behind.

* * *

After telling Savvy she wanted to apply for the job yesterday afternoon, Isabella had promised to bring her résumé by today and then she’d driven through Claremont, as tiny as Brodie Evans had depicted. A town square centered everything and seemed to be the place to go last night, with lots of people shopping and visiting, children playing around the fountain, elderly couples chatting on wrought iron benches.

She’d needed something to cheer her up after leaving Willow’s Haven. Although she’d decided God had sent her here to help with the child home and Savannah, she’d still been so brokenhearted and confused.

Nan hadn’t told her everything, and Isabella couldn’t figure out why. How had her friend left that precious little girl behind? Or that man, a hard worker and such a sweet daddy? And, have mercy, undeniably breathtaking, too. Nan certainly never told her that. Isabella hadn’t been able to get the images of him off her mind.

Titus, all muscled and impressive, reminding her how it felt to experience instant attraction for a man. Titus, dropping to one knee to talk to his sensitive little girl. And Titus, looking at Isabella as though he could see into her heart, as though he might actually understand the pain of her past.

She thought of his daughter, Nan’s daughter. Savannah had looked as forlorn as Isabella had been at that age. Nan had known how much that hurt Isabella, not having a mom around. Isabella had told her. She’d confessed everything about her childhood. She’d thought Nan was the first true friend she’d ever had and that they’d shared everything.

Isabella had. Why hadn’t Nan? If Isabella had known that Savannah was here, she’d have made Nan get in touch with Titus so Savannah could have seen her mom one more time.

Last night, she had seen so many children with their parents on the square. True depictions of family. And she’d thought of Savannah’s drawing, the two figures so alone in the center of a plain white page.

“Nan, what were you thinking?” she asked, driving toward the child home.

She’d prayed for guidance before she started this journey, and when she’d ended up at the charming Claremont Bed-and-Breakfast on Main Street last night, she hadn’t questioned that God directed her path. She’d take the job at the child home, assuming Savvy offered it, and if everything went as well as she expected, she’d move her things from Atlanta in a month or so. She didn’t want to be too hasty in her decision to relocate, but in her heart she already knew that this was where she should be.

Within fifteen minutes, she knocked on the door of the trailer with her résumé in hand. She’d awakened before dawn and spent over an hour searching the internet for résumé guidelines and then generating her first one. And she felt very good about the business administration degree listed under the Education heading. Richard had enrolled her in the University of Georgia as soon as they’d returned from their honeymoon, saying that his colleagues wouldn’t understand if his wife didn’t have a proper education.

She’d been so eager to please him that she hadn’t objected, because she assumed she’d be able to use the degree to obtain a job. However, Richard only wanted her to be educated—he didn’t want her to use the education. A wife who worked meant her husband wasn’t successful enough to support them on his own. And he wouldn’t have any part of that.

Isabella knocked again, but no one answered. Then she heard a vehicle coming up the driveway and turned to see Titus Jameson arriving in the same navy pickup she’d seen yesterday. She held up her hand in a wave, and he did the same, parking the truck next to her car. Nan had been a stunning lady; Isabella should’ve known she’d have been married to an equally gorgeous man.

But...wow.

He climbed out and opened the door of his extended cab so Savannah could exit.

Isabella watched them, her heart skittering in her chest at the sight of him in the green work shirt, blue jeans and boots. He’d looked good yesterday when he was soaked with sweat, but he looked incredible all cleaned up and ready for a new day, too.

“Nobody there?” he asked, as he and Savannah neared.

“I guess not,” Isabella said.

“Probably running some errands.”

Isabella nodded. “I can wait.” Then she looked at Savannah, clutching a doll in one hand and a small pink bag in the other. Isabella placed the résumé on a deck table by the door and put her purse on top of it to keep it in place. Then she sat on the top step to talk to the little girl. “What do you have there?”

She looked at her daddy, and he touched her back. “Go ahead and tell her what you’ve got.”

Isabella patted the spot beside her and was pleased when Savannah sat down. “This is Bessie. She’s gonna play with Rose and Daisy’s dolls.”

“That sounds like fun,” Isabella said. “I like her brown hair. It’s like yours, isn’t it?”

Savannah frowned. “I want mine like Rose and Daisy’s,” she said, “but I can’t do it, and Daddy can’t, either.”

Isabella then noticed that the underside of Savannah’s hair looked matted. She apparently had made the effort to create a ponytail, and it had ended badly. “Would you like for me to try to do it?”

Savannah looked from Isabella to her daddy. “Daddy said Miss Savvy could,” she said. “Do you know how?”

“I think so.”

Savannah handed over the pink bag, her small fingers gently brushing Isabella’s palm with the action. “This is what Daddy bought for my hair. It’s got a brush in it.” She unzipped the bag and withdrew a pink plastic brush. “You unfold it like this and then you brush with it.” She popped the pink brush out and locked it into place, then handed it to Isabella.

“Okay. Why don’t you sit here in front of me, and I’ll see what I can do.”

Savannah’s mouth lifted in a subtle smile, and she glanced at her father before turning and sitting on the step in front of Isabella. “Sometimes it hurts when Daddy does it, and I cry.”

He frowned and shrugged. “That’s true.”

Isabella was touched by the relationship before her, a daddy so concerned for his little girl. What would it have been like to have had a parent care that much?

“Well, let’s see if I can manage not to make you cry today.” She thought about the statement and then added, “Not that your daddy did anything wrong, but I’ve had a little more practice.” She glanced in the pink bag and saw a teeny hairbrush at the bottom. “Look, there’s a little brush for your doll.” She fished it out and then handed it to Savannah. “Why don’t you brush her hair while I brush yours?”

