Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

16. Adrian

SIXTEEN

ADRIAN

THE TODDLER

Day 395

I leave Sunshine’s charming little cottage with a pep in my step, floating on the warmth of the morning. Spending time with her was the perfect start to my stay in the community, and I'm so glad I ignored Kenji’s silent protests earlier when I decided to prepare a breakfast tray for Farron. With Nora’s help, we assembled a little spread. She cheered me on, sending me off to Farron’s with a wink and a playful swat to my backside with her kitchen towel.

Honestly, the distraction was good. I’ve been holding off on truly letting myself accept the reality that my family isn’t here and that this is the last place we will look. That I would never see them again. I know we could keep looking, but when is it time to accept fate and start settling down in this new world? My job is to be the funny and lighthearted one–I can’t do that if I let myself drown in the pain of not finding my mom and sisters again. Probably ever.

My thoughts drift back to Farron this morning when she opened the door looking like a sleepy kitten, all rumpled and adorably grumpy. I couldn’t keep my eyes off of her long legs, thick and strong, in those little sleep shorts paired with those red cowboy boots. By the end of the visit, I couldn’t stop imagining Farron wearing only the cowboy boots for me, and that was when I knew it was time to go. I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable by unintentionally staring for too long, or make her mad that I was intruding on her space.

So, alas, I had to go. But the memory of her this morning will be ingrained in my brain forever. Also ingrained in my brain forever is the shock of a lifetime that I experienced early this morning when I opened the first door on the left of the second story, assuming it was a restroom.

It was not. It was, I’m guessing, Farron’s childhood bedroom, and it looked like the Twilight series threw up in there. Twilight posters were strewn all over the walls, featuring brooding shots of Edward, Bella, and Jacob. Merchandise was everywhere—pillows, bed sheets, and even a sparkly Edward Cullen figurine perched on the dresser. But the pièce de résistance was a life-sized cutout of Charlie Swan awkwardly standing in the corner, his stoic face gazing over the room like a silent guardian.

I was both shocked and ecstatic at my discovery. The room was like a time capsule from the height of Twilight mania, a teenage shrine to the series that had clearly been untouched for years. My mind raced with the possibilities of how to use this newfound knowledge.

Grinning from ear to ear, I quickly shut the door and hurried downstairs to find the bathroom, barely containing my laughter. I knew this little secret would bring endless teasing potential. The thought of Kenji’s reaction to one day seeing that room made me chuckle out loud. It became even better when I noticed her sweatshirt this morning. More Twilight .

I chuckle as my mind wanders and continue my walk back to the Hill house, a smile on my face, enjoying the feeling of the sun on my skin. When I return to the kitchen, Nora’s there already waiting for me.

“Oh, Miss Peaches,” I respond dramatically, placing a hand over my heart, “your peach pie might have won my affection, but I’m afraid your granddaughter is stealing it away.”

“Good,” she says with a decisive nod. “That’s exactly what I wanted to hear. Now, I was going to have you help me cook in the kitchen today, but I need to assist Henry with something this morning. Can you instead deliver some of this for me?” She gestures to a corner of the countertop, where a basket is brimming with food.

“Of course I can, Miss Peaches,” I say, moving toward the basket. “What is this, and where do you need me to take it?”

“It’s a bit of food I prepared for Miss Mabel,” she explains. “She’s getting too old to be cooking for herself and her two grandsons constantly. Not that she was ever really a good cook to begin with,” she whispers conspiratorially.

“Anyway,” she continues with a huff, “I want to ensure they have some grub for the next few days. If you can take this down to the Davis farm, I’m sure Todd or Trevor is working by now. They should be able to take it off your hands and keep you busy today.”

I almost roll my eyes at the mention of Trevor, easily recalling the lanky redhead who accosted us yesterday afternoon, only to pant after Sunshine when she went to leave with us. What a tool.

