Just Adrian

A Place inTown

The real estate office was squeezed between the post office and the diner, its window crowded with faded flyers advertising cabins, farms, and the occasional fixer-upper. A little bell tinkled as I stepped inside.

“Be right there!” a voice called from somewhere in the back.

A moment later, a woman appeared, short, wiry, glasses perched on her nose, a pencil stuck through her bun. She had that kind of presence that made it clear she’d been here forever, the kind of person who knew every creek, fence post, and scandal in town.

“Afternoon,” she said, sizing me up. “You’re new.”

“Adrian,” I said, holding out my hand.

She shook my hand briskly. Kayla Bright. Folks call me Miss K. I handle rentals and sales. Now, what are you looking for? And don’t tell me about an apartment. We don’t have an apartment here.”

I smiled. “No apartment. Something simple. Small. Maybe out of the way?”

Her eyes narrowed just a fraction, as if she were trying to read between the lines. “Are you running from someone?”

“Running to something,” I corrected, meeting her gaze.

That seemed to satisfy her. With a nod, she searched through a stack of folders until she pulled one free. “Cabin on Taylor’s Ridge. It has been empty since last fall. A bit drafty, but solid bones. "The wood stove works, the plumbing’s fine, the roof doesn’t leak, unless it rains sideways, then all bets are off.”

I let a slow whistle slip past my lips. “Sounds perfect.”

She raised a brow, one corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. “You want to see it first, city boy?”

“Let’s take a look,” I said, already picturing the winding road up Taylor’s Ridge.

Miss K smirked, sliding the folder across the counter. “Perfect for escaping or hiding, depending on how you look at it. You like it, you take it. Just don’t expect luxury. It’s honest. Quiet. And if you listen closely, you can hear the creek winding through the trees at night.”

I leaned over the counter, scanning the details. The cabin sounded like exactly what I needed, a place tucked away from wandering eyes, where the world slowed down, and I could breathe.

“You’re not wrong,” I said, meeting her gaze again. “This is exactly the kind of place I’m looking for.”

Miss K gave me a nod that felt like approval and a warning all at once. “Alright then, Adrian. Taylor’s Ridge it is. You’re going to like it here…if the town decides to let you.”

For a moment, the bell above the door jingled, and I imagined myself walking up that winding ridge road, the cabin waiting, quiet, unclaimed, mine, if I could make it so.

“Sounds perfect.”

She raised a brow, one corner of her mouth twitching in amusement. “You want to see it first, city boy?”

“Let’s take a look,” I said, already picturing the winding road up Taylor's

Ridge.

Miss K grabbed the folder and tucked it under her arm, swinging the office door open. The bell tinkled again, letting the quiet hum of Main Street spill in. Sunlight caught dust motes drifting lazily in the air, and I caught a glimpse of the diner across the street, smoke curling from the vent, mingling with the scent of fresh bread from the bakery.

We stepped onto the sidewalk, the uneven boards of the post office steps creaking beneath my weight. Miss K led the way, confident and unhurried, her boots kicking up tiny puffs of dust. I fell into step beside her, taking in the town through her eyes: friendly but sharp, small-town familiarity with just enough curiosity to keep you on your toes.

“Not much farther,” she said over her shoulder, nodding toward the ridge road that curled up behind the last row of houses. “Drive slow. Trees get narrow, and the corners don’t forgive mistakes.”

I glanced up the twisting path, already imagining the cabin tucked among the evergreens, woodstove smoke curling from its chimney, the creek murmuring somewhere close by. My chest tightened with a mix of anticipation and relief. Finally, a place that felt like it could be mine, untouched, quiet, and far enough away from the city’s chaos that I could breathe.

Miss K glanced at me again, a knowing smile in her eyes. “City boy,” she said, shaking her head, “You're going to love it here… if you can handle the quiet.”

The drive out was short, maybe ten minutes, but it felt like slipping into another world. Pavement gave way to gravel, lined with pines that leaned toward each other like they were whispering secrets. The scent of pine and damp earth filled the cab, mingling with the faint aroma of Miss K's coffee. By the time her truck rolled to a stop in front of a weathered cabin tucked at the edge of the trees, I felt the kind of quiet I hadn’t known I was craving.

It wasn’t big. A single story, dark wood siding, green shutters that had seen better days. The porch sagged slightly, and the steps groaned under my weight as I followed her up. But there was charm here, the kind money couldn’t buy, the kind that whispered, "You belong."

Miss K unlocked the door and pushed it open. “Well, here she is. Four walls, a roof over your head. Smells like cedar and dust. You’ll live.”

The air inside was cool, faintly musty, but sunlight filtered through the windows, catching dust mites drifting lazily. A stone fireplace dominated one wall. The kitchen was small, counters scarred and worn with decades of meals. Yet it felt… right.

I stepped further in, letting my hand brush the rough wood of the door frame. “I’ll take it.”

Martie snorted. “Don’t you want to think about it?”

“No.” My voice was firmer than I expected. “This is it.”

She studied me, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. Rent’s due on the first. Don’t skip it unless you want half the town knocking on your door. We take that seriously here.”

I almost laughed. In my old life, rent meant six-figure leases on anonymous high-rises. Here, it meant trust. Belonging. People notice if you vanish.

We signed the papers on the dusty counter, Miss K pulling forms from her folder like a magician with endless tricks. When it was done, she handed me a tarnished brass key.

“Welcome to Edinburgh Ville, Adrian. Don’t break the stove. And don’t feed them squirrels. They’ll never leave you alone.”

With that, she was gone, her truck rumbling down the gravel road, leaving the cabin and the quiet all mine.