* * *

Isabella was obviously a natural with children, and it touched Titus immensely that his little girl already seemed to be warming to her.

Savannah rubbed her hand down her doll’s hair as Isabella gently drew the brush through the top layer of Savannah’s long brown hair. Then she lifted that layer and flinched at the mess. Apparently, Titus flinched in reflex, and Savannah noticed.

“Did I make it too bad?” She twisted around to look pleadingly at Isabella. “Can you not do it now?”

“No, I can do it,” Isabella said. “I’ll just take my time.” Then she tenderly worked her fingers into the knot to loosen it before she tackled it with the brush. “Do you go to school yet?” she asked, obviously still trying to get Savannah’s attention on something besides her tangled hair.

“Not now. Now it’s summer,” Savannah said softly.

Titus watched as Isabella eased her fingers through, the knot appearing to give a little with her effort. “That’s right. How could I forget that? But before it was summer, did you go to school?”

Savannah nodded, which must have caused her hair to pull, because tiny tears crested the bottom of her eyes and trickled free. “Ow.”

Titus flinched again. He couldn’t help it.

Isabella couldn’t see Savannah’s face, but she saw his and leaned forward to spot Savannah’s tears. “Oh, dear, I’m so sorry about that.”

“That’s okay.” Savannah blinked a couple of times and tried to act older than her age, the way she’d often done since that day when she’d been forced to grow up overnight, the day her mother left.

Titus watched her visibly compose herself to speak, another quality she’d learned since their world fell apart. “I was in kindergarten last year,” she said. “This time I’ll be in first grade.”

He was pleased that she wanted to communicate with Isabella. Typically, she remained silent unless absolutely necessary, so seeing her engage in conversation was a huge step. He thought about calling the child psychologist and relaying the event, but he’d already decided they weren’t going back. Besides, that woman hadn’t been able to get Savannah to utter more than a couple of sentences during the entire time they’d been going to her. Isabella had her talking in a mere day. Obviously, this woman was special, and Titus said a prayer of thanks to God for sending her their way.

“What was your teacher’s name?” Isabella asked, while Titus continued enjoying the vision of his little girl slowly but surely creeping out of her shell.

“My teacher was Mrs. Carter,” Savannah said, “but I don’t know who my teacher next year will be yet.”

The knot released, and Isabella grinned as her fingers moved all the way through. “I think I’ve got it,” she said, then took the brush again and gently pulled it through the mass of hair. “You’ve got a lot of hair, don’t you?”

Savannah turned toward Isabella, her eyes wide. “Mommy said that, too.”

Titus fought the emotion pulled from her words. He could almost see Nan, sitting on the couch with Savannah seated in front of her on the floor. They’d often watched television together that way, with Nan brushing Savannah’s hair.

“Well, your mommy was right,” Isabella said. “So, do you want a ponytail, or do you want two pigtails, like Rose and Daisy had yesterday?”

“Two pigtails.”

“All right then.” Isabella parted the hair down the middle, then gathered it into a pigtail on each side while Titus watched, amazed. She made it look so easy, but he had no doubt that if he tried, he’d probably have a worse tangle than the one Savannah had created this morning. Unlike Rose and Daisy’s pigtails, which were short and curly, Savannah’s were long, draping well past her shoulders.

But he knew the length of her pigtails wouldn’t matter to Savannah. What mattered was that she had something like her friends, and Isabella had helped that happen.

“All done,” she said, looping the elastic band around the second pigtail.

Savannah pulled a small mirror with a princess on the back from her bag and held it out to see each of the pigtails. She turned and gave Isabella the smile that Titus had been waiting for. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Isabella said, and then, while Titus’s heart squeezed tightly in his chest, Savannah scooted closer and put her arms around her in a hug.

“I’m gonna play with Rose and Daisy today,” she said, her voice more cheerful than Titus had heard in a very long time. Then she glanced toward Titus and added somberly, “I’m supposed to go to swim lessons tonight, but I don’t think I want to.”

His jaw tensed with his disappointment. “You don’t want to give it another try? That was only your first lesson last week, sweetie. You might like it better this time.”

“I want to swim,” she whispered, turning her attention from him to the doll in her hands, “but I’m afraid.”

Titus’s gaze caught Isabella’s, and she looked as though she understood that he had no idea what to do, what to say, to help his daughter.

Then her eyes brightened, and she gave him a smile before telling Savannah, “You know what? I taught swimming lessons when I lived in Atlanta. Maybe I could help you learn to swim.”

Savannah’s eyes lifted. “But I’m scared. I really want to, though.”

“We would go very slow,” Isabella said, “and I’ll be right there with you, if you decide to let me help.” She paused and then added, “I sure would like to.”

“What do you think, Savannah?” Titus asked. He said to Isabella, “I’d be happy to pay you for private lessons, if that’s what you’re offering.”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t need to pay me. I’m happy to do it. And I didn’t get paid for teaching in Atlanta. I volunteered.” She shrugged. “It’s something I enjoy.”

“What do you say, Savannah?” he asked, throwing in another quick prayer for God to set this in motion.

She took another look in the mirror at her pigtails, then turned to Isabella. “I’ll try.”

Isabella wrapped an arm around her and gently squeezed. “That’s great.” She looked to Titus. “You’ll have to let me know where the nearest pool is.”

“John and Dana Cutter just put in a pool at their dude ranch, and they told me I could bring Savannah to swim anytime. I’m sure they’d be fine with you teaching her there.” He couldn’t believe this change of events, this incredible breakthrough with his little girl.

“That sounds great,” Isabella said. “Just let me know when y’all are ready to start.”