I pick up the basket, warmth spreading through my chest at the thoughtfulness of the woman before me who spent her time preparing a basket full of food for Miss Mabel to make things easier for her family. During our tour last night, I got the impression that everyone in Rolling Hills works together, looking out for one another to ensure the community's success and safety. This basket is just another example of that genuine care.

“You do remember where the Davis farm is, don’t you, Adrian?” she asks. When I give her a resolute nod, she adds, “Good. I wouldn’t want you to get lost. I think your brothers would have a conniption. Farron, too, if she knew one of the new guys was on the loose and missing.”

I laugh at her statement, surprised by the seriousness in her tone when talking about her granddaughter’s reaction. “You’re somethin’ else, Miss Peaches,” I tell her with a big smile and a shake of my head. “I’m off to take this now. I’ll see you later, don’t miss me too much,” I call out as I leave, hearing her tinkling laugh sound in the kitchen.

I slowly make my way to the Davis farm, careful not to jostle the basket and risk something falling out. The sun is warm on my skin, and I take a moment to soak in the feeling of calm and safety that seems to envelop me here. My eyes are drawn everywhere, not knowing where to land. Yesterday, during our tour, I tried to absorb as much as possible while listening to Henry and Nora, memorizing the layout and the people we met. Today, I’m not in a rush, so I allow myself the freedom to bask in the beauty that surrounds me, stopping occasionally to inspect something more closely.

The grass and trees are still lively and bright from the summer months, and I take in the fields that surround the homes and sprawl up to the picturesque hillsides. The vibrant green landscape is dotted with wildflowers, adding splashes of color that dance in the gentle breeze. My eyes are constantly drawn to the small lake in the distance, and I can almost visualize people swimming and splashing about in the summer months or maybe ice skating during the winter when it’s frozen over. Birds chirp merrily, their songs mingling with the distant sounds of farm life. The air is filled with the earthy scent of freshly tilled soil and wildflowers (and the scent of cow manure that’s stronger in some areas than others, which I dutifully try to ignore).

As I take in my surroundings, my brain returns to my family. I imagine my mom would love it here with the vast, open skies and the endless fields stretching out in every direction towards the mountains. She would dramatically inhale the fresh air, her chest rising exaggeratedly before she’d break into a playful cough, pretending to hack up a lung from the faint scent of cow manure lingering in the breeze. Her laughter would follow. It’s a bright and familiar sound that I can almost hear.

Alondra, the youngest and our spoiled little princess, would feign outrage at the idea of having to live on a ranch. She’d place her hand over her heart in mock terror at the idea of getting dirty or doing chores like the rest of us. I can picture her running off to Theo or Kenji, trying to enlist them to help her avoid any responsibilities.

But Amaia…Amaia would be in her element here. She would probably get along so well with Farron.

My eyes catch on a big tree in the distance, its branches spreading wide and casting dappled shadows on the ground. For a moment, I swear I can see Amaia beneath it, the sunshine peeking through the leaves above, highlighting her golden hair. Her head is tilted back, resting against the bark of the tree, pulling strength and serenity from the Earth around her.

The image is so vivid that it tugs at my heart. I close my eyes for a moment, but when I open them again, that vision of Amaia is gone, and the tree stands alone, its branches swaying gently in the breeze.

I feel that ache in my chest, the reminder that I’ve failed them. My family is likely gone, and I never got to say goodbye or tell them I loved them one last time. I shake my head, attempting to dispel the thoughts, knowing now is not the time to let myself go down this path.

Approaching the Davis farm, I notice Todd working in the distance. He’s repairing a fence surrounding a smaller garden, his broad shoulders moving rhythmically as he hammers away, absorbed in his work. Trevor is nowhere in sight, and I can’t help but feel that this truly must be my lucky day. I approach Todd cautiously, not wanting to scare or jostle him into hammering one of his fingers. When he sets the hammer down momentarily, I seize the opportunity to call out to him.

“Oh, Toddy boy,” I sing out playfully, “I come bearing treats.”

