A Mountain Man Christmas Crush (Mountain Men of Granite Junction #1)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

G ene 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.”

* * *

S arah St. James waved goodbye to the middle-aged couple in their Suburban as they drove out of her driveway. There went the last of her bookings for the season and the last of her income for a while. Though she shouldn’t be surprised. This was her first real season in the bed-and-breakfast business. She needed to build her reputation. And there weren’t too many people looking to come to Granite Junction, Montana in the winter, especially since she wasn’t close to any ski resorts. If they came here, they were more likely to stay at the Redemption Guest Ranch, though Tara Morgan had kindly sent her overflow guests from time to time. She’d said it was a business decision, a way to keep business in town and work together, but Sarah still felt like she was being thrown a bone. She hated charity.

Another car turned in her driveway and she waited for it to make its way up to the front door. Della Marquis got out, her cook and the woman who had become like a mother to her once her own mom had passed on, got out and hurried around, a corning ware dish covered in a towel in front of her.

“So, they left already, did they? How did they like their stay?”

Sarah pulled her fleece jacket around her. “They said they enjoyed it and loved their breakfast. They even asked for some of the lotion and soap I had in the rooms.”

A broad smile creased the older woman’s face. “I told you that you had a good thing with the goat’s milk product. They were good for more than eating us out of house and home.”

Sarah snorted. “Like there’s a big market for goat’s milk products here in Granite Junction. Anyway, I didn’t expect to see you today. I only have the one room, and I can handle cleaning it myself.”

Della cocked her head, looking puzzled. “Haven’t you checked your phone today? Come inside and I’ll tell you all the news. It’s too cold to be standing out here. We’ll be getting snow again soon enough.”

Sarah smothered a smile and followed her friend and mentor inside. Besides, she smelled coffee cake, and she was desperate for something to drown her sorrows and tea wouldn’t cut it. Sugar and cinnamon always helped.

A few minutes later, seated with a strong cup of Earl Grey and a generous slice of coffee cake, Sarah was feeling a little better. Della sipped her tea and sighed.

“Do you have any of your father’s hunting clothes left over? They should probably fit him just fine. The fancy things wouldn’t do at all, I think.”

Sarah frowned. “Fit who? What are you talking about?”

“Wanda Moore called me early this morning. She’s gathering some things for Gene Woodruff. Poor man lost everything in a fire last night. I would have thought you would have heard, since it was your father’s old hunting cabin that burned.”

Sarah grew cold at the thought of a fire at the cabin, at Gene being hurt. She pressed her hand to her stomach to still the flutters that always erupted when she thought of Gene. “Was Gene hurt? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. He was at the workshop when it happened, I think. But the cabin is a total loss. And just as winter has grabbed hold of us, too. More snow coming this week, I believe. He won’t be able to rebuild until the spring.”

“Where is he staying? Redemption Ranch is full for the holiday.”

Della shrugged. “You know Gene. He keeps to himself. I’m sure he’ll have it all sorted. Wanda just thought she could gather some clothes and things from the men in town, but my Russell is a bit smaller than Gene. Your dad used to be about his size before he got sick, and I thought maybe some of his old hunting clothes might work, if you still had them.”

Sarah’s mind was racing, thinking about the quiet man who had been so kind to her father over the years. Sure, her dad had taken the man under his wing, somewhat, but Gene had been a good friend to her dad even through his illness, though the visits had gotten sporadic in recent years and Sarah hadn’t known why. Her father had told to leave it alone and Gene had avoided her.

She thought maybe he’d sensed the crush she’d had on him when she’d first met him when she was eighteen and he’d been a man of almost thirty, new to town and clearly hurting from whatever had happened in his past. He’d been unfailingly polite to her, keeping his distance, even when coming to dinner and spending time with her father, but he made sure there was a space between him and her, until that one time she had gone to his workshop to bring him something to eat.

It had been a ruse. Her crush had grown to something like love, and she wanted him to see her as something more than a girl, more than his friend’s daughter. He’d shut her down fast and basically chased her from his workshop, telling her that she was too young, too much of a child for him and to find someone her own age. That knife had twisted inside of her, puncturing her heart, and she’d never made that mistake again. She’d thought she was over him, over her feelings, but hearing how he was alone and essentially homeless only made her want to help him. As a neighbor, of course. Nothing more.

“Where is he staying right now?” Sarah posed the question casually, not wanting to give away her thoughts, but her heart raced inside at the possibility. Her friend could be so protective, as everyone seemed to be around her.

“I’m not sure. Maybe his workshop, or the Lodge. Now, let’s check out your father’s things, shall we? This is a great first step in cleaning out. He has been gone almost a year, dear.”