“You think I can learn it, Daddy?” Savannah asked, and he hated that he still heard hints of doubt and fear in her voice. “That I can swim?”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “I sure do,” he said as Savvy’s truck appeared in the driveway. She, Rose and Daisy waved as they parked beside Isabella’s car.

Seeing Savannah, the girls wasted no time climbing out. “Hey, Savannah! I like your hair!” one said.

“Me, too,” the other said. “And I like your doll. Do you want to bring her inside to play in the toy room? Our dolls are already there.”

Savannah looked at Titus, and he nodded his approval. “Go ahead,” he said. “Have fun.” Savannah gave Isabella a little nod before following them inside.

“I appreciate you offering to teach her to swim,” Titus said after the girls entered the trailer. He appreciated it more than she’d ever know. Her kindness had placed a crack in the tough shield Savannah had set in place after Nan left.

“I’m looking forward to it,” she said.

“You teach swim lessons?” Savvy asked.

“I volunteered teaching swim lessons in Atlanta and loved it.” She pointed to the paper beneath her purse. “I included it on my résumé, even though it isn’t office experience.”

“It’s experience helping children, so it’s totally applicable for this job. And who knows? Maybe we’ll build a pool here for the kids eventually. If you’re gonna dream, might as well dream big, right?”

Titus looked toward the trailer. “Right,” he said, and he realized that his dreams for Savannah may have started coming true today.

Thank You, God.


Chapter Two (#ulink_2fac8231-8ca5-5e7a-974d-7b8840cea3b3)

Sometimes, God gives us tough decisions to make, and maybe I made the wrong one.

The main room of the trailer had a small kitchen to the left, a couple of desks in the center forming a workspace and a tiny sitting area to the right with a sofa and television. “You brought your résumé?” Savvy asked, guiding Isabella to the kitchen table.

“I did.” Isabella handed her the piece of paper.

Savvy scanned it as she spoke. “After you left yesterday, I realized I never told you the history behind Willow’s Haven. Brodie reminded me that it’s important everyone who works here knows how the place has come about and the reason behind our desire to help children.”

Isabella had wondered what caused Savvy and her husband to start the home. “Were you orphaned?”

“Technically, no,” Savvy said, “but my mother abandoned me when I was born and left me to be raised by my grandparents. I was fortunate, because my grandparents are amazing, but there are a lot of kids who are abandoned by their parents and have nowhere to go, which is why we’ll help children who are either orphaned or abandoned. That’s the reason we’re classified as a children’s home, rather than an orphanage.”

Isabella could hear the compassion in Savvy’s voice as she talked about the home, and it touched her heart. “It sounds amazing,” she said, praying she’d get this job and have an opportunity to be a part of something that would truly change children’s lives. “Where did you get the name, Willow’s Haven?”

“It’s named after my best friend, Willow Jackson. This trailer was her home.” She took another look at the résumé and glanced up at Isabella. “Willow passed away a little over a year ago and left her children to me. Brodie and I couldn’t get over how much love Dylan, Rose and Daisy needed after Willow died, and we couldn’t stop thinking about the children who didn’t have anyone to provide that love. We knew there were orphaned and abandoned children who didn’t have anyone who would talk to them about things that are truly important, like faith and God.”

Isabella’s throat tightened. She’d never had anyone mention faith or God in the orphanages she’d lived in. She’d latched on to every snippet of God’s love that she’d learned on the rare occasions she’d gotten to attend church, primarily at Easter and Christmas, and that was only because those were the times the churches gave cash to the orphanages or foster homes. But those tiny glimpses of God, whenever she got them, saw her through the hard times. Gave her hope. Even if she’d seen Richard as something of a savior when she’d been eighteen.

“So the plan for Willow’s Haven is to provide a Christian environment where children will know that they are loved by the staff and, more importantly, by God. And our ultimate goal, of course, is to place each child in a loving, Christian home.”

“That sounds incredible.” Isabella wondered how different her life would’ve been if she’d have been placed somewhere like Willow’s Haven. Would she have responded so quickly to all of the attention Richard Gray provided?

Savvy’s dark eyes practically sparkled with excitement. “I know. We were so blessed that Ryan Brooks and Dana Brooks Cutter—the brother and sister at the head of Brooks International—thought so, too. Their company is funding the child home. And I was so excited to hear from you so soon. I just placed the ad three days ago.”

Isabella didn’t want to lie about seeing an ad that she still hadn’t laid eyes on. “I believe God led me here.”

Savvy’s mouth lifted on one side. “I’m thinking you may be right.” She pointed toward the kitchen. “I made a pot of coffee earlier. Would you like some?”

“Sure, but I can fix it.” Isabella served herself a cup of coffee with plenty of cream and sugar. “You want some, too?”

“Already had three cups.” Savvy held up the résumé. “You have a business administration degree, but it doesn’t appear that you’ve used it.”

“No, but I’d like to.”

Savvy looked as though she wanted to ask more about the degree but then thankfully moved down the page. “Okay, I see your volunteer work teaching swimming at the Y, but this says you’ve also been volunteering at the charity hospital in Atlanta, up until last week?”

Isabella sipped her coffee, enjoyed the delicious warm liquid on her tongue. “I put the name of the administrator under my references. I really enjoyed working there, volunteering there, I guess I should say.”

Savvy wrote something on the paper. “What made you start volunteering at those places, and why did you leave?”

She’d started volunteering at the Y because Nan told her she’d enjoy working there. Nan had held a paid position as an office assistant at the Y until she was too sick and went to the hospital, where she met Isabella.