He turns at my voice and stands up, wiping the sweat off his brow with a towel he pulls from his back pocket. His auburn hair is messy, only made worse as he runs his hands through it. We make our way towards each other, meeting in the middle, and he gives me a crooked grin, drawing attention to some of the dirt that’s ended up all over his face.

“All this for me?” he says, adopting a mock-transatlantic accent reminiscent of a 1950s movie star. “Why, Adrian, you shouldn’t have. We barely know each other.”

I laugh at his theatrics, shaking my head, but choose to play along. “Don’t flatter yourself, Todd. I only have eyes for another,” I tell him dramatically, donning my own accent. “This is from Nora. She wanted me to bring it over to Miss Mabel and her grandsons. You’re one of them, so I guess it sort of is for you.”

“Well, that’s a disappointment,” he says with a mock pout before breaking into a genuine smile. “Thanks for bringing it over. Grams will appreciate it, and so will we. She’s not exactly the best cook, you know. And it’s not like I have the time with all the work on the farm.”

“I’ve heard,” I reply, basket still in hand. “Nora mentioned something about that.”

Todd shakes his head, a grimace on his face. “No, Adrian, you don’t know. You can’t even begin to imagine what sort of food my Grams concocts in the kitchen. Science experiments are less deadly,” he says as a shudder racks his body.

I chuckle and shake the basket to emphasize my next point. “ Well, hopefully, this will save you from any more culinary disasters for a few days.”

“Seriously, though, thank you,” Todd says, his tone more earnest now. “Nora’s cooking is a lifesaver. I’ll make sure Grams and Trevor know to thank her.”

“No problem,” I say, feeling the warmth of the community spirit. “It’s nice to be part of a place where everyone looks out for each other.”

Todd nods in agreement. “Yeah, it’s what makes Rolling Hills special. We take care of our own.”

“So,” I say, giving the basket another playful shake, “where do you want this?”

“Oh, you can bring it inside to the kitchen if you don’t mind. My hands are a little dirty from my work,” Todd replies, holding up his grimy hands to emphasize his point. I nod in acquiescence and follow him to the front of the house, up the porch steps, which creak lightly under our weight. Inside, the house is cozy and welcoming, albeit smaller and less modern than the Hill house. The scent of old wood and faint traces of cooking spices linger in the air.

We enter the kitchen, and I set the basket on the counter. Though not new, the kitchen has a certain charm with its mismatched cabinets and vintage appliances. Todd moves to the sink, washing his hands thoroughly before grabbing a glass and filling it with cool water from a pitcher.

“Jeez, Toddy, slow down,” I tell him as I watch him quickly chug the glass and move to pour another. “Repairing the fence by the garden?”

“Unfortunately,” Todd says with a shake of his head, releasing a deep exhale. “Trevor messed up the one we had yesterday. I don’t know if he was being clumsy or intentionally taking out his frustrations on the little fence, but now I have to fix it. ”

“Do you think the weapon for this crime was a rake?” I ask him, putting on a detective voice and pretending I’m taking notes. Todd bursts into a loud laugh before catching himself and covering his mouth with his hand.

“Sorry, Grams is taking a nap right now,” he explains. “But yeah, the weapon was probably a rake. Trevor’s not even here today to help with any of the work that needs to get done. God knows where that fool ran off to or what he’s doing. I swear, most days, it feels like I’m completely alone here, having to take care of everything myself.”

His gray eyes fall closed as he tilts his head back against the cabinet behind him, a sigh escaping his lips. Now that he’s said something, I can see the small signs of exhaustion that line his face: the faint dark circles under his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders, the weariness in his face, and his overgrown scruff.

“Well, not today,” I tell him. “Nora doesn’t need me this morning, so I’ve got nothing to do. Put me to work, Toddy boy, and help me make myself useful.”

One of his gray eyes pops open as though he’s too tired to open them both, and he says, “You sure, Adrian?”

I nod, expressing my seriousness. I really do have nothing to do this morning, and I know Kenji’s off with the Abels, and Theo needs to rest. If Miss Peaches has no use for me, then at least maybe Todd does. He gives me a small smile and leads me back to the garden, where he starts to show me how to repair the fence.

