Aaron
Page 1
Aaron
Hathaway House, Book 1
Dale Mayer
Books in This Series:
Aaron, Book 1
Brock, Book 2
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About Brock
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
Welcome to Hathaway House, a heartwarming military romance series from USA TODAY best-selling author Dale Mayer. Here you’ll meet a whole new group of friends, along with a few favorite characters from Heroes for Hire. Instead of action, you’ll find emotion. Instead of suspense, you’ll find healing. Instead of romance, … oh, wait. … There is romance—of course!
Welcome to Hathaway House. Rehab Center. Safe Haven. Second chance at life and love.
Former Navy SEAL Aaron Hammond has no idea how he wound up at Hathaway House, Texas. Nor does he particularly care. All he can see is his anger. Anger at the betrayal that destroyed his physical body and at the loss of the future he wanted but that he’ll never have now. He’s a cripple, less than half a man, and all he can look forward to is a half life, alone with himself and his pain.
Dani Hathaway runs Hathaway House with her father, an ex-military man nicknamed the Major, and she knew Aaron and his brother SEAL Levi in another life. Levi was a good friend to her through her difficult teen years, but it was Aaron who caught her eye more than a decade ago. When she heard what happened to him, she moved heaven and earth to get him to Hathaway House, where she could help him regain his health and return him to the man he used to be.
Old feelings resurface as Dani continues to push Aaron to acknowledge that his life is not over, and that, if he chooses, he can find both love and a future at Hathaway House.
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Chapter 1
Where the hell am I? Aaron Hammond understood this was Texas. But he’d never seen this corner of it before. A place he couldn’t have imagined. If he’d been asked to guess his location, he’d have said Kentucky, with the rolling green hills, white-fenced fields and … horses.
Aaron reached out his hand to stop the orderly’s progress. It already choked him that he couldn’t manage this short distance on his own. Accepting help was one thing—charity was the worst though.
They had come from the parking lot—which was just dust and gravel, nothing even close to resembling the clean medical facility he’d left this morning. He took several deep gulps of the fresh country air and wondered what life had done to him. He’d gone from a spotless naval hospital, with daily visits to a top physical therapy department, to this. Sure, he’d been screaming and hollering to get the hell out of there. That will happen when you take an active, top-of-the-top, best-of-the-best SEAL and knock him flat—removing what was left of his leg and ripping the shit out of his back. He wasn’t paralyzed, but it would be a long time before he was whole again. He could live without the leg. He didn’t have much choice—he had to live without a leg—but he wanted to make sure his back was strong enough to carry the extra burden.
Unnerved by this 180 jolt to his system that had him feeling unbalanced and off-center, he went on the defensive.
“What the hell is this place?” he asked. He’d arrived by ambulance—the paperwork had been exchanged, and now he was in the care of this man who, according to the tag on his colored shirt, was named George. Aaron had ignored the earlier introductions.
“Hathaway House,” George replied calmly.
What kind of name was that anyway? It sounded like a last patch of ground for aging horses. Which just might be appropriate, considering the ones he could see in the distance. “How the hell did I get here?”
“This was chosen to be the next-best step in your healing and recovery. You signed the transfer papers.”
“See? I hear those words, but they don’t compute.” If there was one thing he liked, it was all his boxes checked—his Ts crossed and his Is dotted. Not to mention he was a bit of a computer geek. None of this made any sense. He understood code, but he could decipher nothing here—just a blank slate of confusion. Sure, he’d signed transfer papers, but he’d had no idea he was coming to a place like this.
“I believe you requested a change of scenery.” George pushed him up the ramp. “This is a great place.”
The new deck opened out into a much better view. If this was a ranch, it was like none he’d ever seen before. It looked like a converted old school, with some kind of a Western theme. It wasn’t terribly pretty, and yet it wasn’t terribly institutionalized either. It had … character. He gave a half snort under his breath and settled back into the wheelchair. Instead of going through the double entry doors, George pushed Aaron around to the back of the deck and stopped, letting him take a look.
Beautiful green fields to the left, more fields to the right—a mix of horses thrown in. He wasn’t exactly sure, but he thought he also saw a donkey and maybe a mule. The animals grazed happily. A picture-postcard moment. They looked happy and to be enjoying life as best they could.
His heart went out to one of the horses, an animal meant to race and run for miles, with some kind of artificial leg. How the hell did they get the horse to accept that? As he watched, a three-legged dog came running toward them, its tail wagging. Another dog came running, a set of wheels attached to its back, and barking like a crazy man.
Then Aaron understood.
This wasn’t a place just for injured people, this was for injured animals too.
A heavy breath escaped his chest. As much as he hated to think he didn’t belong here, a part of him said he belonged more than most. He looked down to where his leg should’ve been, then back at the dog with wheels. The animal didn’t seem to give a damn, even missing both hind legs. That old phrase, life is a bitch, and then you die, ran through his head.
