Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
The Double L Ranch
Sienna
The house radiated warmth, filled with laughter and the rustle of ribbon as women gathered around a coffee table. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, bearing witness to Sienna fussing over Milly.
“Are you comfortable, Milly? Can I get you another pillow?” Sienna adjusted the cushion behind her friend’s back. “Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate your help, but that little poppet is due any minute. Tying bows must be torture for your back.”
“Stop fussing, Sienna.” Milly’s eyes sparkled with amusement as she stroked her swollen belly. “I’m fine, and I need the distraction. She’s been extremely active this past week. I feel like a washing machine with a soccer ball bouncing inside me.”
The room was filled with warm laughter and chatter as the women struggled with ribbons and cards as they helped prepare for the wedding—her wedding, because neither she nor Crone wanted to wait.
Jagger and Moira’s insistence on hosting the reception at The Double L Ranch filled Sienna with a profound sense of belonging.
It was the final confirmation of acceptance of her place in this family she had found.
“Fine but promise to tell me the moment you’re tired.” Sienna squeezed Milly’s hand, grateful for the friendship that had blossomed between them. Milly saw past her walls, understanding the complex layers of loss and healing that made up Sienna’s heart.
“Or hungry,” Ines chimed in, her face lighting up. “I make a mean double-cheese toasty.” Everyone smiled at her newfound confidence as a chef in the cafeteria kitchen.
The peaceful moment shattered as two small tornados burst into the room. “Aunty Si!” George and Gloria raced each other, landing simultaneously in Sienna’s lap. Thank you cards and ribbons scattered like confetti.
“What did I say about behaving?” Moira’s stern tone was undermined by the affection in her eyes as she waddled closer, pressing one hand to the low of her back.
“But we missed Aunty Si,” Gloria wailed, her small fingers already tousling Sienna’s hair in what she probably imagined was an elaborate braid. George, meanwhile, scrambled to collect the scattered cards, his face screwed up in concentration.
“Sorry, Aunty Si,” he mumbled, carefully placing them on the table before beaming at his mother. “See, Mommy? Like Dad says”—his little face scrunched up thoughtfully—“no ’arm no fall.” He tilted his head. “Why fall, Mommy? I doan get it.”
Moira rolled her eyes heavenward. “You take way too much after your father, young man. Go find him and ask him to explain. He’s with Uncle Derek in his office.”
“Kay,” George nodded sagely before turning to Sienna. “Check ya later, Aunty Si.” He took off, sliding across the polished floor.
“That’s what happens when you let your son spend too much time with Jagger,” Moira muttered, watching him slide into the hallway. She turned back to the group, rubbing her hands together. “So, what can I do?”
“You’re already doing so much, and you’re about to pop as well,” Sienna protested. “You do nothing other than to just sit and keep us entertained.”
“Ooh! Is Mommy gonna sing for us?” Gloria bounced excitedly in Sienna’s lap, nearly upending the ribbon box. “Daddy says she sings like a... a…” She looked at her mother questioningly. “What again?”
“A nightingale.”
“Yes, dat!” Gloria nodded vigorously. “But I tink she just humms.” She smiled proudly. “But pretty humms.”
“Thank you, sweetheart, for that ringing endorsement,” Moira laughed as she settled into an armchair. “Speaking of her daddy’s sayings, do you know what he told the new ranch hand yesterday? Poor boy was struggling with the fence posts, and Jagger just stands there, cool as you please, and says—”
The story was interrupted by a crash as Gloria, attempting to demonstrate proper fence post installation techniques, knocked over a stack of place cards. “Oopsie,” she giggled, diving under the table to retrieve them.
“Gloria, honey,” Sienna tried to maintain a straight face as the little girl emerged with her hair full of static and ribbons, “maybe you could be our quality control supervisor? You know, make sure all the bows are pretty enough for the wedding?”
“Like Daddy does wiff de horses?” Gloria’s eyes lit up. She straightened her tiny shoulders, adopting what she clearly thought was an authoritative pose. “I can do dat. I’m very good at... at…” She looked at her mother. “What’s dat word Daddy says?”
“Inspecting.”
“Yes! I’m very good at ’specting tings.” She picked up a bow, examining it with exaggerated seriousness. “Not enough… hmmm… more…” She waved her hand vaguely.
“Pizzazz?” Milly suggested, wincing as the baby delivered a particularly enthusiastic kick.
“Yes! Pizzzazzz!” Gloria declared, promptly attempting to add three more ribbons and a handful of glitter that seemed to materialize from nowhere.
“Where did she even get the glitter?” Moira whispered in horror as sparkles began to drift across the floor.
