Page 4 of Reaching Little Robyn

“What look?”

“The one on your face,” Moira said. “The one that has me wondering if that’s a grin or a sneer.”

“I’d never sneer at the mother of my children.” Jagger pulled her even closer and bent down to speak softly. “However, as my Little, let’s just say you might change your mind about that number after I remind you what happens to Little girls who put themselves smack-dab in the middle of danger.”

His wife’s eyes widened but she didn’t look all that worried. Maybe Jayne had been closer to the truth than he’d thought. Had his so-called Dommie skills slipped enough that his Little didn’t even bat an eye at the innuendo he’d just delivered? He’d have to up his game and make sure she remembered that though her help had been appreciated, Little girls who ran toward danger needed their butts to burn.

Moira lifted onto her tiptoes to speak close to his ear. “I think it’s safe to say that if you’re going to be spanking me, thirteen just might become my new favorite number. After all, it’s been a while since we’ve had the house to ourselves.” She smiled and then tugged his hand. “Come meet Winston.”

“Winston?”

“Our new neighbor, well, kind of,” Moira offered, nodding toward the man who stood with one boot on the bottom rail of the corral as he looked over the horses.

Jagger really wanted to remind her thatto ourselvesmeant there would be only two involved but knew there would be no way to concentrate completely on Moira until the issue of the horses was settled.

“Fine, baby bear, but once everyone is gone, consider yourself mine… all mine.”

“Can’t wait, Daddy, Sir,” she said, batting her eyes and pecking his cheek.

CHAPTER 3

Winston

Winston might have come to Montana with a need to get away from people, but he knew the invitation to join the others wasn’t one he could ignore. Especially not when today’s fiasco could be placed directly at his feet. He had yet to officially meet the men and women who’d saved the horses he was currently looking over, but he knew every single person around him hadn’t come from any weekender dude ranch. Not only were they obviously comfortable sitting on their horses, they were experienced riders who had successfully brought a herd of stampeding horses to a stop.

He followed Moira, the only one who’d introduced herself, into the house. He removed his hat, hanging it beside the other men’s on one of the pegs jutting out of a board on the wall just inside the door. The living room held a brown leather couch, a pair of mission-style chairs with wide, wooden arms and a comfortable-looking overstuffed chair in the corner by a window. Beside it was a low bookcase that held a few booksbut mostly served as a storage unit for baskets filled with toys, though he’d yet to see any children.

“Everyone sit down,” Moira directed. “I’ll make coffee or would you rather have something else?”

Realizing her question was directed at him, Winston said, “Please don’t bother…”

“It’s no bother,” Moira assured him. “We’re all thirsty.”

“I’ll help.”

“That means she’ll be looking for cookies,” a red-headed woman said with an air that let Winston know the women were all either sisters or very good friends. As he tried to decide, he felt a hand clap against his shoulder.

“Don’t even try to get away without something to eat and drink. My wife’s feelings would be hurt. Name’s Jagger, by the way.”

“I wouldn’t want that. Winston.” Winston offered his hand. The man’s grip was firm and his palm not one of a man who sat at a desk all day twiddling his thumbs. None of the men’s hands he shook were as they all introduced themselves. Before Winston knew it, he was sitting in a chair around a large dining table, a cup of black coffee in front of him along with a pair of cookies on a saucer. Lifting one, he grinned at the image on the plate. He remembered it from his childhood.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect company,” Moira said as she continued to place cups and saucers down in front of the others.

“No need to apologize. The count helped me learn my numbers.”

“You and everyone who ever visitedSesame Street,” the man he’d learned was Derek said.

Winston chuckled. “True.” He waited until Moira had taken her seat before asking, “How many children do you have Mrs. Jagger?”

“Two. A boy and a girl. They’re twins.” Moira’s smile lit up her face. “And it’s not Jagger, it’s Jaeger, though they do sound rather alike don’t they?”

Evidently, his confusion showed on his face because she laughed. “I mean my husband’s name is Jason Jaeger, but we all just call him Jagger, and please, I’m just plain old Moira, Mr. Winston.”

“It’s Wane, I mean, my name is Winston Wane, and you’re anything but plain,” Winston stated, instantly noting the stiffening of his host. “You all are. I’ve never seen a group of people work so perfectly in sync without a great deal of trying to outshine one another. It was truly amazing watching you work to keep the horses safe.”

“Speaking of horses, are they yours?” Travis asked.

“No. I mean, I’ve seen them a few times on my land, but today was the first time I’ve recognized them as the wild animals they are. The stampede is my fault, really.”

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