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.