Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Forty-Nine

At exactly 1:27 AM, Ella woke up. She screamed and cried from the foot of their bed. Bleary eyed, Anna got to their daughter as quickly as possible. She sent a few quick glances back to Titus's large form that was sprawled out on the bed, praying that she could calm Ella down before he woke up.

Scooping up the crying little girl in her arms, Anna cradled Ella's head. She rested the newborn's small chin on her shoulder and walked out of the room, into the nursery. The sight of this room – this beautiful nursery that must've taken hours, days even, to complete – still brought overly emotional tears to her weary eyes.

The walls were painted a gradient blue that transitioned form dark to light. In the uppermost area, where the light blue was, were the birds. Painted a stark, vibrant red, they contrasted sharply with the walls, their wings outstretched and tipped in black. Almost everything was all here – the changing table, baby swing with those little dangling things, and everything that they had received approximately three weeks ago, when they had brought Ella home.

The only thing missing from the nursery was Ella's crib. It was still in her and Titus's bedroom, not because of their worry for the paint fumes that had died down over two weeks ago, but rather due to all of the horror stories about Sudden Infant Death Syndrome they had heard about. Anna had been told it was like this for all first time parents. She highly doubted it. The worry and fear that kept her awake at night was just something else.

She looked down at their daughter. Eyes shut tight and limbs kicking, Ella was certainly something else. She made the most adorable faces when she tried to lift her head up during tummy time, her drool would cover almost all of Anna's clothes by the end of the day, and she spit up her formula almost every other feeding.

And now her baby girl was crying. The pacifier popped out, but Anna just left it there. The walls were pretty thick, and Titus had become a very deep sleeper these past couple of weeks, assuring her that he wouldn't rouse from it.

She rubbed at the tired bags from her eyes and checked to see if Ella's diaper was full or wet. It wasn't. All Anna saw was the normal, yellow stuff that had been inside her belly button ever since the umbilical cord had fallen off. Sighing quietly to herself but knowing that this was just the girl's routine, she placed the pacifier into Ella's mouth before picking up her small body.

The kitchen lights were still on from the last time Ella had woken her up, demanding to be fed. That had been exactly three hours and twenty minutes ago. Anna didn't mind. If Ella was hungry, then Ella was hungry. There was nothing that could be done for it, besides sating their baby's frequent hunger.

Measuring out the proper amount of formula and cups of water, Anna combined the powder and liquid in the baby bottle. She slung the burp cloth over her shoulder and whispered sweet little coos to Ella, shaking up the bottle to make sure it was all the right consistency.

“Yeah,” she murmured once the bottle was being suckled being pouting lips. “Finish up your milk, and then we'll walk around some, okay?”

She sat down, cradling their newborn in the crook of her elbow. Ella's lips sucked rapidly at the bottle, hands grabbing onto the plastic and feet squirming around. Anna cupped one of those feet within her palm, loving just how tiny it felt encased within a baby sock. The material felt smooth against her hand, and just she was about to run just her fingertip over the instep when the spitting up session began.

Coughing, Ella revoked the bottle, pushing it away with tiny hands that were so weak yet had so much power over Anna that she felt tears form in her eyes. She blinked the droplets of water away and cradled Ella to the top of her shoulder, gently patting her baby's back. Soft hacking could be heard, and then it was over.