Beneath Dark Skies (Rolling Hills Ranch #1)

17. Farron

SEVENTEEN

FARRON

OBSERVING, NOT STALKING

Day 400

“Sweetie, what are you doing?”

My grandmother's voice startles me from behind, and I jump slightly before turning to face her, finding her watching me with a quizzical look on her face. To be fair, she may have found me in a precarious situation: Crouched down below the window of the back door near the kitchen, Magnum obediently by my side, discretely watching Kenji and Adrian inside.

I wouldn’t necessarily call it spying or stalking, just…observing.

But my grandmother has clearly caught me in the act.

It's been a few days since their arrival, and my shoulders haven’t stopped hunching since. I'm in a constant state of awareness, especially since they're staying with my grandparents, only a couple hundred feet away from where I sleep. They've been keeping busy, allowing me some one-on-one time with Theo, which I surprisingly haven’t minded one bit. Theo’s easy to talk to, exuding warmth at all times. It’s when these guys all get together that I find myself particularly wary.

After a few days of observations, I’m pretty convinced that they don’t mean any harm. I just hate that they're here—that my grandparents like them and that they've become assets to this place in such a short time. It's only been a few days since they’ve arrived, and I can't help but think that it just shouldn’t be possible. Ma can't get enough of Adrian, and from speaking to Todd, it seems he’s similarly impressed. Mr. Abel has praised how much help Kenji has been with Jay.

I realize I can't avoid my Ma's questioning look forever. I stand up, but as I do, I slide to the right to stand behind the wall, out of view from the two men inside. “Oh, nothing. I was just heading in to get some coffee. Want any?” It’s a pretty sad attempt at deflection and does little to sway her suspicion.

“Ronnie, sweetie, what's going on?” Ma asks, her eyes filled with sympathy. Apparently, I'm more transparent than I'd like to be.

I stand behind the wall, trying to shield myself from the situation unfolding inside. “Nothing is going on,” I say, my voice lacking conviction. But Ma knows me better than that and only raises her eyebrows as she continues to stare at me.

Gathering my thoughts, I gesture discreetly towards the men lurking just beyond the wall, helping themselves to our space. “I just don't get why you're letting them take over like this,” I murmur, frustration seeping into my words. “They're practically making themselves at home, and you're just... letting them. This is our house, Ma. Our home, where Holden should be.”

Ma steps towards me, her touch gentle as she places a hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, they're here because their friend is hurt. They say they're family. Wouldn't you want that kind of support if it were us or Holden?”

I look at her, puzzled, as I feel conflicted. Of course, I would. It's just... I can't shake this feeling that my grandparents are becoming numb, that everyone is drifting further away from worrying about Holden with each passing day.

Before I can say anything else, my Ma speaks. “Just give them a chance, okay? I have a good feeling about them.” She gives my arm a light squeeze and I feel the tension slightly leave my body. I trust Ma with all my heart, and if she believes in these guys, then I owe it to her to try and be more understanding, and to give them a chance.

I can't promise complete acceptance, but I can strive to dial back my more obvious disdain and anger. “I'll try,” I mutter begrudgingly, my voice laced with a hint of reluctance. Try being the operative word.

“Alright, darling,” Grandma chimes in, stepping back and gesturing towards the kitchen door. “Why don't you go fix yourself that cup of coffee?”

I open my mouth and begin to protest with an, “Oh, I wasn't going to get cof–” and abruptly stop when Ma shoots me a knowing look, catching me in my little white lie. “Fine,” I concede with a grumble, slipping through the door while Ma heads towards the porch to find Pa.

As I step into the kitchen, I'm met with the imposing presence of the two men I was merely observing just a moment ago. Their eyes follow me as I close the door behind me, and my eyes do the same, flitting between Adrian’s tattooed arms and Kenji’s stupidly large legs. An uncomfortable silence settles in the air as we take each other in.

“Well, this is awkward,” I remark dryly, trying to break the tension.

Before I can make a move towards the coffee maker, Kenji abruptly stands, his interruption cutting off my sentence. “There's coffee?—”

“I was going to—” I start simultaneously, exchanging a surprised glance with Kenji.

Adrian's amused grin only adds to the awkwardness as I murmur a quick “thanks” and approach the mug rack. I'm relieved when Kenji resumes his seat; it feels stifling enough in here without him hovering over me. Magnum chooses that moment to leave my side and run over to Kenji’s, settling down at his legs. I narrow my eyes and scoff before averting my gaze from the treacherous little rat.

Pouring myself a cup of coffee, I reach for the sugar and notice a spoon already nestled in the container. A small detail, one that should be inconsequential and very likely would be on any other day, but it catches my attention. My grandparents don't take sugar in their coffee, and Adrian didn’t reach for any yesterday. My mind cuts back to his comment the other morning while he giggled like a loon. “Just how Kenji likes it.”