“Same place where every Little gets everything else—thin air,” Ines laughed, brushing glitter from her sleeve. “Remember last week when she somehow produced an entire jar of peanut butter during the house meeting?”
“Oh lord, don’t remind me,” Moira groaned. “Jagger still hasn’t figured out how she managed to get it stuck in his hat.”
The room dissolved into laughter as Gloria, oblivious to the chaos she was creating, continued her very thorough “’spection” of the wedding decorations.
Each bow she approved gained an additional layer of glitter.
Sienna wondered with fondness if her wedding was about to turn into a disco ball explosion.
Heavy boot steps from the porch drew their attention. Crone filled the doorway, his presence commanding attention even as his eyes softened at the sight of Sienna covered in glitter and ribbons.
“Kitten,” his deep voice carried that note of authority that never failed to make her heart skip, “I need you for a moment.”
“Uncle C!” Gloria abandoned her “’spection” duties, launching herself at his legs. “Look! I’m helping! Isn’t it pretty?” She proudly showed him a card, shaking it wildly, coating his jeans in pink glitter.
Crone’s laugh rumbled through the room as he scooped her up, seemingly unbothered by the shower of glitter that rained from her clothes. “I can see that, princess. You’ve certainly made things... sparkly.”
“I’m busy, Master Crone,” Sienna gestured at the chaos of ribbons and cards surrounding them. “These need to be finished by—”
“Now, kitten.” The Dom in his voice was unmistakable, and several of the Littles and submissives ducked their heads to hide their knowing smiles.
“But—”
“I believe your glitter helper can handle things,” he winked at Gloria as he set her down. “Can’t you, princess?”
“Yes!” Gloria’s enthusiasm sent another cloud of glitter into the air. “I’m very good at ’specting!”
“I really should stay and—” Sienna started to protest, but in one fluid motion, Crone crossed the room and hoisted her over his shoulder.
“The bride,” he announced to the giggling women, “is temporarily unavailable.”
Just then, George skidded back into the room, taking in the scene with wide eyes. “Daddy!” he called over his shoulder. “Uncle C’s stealing Aunty Si!”
“Good man.” Jagger’s voice echoed back. “About time too. She’s been fussing over those ribbons for hours.”
“But I haven’t finished—” Sienna’s protest was cut short by a sharp swat to her bottom. “Ouch!”
“Less talking, more cooperating, kitten,” Crone rumbled, carrying her toward the door.
“Doan worry, Aunty Si!” Gloria called after them, wielding a ribbon like a wand. “I got more sparkles.”
“Oh Lord,” Moira’s groan followed them out the door. “Someone please hide the rest of the glitter.”
Crone
Main Street, Rawhide Ridge
Crone parked his truck in front of Angel’s Heavenly Bakery and Chocolate Shoppe. His heart was hammering with an unfamiliar nervousness. He’d faced down wild horses with more confidence than he felt right now.
“Really, Crone?” Sienna’s tone was fondly exasperated. “Another chocolate tasting? Haven’t you paid your dues by now for Angel’s help finding a jeweler for my ring?”
He flashed that dangerous bad-boy smile, her usual weakness, but she just dramatically rolled her eyes, drawing a laugh from him.
“I’m not falling for that one.” She glanced at her watch.
“It’s already almost midday and I still have so much to do.
Our wedding is in two days, and I don’t have time to watch you drool over another chocolate brownie…
” She pointed an accusing finger at him.
“Which, by the way, you have probably tasted fifty times by now.”
“What can I say? Heaven Leigh makes the best brownies.” He got out and walked around to open her door. Once again, his stomach flipped nervously. “But that’s not why we’re here.”
“Crone, really. Is this necessary? Can’t it wait until—”
“No, it can’t. Well, perhaps it could, but I can’t.” The words tumbled out, betraying his excitement and anxiety. “This is too important and it’s been hard keeping it a secret.”
“Keep what a secret?” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Out with it, Crone Lange. What did you do this time?” Despite her protests, she took his hand and got out of the truck.
Crone’s heart thundered in his chest. His confidence was at an all-time low. What if he’d read her wrong this time? What if this was too much, too soon?
“This, love... this is my wedding gift to you.”
Sienna turned to look where he was pointing.
The lot next to Angel’s had stood empty for years, until a couple of weeks ago.
Now, a building commanded the space in a masterful blend of modern glass and steel softened by natural stone and rustic wooden beams. Large, frosted windows promised privacy while hinting at the light-filled spaces within.
Her eyes lifted to the sign above the intricately carved door, each letter was crafted in elegant copper script.