Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Thirty-Three

On Tuesday morning, after he was finished with the final preparations of Anna's present, Titus carried the heavy box into the house and set it down underneath the tree where a wrapped gift was placed. There was a card that read Titus and a giant golden bow on top of a plain, paper wrapped box.

His hands itched to open it and see what her creative mind had conjured up as the perfect gifts to get him, but he checked himself and went back outside to where the sun was beginning to set and Munston's ranch hand Gerald Filmeist was waiting for him.

On a purebred horse that must have cost an arm and a leg, Gerald sat, staring Titus straight in the eye and not looking away until Titus was right next to the slightly shorter man. The brown haired man had been a year above him in high school and had been one of the toughest quarterbacks he had ever had the privilege to play with.

He was always working, even on this fine Christmas Eve and some of the Thanksgivings when Titus asked him to. The man always did, never complaining and only talking when he absolutely had to, always nodding his head or riding off to finish off the chore list.

“Luther already went down to feed the stock dogs. Should be back soon,” Gerald said.

“Good.” Titus nodded as he pulled out the college-ruled paper from his jeans pocket and handed it up to Gerald.

His brown eyes skimmed over the paper before he shoved it into his own jeans pocket, nodded Titus's way, and then did the longest, most challenging thing on the list which was checking and fixing all fences. Heading to the milking parlour, Titus got all the cows through, finishing up with the second most time consuming thing on the list.

It was already nine o'clock by the time he was done, giving him roughly five hours until both his parents, Thrane, and a part of Anna's family came over to spend the night and celebrate Christmas together. Like always, none of his other brothers had called to RSVP whether or not they were actually coming down or staying up for the holidays.

It had been years since they had all spent Christmas together. Taivon and Trace had come down last year, but what with the air fare being so expensive, it was hard to officially book a date and follow through – especially when there were usually blizzards and winter storms that could delay planes for days.

After checking his phone one more time for any missed calls or texts, Titus went back to work. Throughout the day, he fed the horses, mucked the stalls, hauled manure, and cut hay bales until his body began to hurt like it always did and the work was done.

Titus payed Gerald on his way out and sent Luther home before heading back to the house. He ignored the white paint and how it was chipping more severely now than ever. The porch wasn't in much better shape. There were a few holes in the wood that creaked more than a hungry couple's bed, but that was just how he liked it. Old and familiar.

The wooden loveseat rocker was pressed up against the white paint of the house, lonely as ever from nobody having sat in it for quite some time now. But it would be sat on, he promised to himself, already envisioning the scene. Anna would be on that padded seat with him, holding his hand and leaning her head against his shoulder while they watched their children play outside.

There'd be little boys and girls who looked like a mix of him and Anna and one child who would be older than the rest and look different. That child wouldn't have any of his physical traits but would still be his – not Hunter's.

They were done with Hunter in their lives, never speaking about the man even when the Napolm locals gossiped about what had really happened between the awful man and Anna. The talk of Hunter's and Jasmine's wedding had only fueled the curious fire. Every time that somebody had asked him about what had happened, he just told them the partial truth. That Hunter had cheated on Anna, and because he had been there, she had finally seen how much she had loved him.