I shake my head, refusing to believe it’s Kenji’s doing. It could have been anyone else, I reason with myself. People come and go from this house all the time, and then there’s Theo, too. Lost in my mind, I begin to question myself and my aversion to being anything like Kenji. I mean, yes, the man is sort of a major dick, but that doesn’t explain my absolute mental recoil at having one thing in common with him.

I push aside the thoughts, deciding that I don’t really want to ponder the psychological reasoning and delve into the depths of my psyche over a mundane matter like coffee. At least, not this early in the morning. I toss the spoon into the sink with a clang before turning back to face the room.

Of course, I’m met with a similar scene as the one I walked into: Adrian still lounging with his characteristic ease and Kenji's stoic presence casting a shadow over the room. Adrian gestures towards the empty seat beside him, silently inviting me to join them. I figure it couldn't hurt to take a moment before checking on Theo. As I settle onto the stool, I can't help but sneak a glance at Kenji's coffee before quickly reprimanding myself.

Nope, not today, Farron. Remember? It’s too early for this shit.

“Hey Sunshine, how are you today?” Adrian's question is laced with genuine warmth, his eyes sparkling affectionately. Despite my initial reservations, I find myself softening towards him. Breakfast the other day showed Adrian in a different light.

I had pegged him as the type who wouldn't take anything seriously, not even in a zombie apocalypse. But learning about his family and the lengths he's gone to in order to find them has shifted my perspective. Sure, he still has this carefree and light aura, but there's depth to him that I hadn't anticipated. There’s a part of me that almost envies him for the way that he’s able to remain upbeat around everyone else, even in the wake of bad news.

Over the past few days of observation– not stalking– I’ve noticed a subtle sort of melancholy about him, especially when he thinks no one’s looking. He mentioned that Rolling Hills was his last resort when it came to his search for his family, and I can only imagine that the realization his family isn’t here has probably hit him hard. I feel the same heartache that Adrian does. I know that burden. I know that pain.

And that's precisely why I need to maintain some distance.

Clearing my throat, I reply, “I'm fine. How are you?” I intentionally direct the question solely at Adrian, excluding Kenji.

Kenji responds with a grunt as if the effort of speaking is beneath him.

His dismissive attitude bothers me, and I shoot him a glare, receiving one in return. Adrian, however, remains unfazed by our silent exchange, his attention solely on me.

“I'm great,” Adrian quips. “I slept like the dead.”

My initial shock gives way to laughter, a deep, full belly that feels liberating. I laugh so hard that tears prick at my eyes, and my breath comes in ugly wheezes. It's been a while since I've laughed like this, and it catches me off guard. As the laughter subsides and I wipe away my tears, I notice Kenji's gaze fixed on me, his expression unreadable.

“Too soon?” Adrian asks with a sheepish grin.

“I’m not sure the dead are sleeping much these days, Adrian,” I tell him, another laugh bubbling out of me. “So, what's on the agenda for today?"

As Adrian enthusiastically shares his plans to learn Ma's apple cobbler recipe and promises to whip up a batch just for me, I can't help but feel a soft smile tug at the corner of my lips. His genuine warmth and kindness are disarming, and for a moment, I allow myself to simply bask in his presence, pointedly ignoring the heated stare I can feel burning into my head from the other side.

After we finish our coffee, Adrian moves to retrieve my mug, but I politely decline, insisting that I can take care of it myself. He looks down at me from his standing position at my side and winks at me. “It’s okay, Sunshine,” Adrian starts as his hand wraps around the mug, his fingers grazing mine. “I enjoy taking care of people, remember?”

It's as if a jolt of electricity courses through me, and I hastily release the mug as if it's suddenly become too hot. I turn and catch Kenji’s stern expression directed at Adrian, a silent warning that doesn't escape my notice.

Feeling a sharp urgency to leave, I pivot on my heel and head towards the door, determined to escape the tension permeating the kitchen. Before I can escape, Kenji's voice cuts through the air. “Are you going to check on Theo?”

His words are laced with a not-so-subtle accusation, and I can't help but feel a surge of frustration. It's astonishing how quickly I've learned to decipher Kenji in a few short days. He's not simply asking about Theo out of concern for him. He’s questioning my competence and whether I shirk my responsibilities or not.

Forcing a smile, I twirl a curly strand of hair around my finger, my sarcasm surging up in full force. “Oh, I don't know,” I reply in a saccharine voice. “I was thinking of taking EJ for a ride and maybe lending Trevor a hand with something.”

Kenji's complexion noticeably pales at the mention of Trevor, and I relish in the satisfaction of rattling him. Whether it's because he doubts my commitment to Theo or simply dislikes Trevor, I couldn't care less. I’m sick and tired of his unwarranted scrutiny, especially when he starts questioning my morals regarding my patients.

With a forcibly polite goodbye, I thank Adrian for cleaning up and leave Kenji to stew in his sour mood. I make my way out of the kitchen and past the stairs. My eyes remain fixed on the floor as I pass by Holden's closed bedroom door, a silent acknowledgment of the absence that still eats away at me, even if it doesn’t for anyone else. I reach Theo’s room, which is really just the old office, and lift my gaze, finding the door ajar—a silent invitation to enter.

