Family Wanted

“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.