Page 39 of Alder Woodacre and the Acorns of Affection (Amaranthine Interludes #3)

It started innocently enough.

When Kip was ready to leave for work on a fine May morning, he backtracked to where Joe stood at the counter, filling his thermos. Without preamble, Kip bent to nuzzle Joe’s hair, then brushed a kiss above his eyebrow.

An unexpected gesture.

Something new and nice.

Then Kip stood tall and left with a spring in his step. And when Joe turned back to his thermos, he found the upturned thermos cup full of acorns.

Jarrah was at his side in a moment, studying the overflow of affection with obvious admiration. And with a triple swish of his puffed tail, he suggested, “Let’s get him back.”

“How do you mean …?”

“We’ll give him acorns, too!”

“Sure. That sounds fun.”

Joe and Jarrah went to collect acorns in the oak glen, but when the boy explained what he was after to Bush, the Kith rounded on Joe, chattering.

“Umm … what?”

Bush resorted to a wolvish handsign, one that meant follow .

Then with a furtive glance, he bounced off between the trees.

Joe swung into a long stride in order to keep him in view.

Bush led them all the way out into the back forty, where a fallow field was attracting the attention of Ephemera …

and pretty much nobody else. Along one edge, a row of five-gallon pails had been tucked up against the fence.

Each was topped by a scrap of plywood and a rock.

“Can I look?” checked Jarrah, whose tail twitched excitedly.

Bush chirred magnanimously.

“Oh, this is good! Really, really good!” Jarrah beamed up at Joe. “Acorns!”

Belatedly, Joe remembered. “I asked you to help me find some, didn’t I?”

The Kith clambered up his overalls in order to nuzzle his cheeks.

“This is a good start! Right, Mister Joe?”

A start, huh. Joe eyed the long line of pails. He had no idea what they’d do with so many acorns, but one thing was sure. “We won’t have to skimp.”

They started simple, leaving acorns in places that Kip would find them. His pockets. His work boots. One night, they filled his pillowcase.

And each time, Kip retaliated in kind, so that signs of his affection started turning up all around. Joe’s favorite coffee cup. The tractor seat. The nesting boxes in the chicken coop.

One morning, when Jarrah opened the screen door, it triggered a tiny acorn avalanche as they pattered down from the porch roof.

At that point, Joe applied to Tami for help.

Her ideas were good. More importantly, they were kid-friendly.

Jarrah painted a whole pile of acorns green and copper, and they carefully placed them on Joe’s bedroom floor so that they created a heart.

Kip’s answer was to string them together on wire, turning them into a heart-shaped wreath, which now hung on the back of the bedroom door.

They all got in trouble when Kip filled the bathtub with acorns. After that, Mom made a rule—not in the house.

Which led to a grand scheme that required the help of four wolf clansmen and all of Bush’s acorn stash. They moved Coach into the Song Circle, then they filled it to overflowing with acorns.

When Kip finally found his missing vehicle, he doubled over and laughed until he cried. Waving Jarrah over, he declared, “I give up. Hands down, best prank ever. You win this round.”

Then he shifted into truest form and scooped up both Jarrah and Joe, chirring over them and tickling them with his whiskers.

It was surprisingly comfortable, being in an enormous squirrel’s clutches.

Having cuddled Kip so many times before, Joe decided that turnabout was probably fair play. Or maybe it was just … family.

Somehow, after all the excitement of the prank war ended, Joe looked up, and they’d entered the last half of May. Summer vacation was closing in, which meant they were all counting down to Harrison’s last day of school … and his subsequent departure with his Stately House escorts.

And Joe wasn’t ready.