I've come to appreciate these morning interactions, where Theo leaves the door open to signal that I'm welcome in what is now his space. It's become our silent routine. Theo is nestled in bed, engrossed in a book with his injured leg propped up. He looks freshly showered, signaling that Kenji or Adrian were here earlier helping him. His dark curls appear longer when his hair is damp, and his wire-rimmed glasses highlight his golden eyes.

As I walk up to the end of the futon, he notices me and offers a warm smile that causes those damn dimples to appear, signing a greeting. He’s started to sign little things instead of writing them down, teaching me as he goes. I don’t mind. I’ve been able to pick up on a few things, and I’m sure it’s easier for him instead of constantly writing things down.

I move around the futon to the chair that’s at the side and drag it a little closer. As I adjust my seat, he holds out a piece of paper towards me. I grab it and look to see what he wrote, only to find that he’s already answered all of the questions I was prepared to ask him today, an indicator that he’s become used to our routine together just as much as I have.

“My leg feels great. I can tell it’s healing nicely. I don’t hobble as much when I stand on it. No fever. I feel fine.”

Not fighting the grin that grazes my face, I reply, “Well, it looks like my job is done,” earning a silent chuckle from Theo in response. I get up and unwrap his leg, just looking to see how everything is healing and ensure nothing looks worrisome. After getting to a point where I feel comfortable with what I see, noting that Theo should be good to start moving around using a crutch in another day or two, I wrap it back up and sit back on the chair.

I glance down at the book he's reading, noting its title, Restoration Agriculture. I recognize it from our library, though I’ve never read it myself. I prefer literature of a higher level, such as Twilight. You know, books with both substance and supernatural creatures.

“Looks like some thrilling reading.” I quickly scribble out and pass it to Theo.

He catches my eye and smirks, acknowledging my comment, before jotting down his own on the piece of paper. “For someone who was a horticulturist, this is as exciting as it gets.”

”Better than porn?” I quip out loud without thinking, instantly regretting my choice of words as I watch Theo balk, his eyes on my lips. But Theo's response, passed to me on his pad, elicits another round of laughter from both of us. “This is porn to me,” he writes. I can't help it when a second belly laugh escapes my lips today.

It’s not the first time I’ve laughed with Theo over the last few days. He’s witty and easy to talk to, and I find that I like learning more about him. Conversation flows easily between us, and I find myself drawn into Theo's world as he shares anecdotes from his field of expertise. His passion for plants and their medicinal properties is almost contagious, and I can’t help but find myself impressed by his knowledge. He paints a vivid picture of the plants that can benefit Rolling Hills, particularly the ones he knows will help with pain, injuries, and even general crop use. I’ve long been worried about what will happen when we run out of things like antibiotics and pain relievers, but Theo makes it seem accessible in the long term.

Our conversation eventually shifts as Theo notes the excessive amount of books we have on farming, equipment, and seasonal changes. The old office, now a makeshift exam room where Theo’s been staying, is wall-to-wall full of bookcases. I explain to Theo that many of the books were already there, remnants of the farm before the outbreak. But when I began venturing out on supply runs, I made it a point to snatch up any books I came across. There is still so much we don’t know, and unless someone walks in with the knowledge, like Theo, we’ll never know. That’s not even touching on the fiction books I’ve snatched up to provide an escape for me at a time when an escape was what I needed.

Theo nudges me with his hand as he returns the paper, and I find myself briefly confused by his note. “I also see you have a taste for the classics.” I look up to find him pointing over to one section of books that is all romance, making my lips quirk.

“Yeah, those are my Grandma’s.” Theo’s brow furrows like he’s considering that before he shakes his head, a silent laugh leaving his lips.

My cottage has no more room for books, so they’ve started to make their way into the main house. For the sake of my grandparents and Holden’s sanity, I’ve only brought in the tame romances, leaving the particularly spicy stuff in the cottage. As iconic as Ice Planet Barbarians is, I’m not sure Ma wouldn’t have a heart attack if she cracked that one open.

I find Theo studying my face closely before quickly writing a note and handing it to me. “Why do I feel like you’re hiding the romances you actually like to read?”

“Because you’re observant and correct,” I answer out loud as I look at him, a smirk on my face. “All the really good stuff is back in my cottage.” I pass to him.

“Will you bring me one of them to read?” he passes back, and I look up to see him with a pout on his face.

“I’ll bring you some books from my secret stash if you agree to teach me ASL so I can spy on the other two,” I tell him, an evil gleam in my eye. His face is overcome with a giant smile as he seals our deal with a handshake before I finally say my goodbyes to check on Nessie. Before I leave the room, I turn one more time, only to see Theo picking up his ‘exciting’ agriculture book again, a smirk on his face.