Isabella wouldn’t tell Savvy about her relationship with Titus’s ex-wife, so she focused on the other reason she’d started volunteering. “My husband—ex-husband—and I divorced last year. I wasn’t feeling very good about myself at the time, and I wanted to do something to help others while I waited for the divorce to be final. Then I planned to move away, find a small town and start my life new, away from the big-city lifestyle.”

“You don’t get much farther away from big-city than Claremont,” Savvy said, grinning.

“I realized that last night, when I went to the town square.” Isabella recalled the quaint Mayberry-type atmosphere that radiated from the place.

“And so your divorce just finalized, and you were looking for a small town where you could settle down?”

“No. It was final six months ago, but I...” She struggled to say enough, without saying too much. “I became friends with one of the patients at the hospital, and I didn’t want to leave until—” she carefully picked her words “—until she no longer needed me.”

Savvy’s hand moved to her heart. “You’re going to be great here, you know. You may even be perfect to oversee a cabin eventually, but having you in the office will work, as well.”

Isabella wanted her to understand how much she already felt drawn to Willow’s Haven. “I was raised in orphanages,” she said. “And they were terrible. I won’t go into detail, because I honestly don’t want to think about it—or talk about it—ever again. But when you described what your plans were for Willow’s Haven, I felt like God brought me here for a reason. Because I know how children feel when they’re abandoned, and I know how important it would’ve been to me to have someone who cared, someone who told me about God and someone who truly loved me.”

Two thick tears trickled down Savvy’s cheeks, and she brushed them away. “I knew God answered my prayers with you,” she said softly. “I’d like to go ahead and show you everything today, what computer software we’ve bought for the office, the files that we’re going through in our search for children needing a home. There are plenty of kids—too many, truth be told—but we want to be ready to take as many as we can as soon as possible. As the cabins go up, we want to fill them.” She motioned toward one of the small desks with a laptop. “Everything’s over there. We’ll go ahead and get started. Sound good?”

“That sounds great.” Eagerness flooded Isabella’s soul. God had brought her here. She could feel it. And she couldn’t wait to get started.

“I thought it would,” Savvy said. “And while you’re figuring things out, I’ll call your references. But I already know that everything will be fine.”

Happy with this turn of events, Isabella took her coffee and started across the room as the phone on the desk began to ring. “Do you want me to get that?”

“Sure,” Savvy said. “Just answer, ‘Willow’s Haven.’”

Isabella picked up the phone on the third ring. “Willow’s Haven,” she said. “Can I help you?”

“Well, ma’am, I hope you can. I’m trying to get in touch with a Mr. Titus Jameson. I called his office, and the voice mail left this number. Would he happen to be there? It’s rather important.”

“Yes, he is. Hold on one moment, and I’ll see if he’s available.” She lowered the receiver and said to Savvy, “It’s a gentleman looking for Titus. He said it’s important.”

She nodded. “His cell doesn’t pick up out here. Let me see if I can get him.”

Isabella waited while Savvy went outside. She heard her calling Titus’s name, and then she returned.

“He wasn’t far away,” she said. “He’s coming.”

A few minutes later, Titus entered, his forehead already starting to dampen with sweat and his work shirt beginning to cling to his muscled frame.

Isabella handed him the phone while trying not to stare.

Not an easy feat.

“Thanks,” he said, his fingertips brushing hers in the exchange.

“You’re welcome.” She didn’t want to blush, but she thought it might be happening anyway, so she turned her attention to the laptop in front of her, even though the only thing on it was a screensaver of Dylan, Rose and Daisy.

“This is Titus,” he said.

Isabella heard the other man’s voice, a distant mumbling through the receiver as he spoke to Titus, but she couldn’t make out the words. And she really didn’t want to eavesdrop on the conversation, so she moved the mouse around on the computer with the hopes that something would show up besides the screensaver.

Savvy had gone to the kitchen area and started washing dishes. But since Titus took the call at the desk, and there wasn’t a whole lot of room for him to walk around and talk with the cordless, he simply sat in the chair opposite Isabella and listened to the man on the other end.

Which made it easy for her to see when the color drained from his face.

“She’s...dead?” His eyes slid closed and he remained silent for a moment, while the other man’s muffled words continued to sound through the phone. Then Titus took a deep breath and answered, “No, I’m not her brother,” he said, his words slow and deliberate, as though he struggled to get them out. “I’m her husband.”


Chapter Three (#ulink_418ff5c0-6f44-5d9e-bf6e-5fa48cdb7b92)

I thought I could handle anything, that we could handle anything, but I learned my limitations.

It’d taken Titus six days to gather the right words to tell Savannah that her mommy would never come back. The phone call from the hospital had sucker punched him, and he hadn’t known how to deal with the blow. Nan had been sick. Dying. And he hadn’t even known.

And his “closure” had been pathetic. Pitiful, even. Nan hadn’t had a funeral. An online memorial page had been set up by the hospital for guests to sign. There weren’t even any pictures. According to the guy from the hospital and the memorial page, Nan had chosen to donate her body to science in the hopes of curing the rare kidney disease that killed her. That, of course, was the type of thing the woman he knew and loved would’ve done.

But what had happened to Nan between the time she left and the time she died? He’d learned from the memorial page that she’d worked at the Atlanta inner-city YMCA before she’d gotten sick, but that was all. She’d had an entire new life that he knew nothing about.

During the past three years, he’d been confused. Hurt. But for the past six days, he’d been angry. And oddly enough, his anger hadn’t been focused on Nan but on God. How could He deal Titus this blow? How could He have turned his back so thoroughly on Titus and, even more, on Savannah?

Savannah. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about his little girl. She was already so sad from Nan’s abandonment, but now he couldn’t even offer her hope of seeing her mommy. And he wondered if he’d ever see her happy again.

