Page 28 of Reaching Little Robyn

It took a few shakes of his head, but Becky soon had the correct stuffie in her hands. When he started to reach for his wallet, she shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. Just give me your name.”

Winston did and accepted the bag she tucked his purchases in.

“Come back sometime,” Becky said.

“You can bet on it,” Winston said with a grin.

Robyn had to be really out because she didn’t even stir when he adjusted her to open the truck door. Instead of setting her in the passenger seat, he slid her to the center from the driver’s side before climbing behind the wheel and then buckling her belt. Her head instantly went to his shoulder. He felt as if he could drive around for the rest of his life and be happy just having her at his side.

Getting her out of the truck was a little more difficult, but he managed. At the front door, he didn’t have to jostle her again as the door opened and an elderly lady stared up at him.

“Oh goodness, what happened?”

“She twisted her ankle and evidently the excitement of the day was a bit much.”

“Or else she was too excited about the day to sleep much last night. Oh, my name is Ethel by the way. I’m a guest here.”

“I’m Rooster, and also a guest here.”

“Now that we’re properly introduced, tell me how I can help.”

“Have any clue where her room might be?”

Ethel smiled. “I do. She was sweet enough to offer tours this morning. Just follow me.”

That was exactly what Rooster did, following Ethel as she led the way up the stairs. It turned out Robyn’s quarters were on the third level which he guessed had originally been an attic. Derek had explained the difference between those staying at the Ranch and those staying at the B&B so he made sure not to do anything that might cause Ethel to have a stroke. As much as he’d love to pull Robyn’s dress off, he knew he didn’t have the right, even if he replaced it with a nightgown. Instead, when Ethel pulled back the quilt and sheets, he simply tucked Robyn beneath them, glad her shoes had already been removed. He took one of the throwpillows and propped her injured ankle on it before nodding to let Ethel know she could pull the covers up.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Ethel said, which surprised him a bit. When he looked over, she smiled and patted his shoulder. “I may be old, young man, but I can tell you care for her and won’t do anything she or you will regret. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Yes, ma’am, and thanks for the help.”

“You’re welcome. Have a good evening.”

Once Ethel left the room, the only items of clothing Winston removed were Robyn’s apron and the cute vintage detachable collar. He knew she wouldn’t want it crushed in her sleep. The only thing he added was the stuffie he pulled from the bag. Slipping it in beside her, he smiled and bent to kiss her forehead. “Sleep well, little bird.”

Her little purr was precious, but what squeezed his heart was when her arm draped around the stuffie and she pulled it to her chest as she turned onto her side.

In the kitchen, Winston found the macaroni and cheese, spooning a portion into a bowl and putting it in the microwave. While it heated, he picked through the finger sandwiches which were delicious but it took a dozen to make him feel as if he’d even had a single sandwich. He ate the pasta and had to admit, Connor knew what he was doing. After making sure he’d washed the dishes he’d used and put away the remaining food, he snagged what looked like an orange and cranberry scone and reheated a cup of coffee he’d found in the bottom of a thermos on the counter. He was about to take his dessert outside when he wondered if he’d be able to hear Robyn if she called out. The third floor was a bit far unless she screamed which he knew she’d never do.

“She’s gotta have something around here,” he said, leaving his dish on the counter and scanning the kitchen. Finding nothing, he moved into the living room, then the dining roomwhere several small table and chair sets had been placed and then thought of the small reception desk.

“Bingo!” He grinned at finding an old-fashioned bell, the kind someone could twist the knob and then release it to let the ring sound. Grabbing a piece of paper with the B&B’s logo at the top, he wrote a note. Carrying it and the bell, he took the stairs two at a time and once in Robyn’s room, put both on the nightstand beside the bed. It was also where he’d set her phone when he’d found it in the pocket of her dress.

He spent a few minutes just watching her breathe and then figured she might think that creepy if she happened to wake up and catch him. He did, however, kiss her cheek before leaving.

Outside, with the swing rocking, he drank his coffee and ate his scone as he looked out over the land. The openness of this country, the beauty found in nature’s hills and mountains, in the trees towering above him, far outshone the skyscrapers he’d left. Here he could see not one star, but millions. The lights of the city didn’t compete with the moon. Instead, here, the moon bathed the land in a soft light that calmed one’s blood. The aroma wasn’t of humanity but of nature. When he saw the silhouette of a bird against the sky, he smiled and lifted his coffee cup. If that wasn’t a sign that he needed Robyn to welcome him into her flock, he didn’t know what was.

He spent another hour just swinging before fatigue began to draw him under. Returning to the quiet house, he locked the doors and then realized he had no clue what room he’d been assigned. Chuckling, he looked in the drawer and found the registration book. He found his name beside a room marked, not with a number, but with a picture of a bird. Beneath it was the word Nighthawk.

“You can fight it all you want, little bird, but the love of all feathered beings with the power to fly is obviously in your blood.”

Running his finger down the list, he saw Ethel was in the Calliope Hummingbird room, and two couples he hadn’t met had the Great Horned Owl and the Northern Cardinal rooms. Without any numbers, he wondered how he was supposed to find his room but when he started to close the book, he noticed there was a diagram on.one of the front pages. Studying the layout of the house, he discovered Ethel had a first-floor room. That was nice and it only went to prove how much she already liked her hostess when she’d climbed not one but two flights of stairs to make sure Robyn got to bed safely. The other guest room on the ground floor, which had a picture of Meadowlark on it, was empty. Robyn’s other guests’ rooms were on the second floor but he didn’t see his room. Starting at the top of the diagram, he took it slower and when his finger settled on a picture with the word Nighthawk beneath it, he grinned.

“Couldn’t have asked for anything better,” he said when the diagram showed the room to be on the third floor. It was at the opposite end of the attic from Robyn’s, and was most likely smaller than the others, but he didn’t care. He’d be right down the hall if she needed him. “I owe you a bottle of your favorite whiskey, Mr. Hawkins.” He closed the book and tucked it back into the drawer.

Retrieving his duffel from where he’d dropped it earlier, he climbed the stairs yet again. It was all he could do not to whistle, but he didn’t want to wake anyone in the house. Instead, he actually paused on the second floor landing and removed his boots, tucking them under his arm before going further. He resisted the urge to check in on Robyn again and instead found his room. It was indeed small, but large enough for a double bed, a washstand that served as his night table and a small dresser. A row of hooks would have to serve as his closet. Winston didn’t give a damn. He’d have slept on a pallet on the floor using hisboots as a pillow if it meant sleeping anywhere near his little bird.

CHAPTER 12

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