Page 125 of Tamiko and the Two Janitors
“Between us,” he coaxed. “I want to know where you draw theline.”
Which was only fair. But so hard to admit.
“Imeant,” Joe began, every word more awkward thanthe next. “That I’d let you kiss me.”
Kip went very still and remained quiet for several moments. “Youtrust me that much?”
“Yeah,” he croaked.
“Whoa.”
And this time, it wasn’t the ‘make it stop’ kind ofwhoa.Joe could tell it was the sort that meant ‘wow, am I impressed.’
FORTY-ONE
Herald
Melissa doggedly collected another armful of posts fromthe timber that had appeared—as if by magic—in the field from which all thepumpkins had been harvested. Doon-wen was already keeping his promise to theReaverson family with a steady stream of arrivals.
Daily couriers.
Nightly deliveries.
Fresh allotments.
Scribes to witness the necessary contracts, forms, registries,and chronicles. Preservationists, who pottered with soil samples and frettedabout security. Ephemeralists, who set about cataloguing the bounty of rarespecies that thrived in the orchard. Draftsmen and craftsmen, whose initialdrawings left little doubt that the Reaverson family would soon play host to aquaint village.
With an eye toward self-sufficiency, the Woodacres hadproposed the addition of a small dairy and the partial damming of a creek inorder to create a fishing hole. Cyril wanted a dovecote, a rookery, and ahatchery in order to increase the population of several varieties of birds inPerch County—including pheasants. Kith shelters were already under constructionat the far corners of the property.
Uncle George was in his glory.
Today being a Sunday, the orchard was closed until noon. Sodawn at Red Gate Farm found the property overrun. Melissa suspected that theurban enclave was standing empty. Everyone had come to work or to wander.
More shipments arrived by the hour. Thatching and tickingand tents. Cordwood and kegs and case-lot quantities of candles. Several cratesof wardstones arrived, many of which would be set into the very fencepostsMelissa was toting.
She snapped a picture of the shipping label and sent it toJiminy.
He spammed the sob emoji. His double-shift wouldn’t enduntil six.
Officially, Melissa was present as Rook’s escort, but she’dinsisted on pitching in, as was her right as kin. She knew full well that theAmaranthine builders were humoring her. Rabbits who were shorter and slighter weremany times stronger. And bears were grappling beams and shifting flagstoneswith apologetic ease.
Rook kindly suggested, “Torloo and Sooli seem to have foundAsh. Make sure they haven’t become a bother?”
Melissa found them in the oak glen, where Ash had marked offa small plot between two of the oaks lining the song circle. Not in anyofficial way. He’d simply cleared the patch of leaves and lined the edges withacorns. Would Tami’s suitor build her a home here, within view of Biddie’s tree?
Torloo-dex Elderbough and Sooli-fen Nightspangle were indeedmonopolizing Ash. He perched on some sort of barrel, the young wolves sittingattentively at his feet. Far from being a bother, the kids were both rapt andrespectful, for Ash was telling them a story.
“… and so the wind was granted a magic all its own, for it hadalways been meant for more than scattering seeds and carrying clouds. But youngwinds can be fitful and flighty and forgetful, which made them difficult totrain.”
Melissa joined the youngsters on the grass. From there, shecould see that Ash’s seat was a cask, marked with the crest of the Merryvaleclan, whose honey wine was world famous. No doubt the circle would be filledwith song tonight.
Ash went on with the story, spinning it out in the manner ofbards. “The avian clans knew the winds best, having learned to loft themselvesalong their many paths, but as so often happens in this world and the next,knowing is not understanding. And as every youngling is wise to remember, not everywing has feathers.”
Torloo clasped his hands over his heart, looking very muchlike the child he still was, no matter his actual years. Sooli must have beenclose in age, although Melissa was only guessing. Amaranthine aged at the samerate as humans until they reached their twelfth year. On the cusp of a lengthyadolescence, their time slowed to match the pace of their parents.
Rook had offered to bring her along today as a treat, perhapsbecause she was the youngest cub of the Nightspangle pack. But also becauseSooli wasn’t just any young she-wolf. She was Roonta-kiv’s daughter.
Sooli-fen was Jiminy’s sister.
