A Mountain Man Christmas Crush

Gene Woodruff loved his solitude. He liked peace and quiet, the silence of the forest, and his little cabin in the middle of nowhere, Montana. Well, it wasn’t exactly nowhere, Montana. He technically lived within the county limits of Granite Junction, but far enough outside of the small town and away from enough people to make it feel like he was in the wilderness. The little one-room cabin was a bit rustic for most people, a hunting cabin really, with no real plumbing and a composting toilet he built himself to minimize the impact on the environment. Most people wouldn’t have survived there for a season, much less ten years, but Gene had lived in far worse places, including the caves of Afghanistan, with bullets flying around him.
After his three tours, he’d left the military and been at a loss, unable to fit back in with his family or life at home. Too many people, too many demands, too many noises. He’d needed space. He found himself on the road and in a little diner one night in Granite Junction, talking with a former Navy guy who helped him find a place to stay. Earl had proven himself to be a good friend, especially when Gene had needed help kicking a nasty habit. He’d also found an alternative path for his future, making furniture and art with the wood in the surrounding forest.
He’d also made new friends, military buddies who drifted this way after they got out and somehow found their way to Granite Junction. The bonds from war and fellowship, along with shared tragedy and trauma, bringing them back together, yet their need for space letting them spread out on the mountains around Granite Junction. They were his brothers, more so than his own family, whom he hadn’t seen since he got out of the military. These men understood him, the demons that drove him also driving them to wander the woods and hills at all hours of the day or night. They helped him expand the hunting cabin he’d bought into something more permanent, helped him find the wood for his creations. Would they help him rebuild?
He sighed as he watched the flames destroy the place he’d finally settled into after ten years. A whine at his side made him squat and soothe the mutt he’d found abandoned in the woods a couple of months prior.
“No worries, Bo. We’ll find another place.” Hell, even if he had to sleep in his workshop, an option now that Cam Miller had returned to town, and they had a shared storefront and work area.
He wouldn’t ask one of his brothers. They would welcome him, but all of them liked their space, needed it with the demons from their past haunting their every step. He wouldn’t impose on any of them for more than a night or two.
But the store that he and Cam had was an option. There was a back room that he could crash in. Though, he would be a little too close to the customers who came into both shops, wanting to chat and hear from the artists about their creations. He’d been grateful that Cam found a young guy, Daniel, to manage the people connection, the buying, selling, and even the website angle. He worked the wood and now metal for his creations. He was happier that way, alone with his art, and now Bojangles.
They could sleep in the back room. Maybe. If the people would leave him alone.
Someone cleared their throat from a little to his right. He straightened slowly and turned to see Nathan Holt, Granite Junction’s sheriff, looking uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, Gene. The firefighters are doing their best, but you won’t be able to stay here, not for a while.”
“You mean, if ever,” Gene stated flatly.
With winter hard on them and snow already on the ground, he would have no chance of rebuilding, not yet. He could rough it, but not in these winters. And the pup deserved better, too.
He sighed. “Guess I’d better look for somewhere to stay.”
“You know people are already gathering stuff for you. We’re here for you, Gene.” Nathan stood a couple of feet away, respecting Gene’s personal space, which he appreciated. Nathan glanced down. “When did you get a dog?”
“Someone dumped him in the woods a couple of months ago. He’s still a pup. He’s good company. Might limit where I can stay, though.”
Nathan frowned. “I have a fenced-in yard if you have trouble finding a place that will take him.”
Bo whined and leaned into Gene’s leg as if sensing the turn of the conversation. Gene rested a hand on the pup’s head. “Nope. I promised him that I would stick with him. No one left behind.”
Nathan nodded. “I’ve made a few calls. The Travel Lodge might have a couple of rooms. With the holidays coming, they’re filling up with families visiting, but I’m sure Ted can find you a room. Zane also called and offered you the efficiency above the bar.”
Gene shook his head slowly. Too many people at both locations with the added temptation of alcohol at The Rock, something he had controlled years before, but he didn’t need the knowledge that it was right downstairs. He had never quite gotten to the alcoholic stage, hated the feeling of being out of control, but he’d started to drink a little more than he was comfortable with after his discharge, so he rarely drank now, sticking to one beer at most if he indulged at all. Of course, knowing the place was filled with people and loud music was a good deterrent, so there was that.
Nathan correctly interpreted his hesitancy and nodded. “I put a call in to Tara and West to see if there are any cabins available at Redemption Ranch. But I know they had a full house for the holidays.”
Gene wasn’t particularly religious. That ship had sailed years before, but the snarky comment came out before he could pull it back. “Ya got a stable I could use?”
Nathan grinned. “I think we can do better than that. Give me a few minutes. And keep an open mind.”