But each time he doubted whether she could recover from all this, he thought of the way she lit up each morning when Isabella talked to her about what she planned to do to her hair. And he thought about the way she played with Rose and Daisy and the fact that those two little girls had lost their own mom not that long ago.

He knew Savannah could be okay, but it wouldn’t happen on its own, so he had to get out of his own funk and help his little girl. He’d hesitated about asking Isabella to do more than fix her hair each morning, because he couldn’t stop the feeling of guilt he experienced each time he was around her. He’d been attracted to her, very attracted to her, even before he learned of Nan’s passing.

Truthfully, he still was.

But his little girl had connected with Isabella, and he had the perfect means to allow them to intensify that bond and to help Savannah cope with this new pain of Nan’s death. Savannah wanted to swim, and Isabella had offered to teach her. Titus hadn’t done anything about that because he’d felt wrong for being attracted to Isabella at all. But he had to put his daughter’s needs first, so he’d deal with this attraction...and ask Isabella for help.

* * *

“My mommy is in heaven now.”

Isabella glanced up from the laptop to see Savannah, clutching the same doll she’d brought to the trailer each day since they’d first done hair together last week. She looked hopefully at Isabella as though expecting some kind of perfect response to the statement. Not knowing where this conversation would go, Isabella said a quick prayer for guidance and then said, “Yes, she is.”

A couple of blinks, a chew on her lower lip, and then Savannah added, “Daddy is sad.”

Isabella knew that was an understatement, since Titus hadn’t said a word about his wife’s passing since the phone call last week. In fact, each morning he entered the trailer, hugged and kissed Savannah before she started playing with Rose and Daisy and then worked like a madman until the sun went down. “I know he’s sad.”

And undoubtedly shocked, too. Isabella had also been shocked. That phone call had overturned the main thing she’d thought she knew about Nan. Titus hadn’t been her ex-husband; they were still married when she died. Isabella had no idea why her friend had lied about something like that, and now that Nan was gone, she’d never know.

She wanted to help Titus cope with the loss, but she barely knew him and certainly didn’t know what to say about his wife’s death. It wasn’t as if she could now tell him that she’d known Nan and had been with her, holding her hand, when she died.

The trailer door opened, and the twins bustled inside, their chatter quickly filling the room. “We got the stuff to make grilled cheeses,” Rose said, as Savvy followed them in with a bag of groceries she’d retrieved from their cabin. Rose and Daisy had asked to tag along when she went for the items, but Savannah had said she wanted to stay with Miss Isabella. She’d done this often over the past few days, asking to stay at the trailer with Isabella instead of leaving with the girls.

“My mommy went to heaven,” Savannah said to Savvy, in much the same sorrowful tone that she’d made the statement earlier.

Savvy glanced at Isabella before she responded, her features softening and her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I know, sweetheart. And I’m sure she’s happy there.” She forced a smile. “Everyone is happy in heaven.”

Savannah nodded and chewed her lip again while Rose and Daisy, completely oblivious to the conversation occurring in the kitchen, discussed which dolls they would play with first.

Isabella prayed Savannah would eventually be that happy again. And she also prayed that she could somehow make that happen. She also wanted to help Titus, but he clearly didn’t want to be helped.

Then again, he was still in the mourning stage, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t seen Nan in three years. Titus apparently dealt with his grief by working. And not speaking any more than necessary. He also hadn’t come to church Sunday, which had surprised Brodie and Savvy. They said he and Savannah were there every time the doors were open, so when Isabella agreed to visit the Claremont Community Church with her new friends, she’d expected to see him. That didn’t happen, which also made her question if he might be blaming God.

So much to wonder about the intriguing man, but not a whole lot to know for sure, since he was bound and determined to remain in his shell.

God, be with Titus. He’s hurting. We all can see it, and I’d really like to know what to do about it. He’s been dealt some terrible blows, and he’s such a hard worker and good daddy to Savannah. Please heal his heart, Lord. And if it be Your will, let me help.

She frowned, wondering if she should’ve prayed for God to let her help. Helping might mean getting closer to the man, and she’d been burned too badly by Richard to want to get close to any man again, even a man as intriguing as Titus. So she amended her prayer. God, let someone help him. And if it be Your will, let me help Savannah.

There. That prayer felt better.

“Why don’t y’all go play with your dolls while I make the sandwiches?” Savvy said to the trio of six-year-olds, pulling Isabella away from thoughts and prayers about Titus. “I’ll call you when they’re done.”

“Okay, Mommy. Come on, Savannah,” Daisy urged, taking Savannah’s arm and tugging her toward the playroom.

Savannah followed, her feet dragging in her traditional manner of reluctantly joining in the fun.

“Go on,” Isabella urged. “You’ll have a good time.”

Her shoulders lifted a little, and she followed the other girls into the playroom.

“I’m worried about her.” Savvy unwrapped the orange cheese slices and placed them on a plate near the stove.

Isabella moved to the refrigerator to retrieve the butter, then took her spot beside Savvy to spread it on the bread. The two of them had quickly grown accustomed to working together each day, whether on the computer going through the files of children needing a home or taking care of the twins and Savannah. She enjoyed having someone to talk to, to feel normal with. It reminded her of the way she’d been able to so easily talk to Nan.

And it reminded her that she shouldn’t tell too much. She’d shared everything with Nan, but Nan had kept many things—important things—from Isabella. Things that were causing her problems now, because she felt extremely guilty withholding the truth from Titus. Especially since Nan asked her to tell him how she felt.

