Titus: Book Two of the Cantrell Brothers Series

Chapter Fifty-Three

“Ms. Hayes, Mr. Hunner, and Mr. Abbott are our attorneys. Which one would you-”

“Any one go by the flat fee?”

“That would have to be discussed with them. It all depends on exactly what case you're looking for.”

“Oh, ok-”

“But Charles Abbott specializes in the shorter cases, where paternity rights should be established, so he usually is just one flat fee. Ruthie Hayes, on the other hand, usually takes on the longer lasting ones, if that makes any sense. She specializes in domestic abuse and misconduct of legal guardians. Austin Hunner wouldn't be of much help. He deals mostly with divorce and marriage disputes.”

His grip on the phone tightened, gears turning wildly in his head. “Charles Abbott? Is he uhm...busy?”

“He's with one of his clients, at the moment. Would you like to schedule a free consultation appointment?”

After telling her his name and that any available date would work for him, he hung up the phone and breathed a sigh of relief. His consultation appointment was on July eleventh, only three, short days away. All the way up in Carson, the trip to Hayes and Associates would be about a four hour drive, but it didn't matter. Far away or not, this was the attorney. Titus could feel it.

Rolling his shoulders to get all the knotted kinks out, Titus got up from the table. The ripped and printed pages were placed in the manila envelope, the books placed into a lightweight cardboard box. With the box and envelop in hand, he went downstairs, coughing a little bit at the scent of detergents, dust, and frozen food.

In the room where they kept the old fire stove, he got a few pieces of the resin wood and lit a match. The phone books' recycled paper acted as good kindling, igniting well as soon as they hit the flame. One by one, he put them all in, stopping once the box was empty. A few feet from the stove was the safe, where he placed the manila envelope in the shelf where he kept the ranch finances and medical records.

Still coughing from the some of the smoke that escaped, he waved it away and waited until it finished burning. It took awhile, but the last of the flames eventually died down, allowing him to leave. The upstairs smelt of the fire, but he didn't need to worry. They burned their unwanted papers most of the time, anyway.

“Salt.” Titus shook the bag of cat food for the cats. “Pepper.”

Like always, they scampered into the room with their full-grown limbs. They were no longer the awkward, gangly little kittens that Anna had first brought to him. Now, they were the fully matured cats who, more times than not, acted as if they were the sole guardians of Ella.

Whenever Ella was on the floor, they surrounded her. If Ella began to cry, Pepper went to the foot of the baby's crib while Salt danced all over his and Anna's faces. He was so proud of their two cats and couldn't wait for Ella to be old enough so that she could appreciate them, as well.

Crouching down, Titus rubbed those spots behind their ears, feeling as if the whole world was coming together again. The case with his baby would now be settled. He didn't have to search anymore. And Anna, he hoped, would be home soon.

He loved it whenever she came through that front door. Her hair would be blowing from the summer wind, and a wide smile would be on her face as she walked in with Ella in her arms. He'd pull her into his arms and with Ella in between them, they'd share a leisure kiss that went from slow and relaxed to fast and worked up.

Titus would never tire of their routine.

Humming an upbeat tune to himself, he donned his hat and boots and then went outside for the rest of his chores. Luther waved to him, and he waved back, feeling on top of the world. And he stayed that way. When Trigger kicked him square in the knee after he accidentally hit the wrong part of her leg, Titus couldn't be happier. As sweat, dirt, and all sorts of smelly substances stained his clothes and caked his arms, he just smiled and hummed his song.