Page 24 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)

Joe checked the angle of the sun. It was too early to put out the banners that would declare the orchard shop and gift store open.

No vehicles waited beyond the gates. Kind of a relief, given the recent publicity, but Argent had never mentioned Red Gate Farm.

If there were any reporters looking for more news, they were probably hanging out in Bellwether, sipping coffee at Founders.

A lone person stood in the road, well back from the boundary and the barriers that secured it.

There was nothing remarkable about his height or build. He had brown skin and thick black hair that stood out in every direction. Joe couldn’t tell if that was just how his hair was … or if he was wind-blown from flight.

Nothing about him was familiar. Or particularly avian.

But once they were closer, Joe realized that there were hints.

The guy was probably wearing formal clothing in his clan’s colors.

Black accented with sky blue, which had been stitched into the cloth in a pattern of feathers.

It wasn’t a combination Joe could remember seeing before, but he only knew the dress clothes of local clans.

Or those that had appeared on Crossing America .

Their visitor stood as if frozen, blue eyes wide. Then he lifted a shaky hand to cover his trembling lips and doubled over, going down on his knees in the snow-packed road.

Joe hurried forward and knelt with him. “Hey … sir? Are you all right?”

Kip was there, too, kneeling on the guy’s other side. “Peace, Kindred. How can we help?”

The stranger covered his face and bowed even further, pressing his forehead to the ground. Joe was catching impressions. The posture seemed to be one of distress or … apology? Maybe grief. “Let’s get him inside?” Joe suggested.

Kip rested a hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Hey, that okay with you, friend?”

“Maybe he doesn’t speak English?”

“Might be.” Kip tried a few phrases in other languages, coaxing for a response.

“He understood you.” Kurloo knelt behind the guy, murmuring, “Allow me.” And then he was cradling the overwhelmed stranger as he walked slowly toward the house.

“I’ll give everyone a heads up,” said Ash, who used his wings to hurry his steps.

“Ohhh,” said a voice right beside Joe. “Oh, I see. This is very interesting.”

Joe hadn’t realized that Kyrie was with them. Usually, Joe noticed Anan first, but the storm was waiting a short distance away, his usual glower toned all the way down to a thoughtful frown.

Kyrie’s gaze was fixed on the retreating figure of Kurloo, whose tail swayed in tight, worried arcs. He said, “I think you should hurry. Ash will need you.”

“Us? Why?”

“You are his best friend and his brother, are you not?” With a small sigh, Kyrie quietly urged, “Hurry.”

Joe scrambled to his feet, because it was suddenly, urgently important that they get to Ash as quickly as possible. But he was no match for Kip. His bondmate was gone in a rush. All Joe could do was give chase.

Which made him smile a little because … that’s how they always described it back when Kimiko Miyabe—now Starmark—was courting her bondmate. When a suitor was trying to win someone’s heart, they gave chase. And Joe was in pursuit.