But instead of sharing all of that with Savvy, Isabella simply said, “I’m worried about her, too.” She paused and then added, “And about Titus.”

Savvy placed the buttered bread in the skillet, the scent filling the tiny kitchen as the sizzle penetrated the air. “The way I see it, he lost Nan twice. The first time when she left them with no more than a note, and the next time when she died.”

Isabella had learned tidbits about Nan’s departure over the past week, mainly from little things Savvy said, but she’d had no idea her friend had left her husband with a note. “A note? She just left a note and then walked out?”

Savvy placed a square of cheese on each slice of bread and then Isabella topped them with another piece of bread. “I probably shouldn’t have said that, since I didn’t hear it from him, but it’s fairly common knowledge around town. So sad.”

And so unlike the Nan that Isabella had known, so caring and kind. So still in love with her ex-husband. Correction...husband.

The trailer door opened, and she turned to see the object of her thoughts stepping inside. Savvy also turned and quickly asked, “Titus, do you want some lunch? We’re making grilled cheese sandwiches, and I can easily make a couple more.”

“No thanks,” he said, his brow furrowed and his jaw tense, as though he were debating what to say.

“Is everything okay?” Savvy asked. “Did you need to talk to Brodie about the land? He and Dylan went to the college for the baseball team’s practice, but I might be able to get him on the phone if you have a question.”

“No, I don’t have any questions,” he said. “Everything is going fine with the clearing. I should make it to the third cabin’s site by tomorrow.”

Isabella noticed that, though he answered Savvy’s question, he never took his eyes off of Isabella. Her skin prickled under his gaze. During the handful of times he’d come to the trailer each day, Isabella fought the impulse to stare. He was such a mesmerizing man, with his long dark hair, the tan skin of a guy who worked outdoors, hazel eyes that only seemed to emphasize the depth of the pain he felt at his wife’s abandonment and then her death.

Isabella was drawn to him in spite of their limited conversations, and she found herself staring again. But this time, his attention seemed as focused on her as hers was on him.

“I do have a question, though, for Isabella,” he said, then looked toward the hallway that led to the playroom. “I’m also going to take the rest of the day off and spend some time with Savannah, if that’s okay.”

“That’s fine. You’ve been working much longer days than Brodie and I ever intended,” she said, grabbing a spatula and flipping the sandwiches.

Isabella’s pulse had skittered when he said he had a question for her. The fact that he still hadn’t asked it made her wonder if he’d learned the truth. Did he know that she’d befriended Nan? And that she hadn’t been honest with any of them about her reason for showing up in Claremont? Was he going to ask her to stay away from him? Stay away from Savannah? Because she couldn’t think of a thing that would hurt her heart more.

“You want to ask me something?” she finally managed.

“Can we talk outside?” His voice seemed even deeper, full of emotion, and her skin prickled again.

God, please, let him forgive me.

Isabella followed him outside, her shoulders dropping and feet dragging in much the same manner as Savannah’s.

* * *

Fighting his attraction to Isabella was going to prove more difficult than he thought. Even now, with the way her green eyes studied him as he led her to the small table on the deck, Titus found himself wondering what those eyes looked like when she was blissfully happy. Maybe even what they looked like when she was in love.

He swallowed past that thought. He had no business thinking anything of the sort, and he’d get a grip on it right now. He’d just lost his wife, and he needed to concentrate on helping his daughter.

She took a seat across from him at the table but had barely sat down before she asked, “Are you okay? Did I—do something wrong?”

He should’ve realized she might think that, should’ve thought about her feelings, but it’d been three long years since he’d been around a woman enough to truly remember how sensitive their feelings are. Something else God had allowed: Titus had grown numb to observations of the opposite sex that should come naturally.

“I’m sorry,” he said, at least remembering that apologizing was always a good start to rectifying acting like a typical male. “You didn’t do anything wrong. In fact, you’ve been the most right thing about the past week. Savannah looks forward to getting here each day so she can spend time with you.”

“I’m glad for that.” Her soft smile, which did reach her eyes and happened to show him how pretty she was when she smiled, lifted his spirits and gave him the push to go forward with this conversation.

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he said. “Before I learned what had happened to Nan, you mentioned teaching her to swim. She hasn’t said anything else about it, but I think that’s because I’ve been...well... I haven’t been as approachable for her over the past few days. I’m sure she can sense that I’m dealing with a lot, because she finally asked me if she’d made me sad last night, and so I had to tell her the truth.” The memory of her question, delivered quietly before bed, stabbed his heart. His brooding had caused her to feel she’d done something wrong.

“She told us that her mommy went to heaven,” Isabella said, her voice barely above a whisper, as though she knew how sensitive this topic was for Titus.

He appreciated her even more for that. “Is that all she said?” he asked, wanting to know everything going on in his little girl’s mind after learning her mommy had died.

Isabella’s hands were folded, resting on the wooden table, and she looked at them instead of Titus. “She also said that you’re sad.”

He closed his eyes and considered praying but canned that idea. Chances were, he’d end up telling God how he really felt about all of this, and there wouldn’t be anything good to come from that. “Six years old and she’s lost her mom, yet she’s worried about me.”

Isabella looked at him again, her mouth lifting a little. “That’s what girls do.”

Another reminder that he’d become clueless when it came to females. For his daughter’s sake, he’d do his best to remember. “About the swimming...”

“I still want to teach her,” she said, and she sounded almost excited about the idea, which touched an even deeper spot in Titus’s heart. She really wanted to help Savannah. “When do you want to start?”

He wouldn’t wait any longer. “How about today?”


Chapter Four (#ulink_4d084b29-b300-5cfd-ad59-67241c336a5d)

I’ve met someone...

