“No,” Crone lied with admirable composure as he adjusted his hold on George. “I said shoot.”
“Shoot what?” George wiggled to face him, his eyes wide with concern. “Not de baby birdies! Dey just learn’d to fly. I saw dem! Dey go whoosh!” He spread his arms again, nearly tipping himself backward.
Gloria, now perched on Crone’s hip, peered at Sienna. “Who’s dat?” Her thumb crept to her mouth as she studied her with unabashed curiosity. “She’s pretty,” the little girl declared with a beaming smile.
Sienna’s heart clenched. Her unborn little girl never had the chance to smile, or to experience such uncomplicated joy.
“No, kitten.” Crone’s voice wrapped around her with a warmth he always managed without touching her. Of course he’d read her thoughts again. “Embrace the beauty and abundance of them. Don’t shut them out. Let them be part of your healing.”
She lifted tortured eyes to Crone. “I don’t know how.”
“You don’t need to do anything. Just relax and be yourself, like you are with your students. Trust me, they are like a massive dose of medication no doctor could prescribe.”
Gloria piped up with an excited look on her face. “Look, Georgie, she’s like Princess Anna.”
“Ooh,Frozen! I like Princess Anna!” George clapped his hands.
“This is Aunty Sienna,” Crone said gently. “She is very special to me, so I want you to be nice to her.”
Gloria’s face lit up. “Your hair’s all shiny. Can I touch it?”
“May I,” Crone corrected, but she was oblivious.
“Please? My hands are clean. Look!” She thrust out her palms for inspection, revealing traces of what looked suspiciously like cookie crumbs.
George squirmed down from Crone’s arms. “I’m George!” He announced, bouncing on his toes. “Dat’s Gloria. We’re twins!” He pushed out his chest. “I’m de big brother ‘cause I came first, but only by dis much!” He held up his whole hand, then frowned and tucked two fingers down. “Mommy says we’re both dis many”—he held up three fingers “—and so little bit more!” he clamped a finger around the fourth.
“He tinks he’s de boss,” Gloria informed Sienna solemnly, still examining her hair with fascination. “Mommy says we’re de same size. ’Cept when I stand on my tippy toes.” She flashed a wide grin. “Den I’m bigger!”
Sienna didn’t even try to get a word in edge wise. All she could do was soak in their abundance.
“Not true!” George demonstrated his own tippy-toe stance, wobbling precariously. “Uncle C says I’m de p’tector! Right, Uncle C?”
“You’re both little monsters,” Crone chuckled and caught Sienna’s hand in his as they followed the twins’ zigzagging path around the house.
“Nah-huh. We’re not.” Gloria spun in circles, her dress flaring out. “We’re good! ’Cept when George puts frogs in de kitchen!”
“Shh. Mommy will hear,” George protested, hopping sideways. “Froggie was hun’ry for cookies.”
The backyard opened before them with a sprawling wooden deck overlooking rolling pastures. Sienna’s mouth watered at the scent of grilling meat. The casual tableau of four adults lounging in deck chairs with drinks in hand seemed like a picture from a magazine about perfect country living.
“We found ’hem!” Gloria announced triumphantly, as if she and George had tracked them down through the wilderness. “Dey were hiding, Daddy, but we’re good finders!”
“De bestest ones,” George added as he edged toward the soccer ball near the steps. His eyes darted between it and Crone with clear intent.
“Welcome to our home,” Moira said, coming forward with a warm smile as Jagger raised a hand in his usual reserved way. When she reached Sienna, she gave her a hug, then laughed. “Sorry, this is about the best I can do these days.”
Sienna smiled, glancing down at her hostess’ protruding belly. She knew from chatter at the Ranch that Moira was expecting their third child in just a few more weeks. “Your hug was perfect, thank you again for inviting us.”
“We’re so happy you came.” Sadie said as she skipped closer and hugged her. Sienna was overwhelmed by the welcoming chorus from the two men as well, but she managed to offer a tentative smile. She relaxed as Crone’s fingers brushed her arm when he guided her to a chair. As always the subtle touch centered her.
“George,” Jagger called out, recognizing the look in his son’s eye, “no recruiting until after food.”
“But Daaaad!” George whined as he clutched the soccer ball to his chest. “Uncle C p’mised! He said he’s gonna do de kick dat goes whoosh!” He spun in demonstration, nearly toppling over. “Please? Pretty please with sprinkles?”
“Did I now?” Crone’s eyebrow rose, but Sienna caught the gleam in his eye.
“You did! Last time! Member?” George deployed his best puppy-dog expression. “You gotta be on my team ’cause Daddy runs like a sleepy bear and Uncle Derek smiles at Gloria!”
