Page 34 of Celebrating the Season

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Your second wind blew past about half an hour ago, city boy. Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

He hesitated, clearly torn between his determination and his exhaustion. “But we’re not finished…”

“The snow’ll still be here later. Besides, you’ve earned yourself a break. How about I show you some of my woodwork?”

Boaz’s eyes lit up, his fatigue momentarily forgotten. “Really? Fuck yeah, I’d love that!”

I led him to the shed, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness. I sold my work online and at markets and fairs, so I was used to people seeing it, but I’d rarely cared about anyone’s opinion. I sure as fuck cared about what Boaz thought of it. Of me. More than I’d like to admit.

As I flicked on the lights, Boaz did a sharp intake of breath. “Holy shit,” he whispered, his eyes wide as saucers.

He moved slowly through the space, his gaze darting from one sculpture to another. His fingers reached out, almost reverently, to trace the contours of a life-sized bear I’d carved last winter.

“This is… Fuck, Ellery, this is incredible. How the hell did you learn to do this?”

A warmth spread through my chest at his genuine enthusiasm. “Years of practice. And a lot of trial and error.”

As Boaz continued to explore, his fingers dancing over the intricate details of the bear’s fur, I couldn’t look away from the wonder on his face. It was a stark contrast to his usual fidgeting, and I realized I was seeing yet another side of him—one that only endeared him to me further.

“You’ve got a real gift,” Boaz said, turning to me. “These are amazing. I mean, I knew you were talented, but this… This is next level.”

I felt my face heat, unused to such direct praise. “Thanks.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “It’s more of a hobby, really.”

Boaz snorted. “A hobby? Dude, these are better than most of the crap they sell in expensive stores in LA. People would pay a fortune to have these in their home or garden.”

“I do sell online, but shipping’s a bitch, so most buyers are local or at least regional.”

“Hmm, yeah, I can see that. But we need to find a way to set you up with some of those interior decorators rich people use. One of my roommates is an assistant to one. I’ll ask him if he knows how to do that. Seriously, you have an amazing talent.”

Jesus, he was almost embarrassing me with his praise, not something I’d thought possible. To distract him, I moved toward a smaller workbench, my fingers trailing over the polished surface. “Want to see something a little different?”

Boaz’s eyes lit up, his whole body seeming to vibrate with enthusiasm. “Hell yeah, I do!”

Opening a drawer, I pulled out a collection of hand-carved figurines, each no bigger than my palm. “These are my smaller projects, all hand-carved.”

“Holy shit…” Boaz leaned in close. His fingers hovered over a tiny fox, its tail curled around its body. “These are incredible, Ellery. How do you even…? I mean, the detail is insane!”

“It’s all about patience.” I picked up the fox. “This little guy took me a few days. I was inspired by a family of foxes I saw near the river last spring.”

Boaz’s eyes darted between me and the figurine, his admiration clear. “You’ve got the steadiest hands I’ve ever seen. No wonder you were such a badass smokejumper.”

I laughed, a full, hearty sound that surprised even me. “Trust me, carving is a hell of a lot safer than jumping out of planes into wildfires.”

“I bet.” Boaz pointed to a small, intricately carved tree. “What about this one? It looks… I dunno, older, maybe? It’s a little damaged.”

I picked up the tree, memories washing over me. “Good eye,” I said softly. “This was one of my first pieces. Made it as a good luck charm when I entered the Army. It’s modeled after an old Douglas fir near my childhood home, and it’s traveled all over the world with me.”

Boaz’s expression softened. “That’s beautiful. It’s like you’re preserving memories in wood.”

His insight caught me off guard. I’d never thought of it quite like that, but he was right. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

He rose on his toes and kissed me softly. “Thank you for sharing your art with me.”

I swallowed thickly. “You’re welcome. Come on, let’s get back inside. It’s time for lunch.”

The cold nipped at our faces as we trudged back to the cabin. I was also feeling the previous exertion, so it was time to refuel. “How about a veggie stir-fry?” I suggested as we stomped the snow off our boots at the door.

Boaz’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds amazing.”

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