“Can I just go see Abi and her horse again?” Savannah’s eyes, as wide with fear as a spooked stallion, locked onto Isabella’s, probably to keep from looking at the water. It was the same look she’d given her the past three days each time Isabella entered the pool...and Savannah remained firmly on the concrete.

Though Isabella had worked with children who were afraid of the water in Atlanta, she’d never encountered a child as terrified as Savannah. And she’d never seen a parent so tormented by his daughter’s fear. Titus looked to Isabella and nodded, letting her know he agreed that they didn’t need to push his little girl. “Sure,” Isabella said. “But I’ll stay here by the pool, in case you change your mind.”

Savannah shot a wary glance toward the blue water and then turned toward Titus. “I’ll swim tomorrow,” she said quietly, identical to the way she’d made the statement the past three days.

He forced a smile. “Are you sure you want to try again tomorrow? We don’t have to come back if you don’t want to.”

And, like the other times, she nodded. “Yes, please.”

“All right then.” He handed her the pink T-shirt and shorts she’d worn over her swimsuit. She put them on and slipped her feet into her shoes before heading toward the pen near the barn where Abi Cutter currently rode her pony, Brownie.

Isabella knew there was no need to remain in the water. Savannah wouldn’t try again today. She fought the impulse to feel as discouraged as Titus looked, watching his daughter literally run away from her fear. “Maybe tomorrow will be better,” she said, as she started out of the pool.

He’d been sitting beneath a purple umbrella at a circular wrought iron table near the shallow end, where Isabella had attempted to coax Savannah in. He stood, picked up Isabella’s colorful striped beach towel from the table and held it toward her as she reached the edge. For the past two days, he’d sat nearby, smiling when appropriate, offering his frightened little girl encouraging words but obviously torn apart over her fear.

“Should I keep this up, Isabella? She says she wants to swim, but should I keep bringing her here? Putting her through this? And putting you through this, too?”

She accepted the towel and wrapped it around her as she prayed for God to give her the right words. She had so much admiration for Titus Jameson, and something else, too. A longing to comfort him, to see him happy again. Even now, standing so near to him, close enough that his woodsy scent tickled her senses, she wanted to offer him more than words. She wanted to hold him, tell him that she was sorry for what Nan had done and let him know that he didn’t have to go through this alone.

“You aren’t putting me through anything,” she said. “I’m here because I want to be here, and I do think Savannah will work her way through this eventually.”

Titus cleared his throat. “I read online last night that children aren’t inherently afraid of the water. It’s their life experiences and the attitudes of those around them that generate that fear. Savannah used to play in the kiddie pool at home all the time until she was three, so I’m afraid that Nan’s leaving has something to do with this fear. But she wants to conquer it, and I want to help.”

“I want to help her, too,” Isabella said. He had no idea how much. In fact, she wanted to be the kind of person to Savannah that she’d always wanted for herself growing up. Someone she could depend on. Someone she could trust.

“I can tell that you do, and I appreciate that more than you could know.” His shoulders lifted as he inhaled, and then he pointed toward the round table. “Do you have time to stay for a few minutes and talk while she’s visiting with Abi?” He paused. “I’ve been trying to figure out what to do about everything Savannah’s going through, and I’m thinking I’d benefit from a female perspective.”

“I’d hoped to be in the pool for at least an hour,” Isabella said, “so I have plenty of time.”

“Trust me, I’d hoped you would be, too.” He moved to the table and pulled out a chair for Isabella.

She couldn’t recall Richard ever pulling out her chair; however, she did remember a time he reprimanded a waiter for neglecting to do so. “Thank you,” she said, impressed with the gentlemanly gesture that came naturally to Titus.

The umbrella covering the table shaded his face, so she couldn’t be certain, but it appeared his cheeks tinged a fraction as he said rather stiltedly, “You’re welcome.”

Isabella situated herself on the metal chair, taking a moment to tuck the top end of her towel securely at her chest and making sure as much of her skin as possible was covered. Water still dripped from her hair, but the warm afternoon air, combined with the thick terry towel, kept her from being too chilled as she waited to see what he wanted to talk about.

They sat for a moment, and Isabella tried to be patient as she eagerly anticipated Titus asking her advice. But his attention seemed to bounce between the barn, where Savannah stood near the fence rail petting Brownie, and the mountains, where the orange sun blazed vibrantly, with an occasional—and very quick—glance at Isabella in between.

Finally, unwilling to wait any longer, she cleared her throat. “You wanted to ask me something?”

This time, she was certain his cheeks turned a shade darker before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, Isabella. But it’s been three years since I’ve even had a conversation with a woman.” He shook his head, ran his hand through his hair.

Isabella watched as the dark strands fell messily around his chiseled face. He had such a strong presence, something that he didn’t appear to realize, which made him even more appealing.

“I mean, I’ve spoken to women, but nothing much beyond a hello, or about the details of whatever I was building for them.” One corner of his mouth kicked up in a half smile.

Isabella’s heart melted a little more toward this compelling man, and as she waited for his attention to land on her again, she gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand.” Then, to help him out, she said, “If it’s any consolation, I’m not used to a man wanting to hear my opinion about anything, so I may not be any more comfortable sitting here and answering your questions than you are sitting here and asking them.”

* * *

Titus was so thrown by her statement that he forgot about being uncomfortable talking privately to a woman for the first time in three years. Isabella wasn’t used to a man wanting to hear her opinion? Why not? What man had made her feel her views weren’t worthy, and why hadn’t Titus considered what might be going on in her world? He hadn’t even thought about what had happened in her past to bring her here, to Claremont. She was such an intriguing, striking woman. Why would she have moved to a place this tiny? Was she trying to get away from the guy who didn’t appreciate her?