The small garden is vibrant and well-tended, with rows of vegetables and a few flowering plants adding bursts of color. Most of the fence still stands around the garden's perimeter, protecting it from wandering animals. Todd walks me through the process, demonstrating how to measure, cut, and hammer the wood into place. As we work side by side, the sun climbs higher in the sky, and the morning air warms, filled with the scent of fresh earth.

“I really appreciate the help,” Todd says after a while, wiping sweat from his forehead. “It’s been tough trying to keep up with everything.”

“No problem,” I reply, enjoying the physical work and the sense of companionship that comes from working alongside him. “Happy to help. It’s nice to do something with my hands for a change.”

“What were you doing before this? You and your two friends,” he clarifies, his tone curious and his face neutral. “What’s your deal?”

“We’ve just been on the move for months,” I tell him, explaining how we were searching for my family and how we ended up here without giving away too much detail.

“Sounds familiar,” he says in a somber tone. “You’re not the only person here with loved ones missing…” He trails off, staring at a random tomato in the garden for a moment before his gaze meets mine again. “Even for me…My best friend– well, Jay and I’s best friend, Holden, left a few weeks ago on a supply run, all on his own. He’s still not back, so I gotta admit, I’m getting a little stressed about it,” he says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“He’ll be back,” I tell him, trying to inject as much hopefulness and earnestness into my tone. “We just gotta believe we’ll see them again and stay strong, you know?” He nods at my words, and we sit in silence for a few minutes, unmoving, both lost in our thoughts.

Finally, he nudges me on the shoulder with his own and, with a mischievous look, asks me, “Now tell me, Adrian… What’s it like living in the Hill house? Fare-bear being nice to you?”

“Fare-bear?” I ask incredulously with a laugh, as my mind stutters to a stop at the nickname he just used for my Sunshine.

“Trust me, that’s not nearly as bad as the nickname she has for me,” he says, looking around as though making sure we’re still alone before he leans in closer and whispers, “Toddler. That’s what she’s called me for years. Toddler.”

After hearing that, there’s no holding back the laughter, and we both fall into a fit. We pick up our tools and get back to work. As we continue working, the conversation flows easily, punctuated by laughter and the occasional groan when something doesn’t quite fit right. By the time we finish, the fence stands sturdy and secure. Todd leans back on his haunches, a satisfied smile on his face.

“Looks good,” he says, nodding appreciatively. “Thanks again, Adrian. You’re a lifesaver.”

“Anytime, Toddy boy,” I reply, clapping him on the back. “I’m just glad I could help out. Now, what else do you need help with?”

We continue working through a few tasks on the farm that need attention. Todd shows me how to weed the garden, explaining which plants are being grown. We repair a few loose boards on the small Davis barn, the wood creaking under our combined weight as we climb ladders and secure the panels.

As the morning progresses, Todd’s initial guarded friendliness fades, replaced by a more genuine warmth. We share stories and jokes, the barriers between us breaking down with each passing moment. He tells me about crazy things that he did with Jay and Holden, and I share similar stories from my life with Kenji and Theo. The simple act of working side by side, of contributing to something tangible, feels like it’s already creating a bond between us.

By the time the sun starts to set, we’ve accomplished more than I thought possible. The garden looks pristine, the barn is secure, and the fence stands as a testament to our hard work.

“Looks like we’re done here,” Todd says, surveying our handiwork. “Thanks again, Adrian. Seriously, you don’t know how much this means to me.”

“Don’t mention it,” I reply, pride and contentment welling up inside me. “It was good to be useful.”

As I return to the Hill House, I feel a sense of belonging and connection to this community. The walk back is peaceful, with the sun casting a golden glow over the landscape. Rolling Hills, with its rolling landscapes, vibrant fields, and the genuine kindness of its people, is quickly becoming more than just a temporary stop—it’s somehow already starting to feel like home.