He’d been saying that over and over again for most of his life. But now, for the first time, he wondered what it would take to change that attitude, to be more like the dog’s? He reached out a hand, wincing as this odd angle pulled on his back. The dog reached up and shoved his nose into Aaron’s palm, as if he knew Aaron’s range of movement was limited.
Aaron gently stroked the top of the dog’s head and scratched behind his ears.
“Lots of animals are out here,” George said. “The little guy with the wheels is called Racer. The three legged one is Tipler.”
George pushed the wheelchair forward until they came around to the back where the deck widened again into an area that ran almost the full length and width of the house. Multiple chairs were set about, and wheelchair ramps ran up and down. At the back of the deck, parked close to a heavy wooden railing, was a very large black man, missing both legs, cuddling with the smallest dog ever.
The realization came to him that, although he was here, in a brand-new environment, nothing had changed. He was still surrounded by people as broken and defeated as he was. He made an effort to glance away from the big man and the tiny dog but not before he had caught the man’s gaze.
The man studied Aaron for a moment and then gave a slow smile. “Welcome. Right now you hate it. You want to be anywhere else but here. However, in a couple weeks, you’ll ne
ver want to be anywhere else.”
Aaron was pretty damned sure that would never happen. He gave a curt nod before George pushed him through the open-wall space into a massive living room or community area. George pushed the chair all the way through the room, back to the front doors they’d avoided in the first place.
Once there, George stopped at the reception desk. “Dani, this is Aaron.”
Aaron studied the woman who had changed the tone of George’s voice. She was young but not too young. She was pretty but not too pretty. In fact, a whole lot about her was just right. Yet something was also familiar about her.
Well, that was just too damned bad. The chances of him ever having a sexual relationship again were zero. He might still have his genitals, but he hadn’t seen one sign that the damned thing worked anymore. No way in hell would he start a relationship as half a man. Better if he bowed out forever. Friendships without benefits would be his new normal.
He looked up at the woman, her huge chocolate-brown eyes and the soft look in them. He’d never seen that look before, at least never turned in his direction. He gave her a curt nod. “Morning.”
“Good morning, Aaron. I’ve been looking forward to your arrival.”
Inasmuch as he wanted to say a lot about that—how he didn’t want to be here, and actually why was he here?—the only thought in his mind currently was about losing himself in those eyes swelling with compassion. A gaze that said she knew and understood his thoughts, his turmoil, but was happy to see him anyway. A gaze that made him want to believe in a better life. That such a thing was possible—even though he already knew differently.
How sad was that?
Dani Hathaway had awaited his arrival for days, and she’d fully expected him to not recognize her. She’d hoped he would, but … well, it had been a long time. What she hadn’t expected—and should have, all things considered—was his anger.
Dani returned her attention to the paperwork in front of her before facing the computer screen to check Aaron in.
Another angry soldier. Angry at the world. Angry at himself. Feeling guilty, feeling hurt, and—more than anything—feeling confused by it all.
She understood. No, she’d never been to war. No, she hadn’t been injured in some horrific event. No, she hadn’t spent a lifetime dealing with catastrophic circumstances, but she’d been dealing with men like Aaron for a long enough time. In fact, her father had been one just like him. But the major, as everyone called him, was somebody else now, thankfully.
Having taken over the active business management of this place a long time ago, she’d helped build it to what it was now. The center was her father’s pet project, and it had a full team of doctors, physical therapists and counselors. He’d started this massive undertaking, and she’d been more than willing to step in and help carry on. The major was more or less only here for support now … and to help keep spirits up on both sides of the equation.
In the beginning, Hathaway House had been a saving grace for her father. It’d been just the two of them and Gram for so long. Dani’s mother had died when she was just a little girl, and she had been raised by her father and her grandmother. Then they had lost Gram too.
She worked here to do everything she could to help these men turn their lives around. The center’s work was a gift that kept on giving. As these men healed, the families living in turmoil around them also healed. That part she knew all too well.
When her father had come back from the war, he’d been angry-quiet at times, then explosive and volatile toward others. Broken in body, he had also fractured something in his spirit. He’d been a good man, but he had been through so much that some of that goodness fell through the cracks of this new persona. It had taken a lot of work, and many years, for him to pull it together and become the man he was today.
She knew that love was the answer, but it was more than love—or rather more than that marshmallow kind of love that people understood when they thought of the word. Sometimes love meant you had to take the hard line and had to force people to do things they didn’t want to do. Not necessarily a role she enjoyed, but she had to do it, so she did. And, from the looks of things, Aaron would need a little bit more of the tough love than most of the men who came here.