“Who made you think your opinions didn’t matter?”

She pushed a wet auburn lock of hair behind her ear and shifted in her seat. “I thought you wanted to ask me a question.”

“I just did.” Titus wasn’t backing down now. The thought of someone treating Isabella with anything less than the respect she deserved bothered him—a lot.

She pulled her towel tighter around her petite frame in an act that, whether she realized it or not, showed that she wanted protection. Titus could identify that now. He wondered how many clues that Isabella had been hurt he’d missed over the past two weeks.

“Did he hit you?” Titus asked.

Her grip on the towel tightened, eyes widened. “Oh, no. Never.”

He believed her, and he was glad she hadn’t been physically harmed, but he also knew that some guy hadn’t treated her all that great, either. “So who was it?” Titus had been nervous about talking with Isabella, but now that the conversation was focused on her and on how someone could have done anything to hurt her, he wasn’t nervous. On the contrary, he was engaged. And ready to make some man pay.

“My husband.”

For the second time in two weeks, Titus felt sucker punched. Isabella was married? Well, of course she was. A woman as beautiful as Isabella, as kind and caring, would naturally have a husband. His attention moved to the bare ring finger on her left hand.

She followed where he stared and said, “My ex-husband, I should say. Our divorce was final six months ago. He tried for ten years to make me into what he wanted, and I let him—” she lifted slender shoulders “—but then he decided that wasn’t enough.” Her green eyes studied him as she added, “But it’s okay. I’m happy now, getting a chance to start over. He started over, too.”

“He’s a fool.”

Her soft laugh broke the tension. She straightened in her chair, gathered her hair and draped it over her right shoulder. “Thank you for that, but you’d probably like him if you met him. Most people do. He’s a fairly popular guy, especially in his social circles.”

Titus hardly heard her statement. His focus had fallen on her hands, maneuvering the long auburn waves that now curled past her shoulder. He wondered if her hair was as soft, as silky, as it appeared. Even now, still damp from her time in the pool, the red-brown ringlets caused him to wonder how they would feel in his hands, against his cheek or brushing against his lips.

And he again reminded himself that he had no business thinking about her that way, and that he didn’t want to think of any woman that way—for a long, long time.

Her cheeks, he now noticed, had started to redden, and Titus realized with sudden clarity that he’d been caught staring and that he had no idea what she’d said. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t listening.”

She laughed again, and once more, he was drawn to the lyrical sound. “It doesn’t matter. But you wanted to ask me something? About Savannah?”

Titus instinctively glanced toward the barn and saw his daughter leaning over the fence rail to timidly touch Brownie’s nose. He got a grip on his infatuation with Isabella and refocused on the reason he’d asked her to talk. “I’m having a difficult time deciding what I can do to help her. I can’t tell you how many articles and blogs I’ve read about telling her that her mom was dead, but none of them seemed right. So I kept putting it off until she finally asked me why I was so sad.” He frowned. “I botched that one.”

She leaned forward, reached a hand across the table and placed it on top of his. “Titus, I thought it was perfect that you waited. And her question gave you the opportunity not only to answer her, but to also see how Nan’s death affected you.”

For some reason, it felt odd hearing Isabella say Nan’s name, but the touch of her hand comforted him to his very soul. He looked at her petite fingers and at the contrast of her creamy skin to his tan. Pale pink polish covered each nail and reminded him of another thing he’d forgotten.

“Savannah asked me to buy her fingernail polish,” he said. “Probably three weeks ago.”

“I have plenty of polish. I’ll bring some tomorrow, and I’ll paint her nails in the morning when I fix her hair.”

“That’d be great,” he said, still captured by the feel of her skin against his. Her thoughtfulness was never ending, as was her compassion for Savannah. And he believed she truly understood what Savannah was going through now, maybe even more than Titus. So he decided to ask her about what was bothering him most.

“The guy from the hospital who called last week to tell me about Nan...” he started. “He said that he found my name and number in some things she’d left behind, and that he would be boxing those up and mailing them to me soon. Of course, he thought I was her brother because apparently she’d given the hospital the impression that she was single.” He didn’t want to spend any time analyzing that with Isabella. “But maybe there are some keepsakes in there that she’d want her daughter—our daughter—to have.”

“Are you wondering whether you should give them to Savannah now or wait until she’s older?”

Titus shook his head. “No. I’m wondering if I want to even see what she left behind. I started to tell him not to bother mailing it.”

“Because...” she prompted.

“She left us, Isabella. Walked out, leaving nothing but a note. I hate it that she got sick, that she died without us even knowing that she was in the hospital. But for some reason, she didn’t want us to know. She didn’t want to see me again, even when she knew that she was dying.” He blew out a steady stream of air, closed his eyes and then opened them. “Don’t you think that going through those things will only pour salt in the wound? And I can’t imagine it doing anything but hurting Savannah.”

Isabella gently squeezed his hand. “Maybe there were things she wanted to tell you,” she offered. “Or things she wanted to tell Savannah.”

“She had three years to tell us anything she wanted.” He shook his head. “I’ll be honest. I don’t want to go through her possessions. I’m done with the pain, done with the hurt. And I’m tired of seeing Savannah hurting because of Nan.” He glanced at her hand, still resting on top of his. “So I wanted to ask someone who could look at this objectively, in particular a female, since I’m guessing you’d know more of what I should do for Savannah. Should I open that box when it comes?”

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 (#ulink_893aa8c5-6e54-5dfc-b4ec-0f291c190c45)

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.”




Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.


Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/renee-andrews/family-wanted/) на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.