A Mountain Man for Christmas

1

Willa:

The snow storm is really starting to pick up outside. As I dragged my last suitcase into the cozy little log cabin on the mountain, I could barely see my hand in front of my face. I made it here just in time.

Not that it would’ve made a difference if I decided to stay back home for another day or two and ride out the storm. Now that my mom has passed away, I really don’t have any obligations to be anywhere. Which is exactly why I’m here, up in the mountains, as far away from civilization as I can possibly be while still having a solid internet connection so I can continue to work.

I don’t want to admit it, but I am really struggling with getting into the holiday spirit this year. I stopped at a little local hardware store on the way here and picked up some essentials so I could at least pretend like I care that it’s Christmas because I didn’t have the heart to go through all the old decorations in the attic that my mother had amassed over the years. Too painful. Too many years’ worth of memories to try and unpack right now.

I’ll just have to settle for this table top Christmas tree, a strand of white twinkle lights, and a wreath made from fresh greens with a big maroon bow. I love the way it smells, like I can bring the entire forest inside with me.

Oh yeah! I smile to myself. Speaking of smells… I unwrap the red and green layered candle from the brown paper and set it on the countertop. Home for the Holidays it’s called. Well, it is the holidays, and I suppose this will be my home for them.

This is a really beautiful cabin and I’m surprised at all the amenities it has. The first floor is a big open space with a modern kitchen, a living room complete with a fireplace and a cozy leather couch draped in a deer hide blanket, and a small bathroom. It has hardwood floors and vaulted ceilings, and it looks like someone put a lot of time and craftsmanship into building this place. Upstairs is a huge suite with a queen-sized four poster bed and a bathroom that is even nicer than the one in my house. I will definitely be taking advantage of that claw foot tub while I catch up on my reading list.

It’s hard to be sad in such a gorgeous place. I think me coming here would’ve probably made Mom really happy. Before breast cancer struck her, she loved to travel, and she passed that love on to me. We would go on month-long trips to foreign countries with nothing but our passports and a carry-on bag when I was growing up. If she taught me anything, it’s that memories are a whole lot more important than things, and boy did we make a lot over the years. My aunts always thought she was crazy dragging me around the world like that; they always tried to scare her with stories about tourists getting murdered by strangers who could spot them from a mile away.

My mother also taught me how not to be a tourist. Though Donna never blended in anywhere she went, she knew how to fit in. She knew how to make people feel good, and respect their culture, eager to learn about their ways and their cuisine. I hope I can do her justice in that regard. I plan on doing my best to respect the local culture here, at least.

I made sure I brushed up on my wilderness survival skills when I decided to book this place for the month. I love and respect nature, it’s always been my escape place, and I’m looking forward to some snowy hikes and days of cross-country skiing while I’m out here. I also know what an inconvenience and danger it is to rescue workers to have to come out here and save people who don’t know how to take care of themselves. I definitely don’t want to be a burden on anyone. I learned how to start a fire, how to do first aid on myself, and some basic tracking skills just in case my phone can’t get GPS service.

I admit, at this point in my grieving, I’m totally ok with not even seeing anyone for the whole month, and definitely not talking to anyone. Well, except my viewers. They have been with me for this whole journey, and abandoning them for a month isn’t fair to them.

I need to figure out how I’m going to set up my light kit for filming here in the cabin. The kitchen in this place is amazing, so I will definitely be able to just film myself cooking without having to rearrange too much. My viewers don’t just tune in for tips on how to make restaurant quality cuisine at home, though. What really keeps them coming back for more is the personal connection I forge. I drag the red leather chair over to the floor to ceiling window that gives a perfect view of the stunning forest landscape in the backyard. I grab my little Christmas tree and set it on the end table. I pull out my umbrella lights and get them set up. I don’t really feel like going live right now, but it’s Sunday night and I don’t want to worry anyone. Fortunately, my viewers are used to seeing me at my worst. They don’t care if I’m all made up for the camera.

I’m not wearing any makeup. My leggings and long yellow flannel shirt are as much for comfort as they are practicality. I tuck my long brown hair up into a sloppy bun and sit down in the chair.

Hey, guys, I say into my laptop. I’m gonna be quick tonight because I just finished unpacking and I’m starving, but I wanted to let you know that I am here, and this place is heaven on earth. I’ll give you the grand tour soon, but for now, check out this view! I tilt my laptop towards the window, showing off the snow falling from the sky, piling up quickly. This week I’m going to be making quick and hearty soups that your family will love, because I know how hard it is this time of year to find the time to put a good meal on the table. I want to thank everyone personally who has reached out to me over the last few weeks with a kind word and thoughts and prayers. I cannot stress enough how much you have helped me through this sad time in my life.

I feel myself beginning to choke up a little bit. These people have been so kind to me, and my mother, too. I can feel her here with me right now, encouraging me to go forward with my life and keep building the family business we worked so hard on together.

Woah, I say. Did you guys see that? A golden retriever is bounding through the backyard, its head barely sticking out of the deep heavy snow. I can hear someone yelling from afar and the sound of a motor.

I’m going to go see what that’s all about. I hope you and your families have a great night. I’ll be around later to chat. I close the laptop screen and kneel in front of the window, watching the dog as it tries its best to run through the snow, bobbing up and down, not getting very far very fast.

Come here, Billy, you crazy mutt! the man’s voice yells. He’s riding on a snowmobile pulling a sled behind it. I don’t know why I feel the need to duck down to the floor so he can’t see me watching them, but I do.

Suddenly, I hear a strange sound at the front door. It’s not knocking, but more like scratching. Then there’s the barking. I think this crazy dog wants inside.

2

Colton:

Billy, come on, I yell as I park my snowmobile in the driveway of the cabin. I know the dog probably noticed a car in the driveway and thinks that Carrie and Kimber are in town, which is why he took off on me while I was packing up the sled with wood pellets.

That crazy dog sure loves my daughter. He loves my ex-wife too. What can I say? I agree with him on at least one part of that equation.

They’re not in there, I assure him, petting him as I hook him up to his leash. Just a few more days til Kimber gets here. I’m actually not really sure who is renting out the cabin for the month, just that her name is Willa Rosebloom, which I assume is some sort of alias, and that they paid in full, along with the hefty security deposit. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was some rich guy looking for a love shack to stash his mistress in for a month. It wouldn’t be the first time people came out here to the mountains to indulge in their dirty little habits. Whatever. It’s a nice extra paycheck for me, and since Carrie’s new husband can’t get off work and they aren’t coming for Christmas this year, she won’t need the cabin anyway.

I’m just here to keep the sidewalks shoveled and make sure the pellet stove is full of wood so the cabin stays heated. Basic maintenance stuff. I should probably at least introduce myself just so they don’t think I’m invading their privacy creeping around outside with the dog.

To my surprise, the front door swings open before I can even get to the porch. Standing in the doorway is a really