George would get him settled into his new room. Dani glanced down the empty hallway. Soon she’d go in and officially welcome him, make sure he didn’t need anything, and then she’d turn him over to the team who would rally behind him.
Except there were a few secrets in Aaron’s case. His medical files should have come with the folder she’d received. She searched her email, and, sure enough, they had been sent along with his other records. Her desk was piled high, so it had to be here somewhere. She spied the large envelope leaning up against the edge of the desk. She pulled back the flap to ensure the file was complete, with X-rays and notes, and … yes, it was. Perfect.
Dani grabbed her clipboard and clamped in a New Resident’s Questionnaire, then slipped a couple pens into her pocket and walked down the corridor toward Aaron’s new room. He’d been given a spot on the left, facing the horses. All the rooms in Hathaway House were lovely, but, of course, a few were better than others. He had been given one of the nicer rooms as a special request from the donor paying for his stay.
That someone had paid for him was a key issue here. It was expensive to treat the men and women properly. She wished she could open the doors to everybody in need, but the reality was she had not been able to find any state or governmental grant money, so private funding had to cover the bulk of Aaron’s costs and fees. Of course insurance covered a lot, but often there was a shortfall. The center ran at a slight loss most times. It took a lot of money to get the specialists and therapists they needed here and to build the equipment prototypes. Only the best would do for these people.
At the doorway to Aaron’s room she knocked. She wanted to make sure George was done and Aaron was settled in. When no answer came, she knocked again. When she heard a disgruntled sound inside, she slowly opened the door and peered around the edge. He was lying on his back on top of the bed.
“Good morning.”
Aaron rolled to the side and stared at her. He gave a disinterested shrug but said quietly, “Morning.”
She walked in with a bright smile and handed him the clipboard and a pen. “I need you to fill out this New Resident form. It shouldn’t take too long, and once the paperwork is done, I will let the team know you’re ready to see them.”
He brought his brows together and stared at her. “What kind of team?”
She knew it wouldn’t be the kind he wanted. He would never again be part of the elite military teams who took on some of the most dangerous assignments in the world. Even if they could put him back together again, the military wouldn’t take him back. Just the facts of life.
In a gentle voice, she said, “Your medical team.” She walked over and hit the buttons on the bed to raise him higher so he could write.
“Oh.” His shoulders shook slightly, but he picked up the pen and looked at the paperwork. He went to the first page. She waited—she’d learned long ago that the best way to get the paperwork completed was to not give anybody the option of avoiding doing it.
When he was done, he reached out, returning the clipboard to her. She motioned toward it. “Turn it over. There’s a second page.”
“Of course there is.” With a frown, he slowly made his way through the second set of questions. At the end, he signed his name and held it out again. She took the clipboard, noticing he didn’t offer the pen.
“Do you want a notebook and a pen to keep here?”
He shook his head. “A couple should have arrived with my bags.”
“Good,” she said cheerfully. “But, if you happen to need more, let me know, and I can grab one for you.” As she headed toward the door, she said, “Lunch will be in two hours, but coffee is being served in the communal room that George showed you earlier. The wheelchair is yours to use wh
ile you’re here, or crutches are in the closet, if you’d prefer.” At the doorway, she turned to look at him. She motioned with her arm. “Take a left from here for the communal room. Feel free to explore, but please do not leave the main floor. As soon as I get all the paperwork together, I will let the team know you’re ready.”
Then she left him to his own space and his grim dark thoughts. He had no idea how lucky he was. Hathaway House operated at full capacity at all times with a long waiting list ahead. The donation hadn’t been an outright secret, but a note said that the donor preferred to keep his identity under wraps for the moment. She’d do her best to keep it that way.
The same donor had helped several other people, but dozens more were in need. The center did do some pro bono work, but they still had to pay the bills, so only four patients were cared for free of charge and in rotation. As soon as one healed and went home, they went through their files and invited the next candidate to join them. So far the system had worked well.
The last thing she wanted was for Aaron to feel like he was accepting charity. According to his file, his pride was only second in size to his stubbornness. He was a warrior, but warriors also made the worst patients.
Hopefully she was up for the challenge.
Chapter 2
A short while later, Dani returned to Aaron’s room. “The paperwork’s out of the way.” She flashed her brightest, most cheerful smile. “How do you feel now?”
Aaron gave her a shuttered look but answered politely, “I’m fine. Just a little tired after the trip.”
She nodded in understanding. “Traveling is stressful. The position you have to sit in often strains your type of injury. Still, you’re here now, and once you’ve had a chance to rest, we can get started on your medical treatment.”
Dani pulled up a chair and sat down beside him. “I have a list of your medical team, each of whom you’ll meet this afternoon. Everybody will make a point of stopping by to talk to you about the treatments and evaluations that might need to be done.” She handed him the sheet from her clipboard. “In preparation for your arrival, the team met to discuss your case.”