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Cole
Hathaway House, Book 3
Dale Mayer
Books in This Series:
Aaron, Book 1
Brock, Book 2
Cole, Book 3
Denton, Book 4
Elliot, Book 5
Finn, Book 6
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
Chapter 17
Epilogue
About Denton
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.
When Navy SEAL Cole Muster entered Hathaway House weeks ago, he was doing well. His meds were under control; his recovery was progressing at a safe rate, and he was getting better every day. But, left to his own devices, Cole pushed himself too hard and took himself off his medication—and ended up causing himself harm and earned himself time in a hospital. Now he’s returned, hoping that Hathaway House can get him back on track one more time.
RN Sandra Denver feels responsible for what happened to Cole. She was his nurse and should have realized that he wasn’t ready to leave Hathaway House. His setback was her fault, or at least she could have prevented it, if she’d made sure he was taking those meds she gave him daily. Now that he’s back, she’s finding it hard to trust not just him but herself. And she understands, when Cole has a hard time trusting himself too, it won’t make his recovery any easier.
For Cole’s sake, Sandra must help him overcome his stumbling blocks as well as her own. With any luck, they’ll find a second chance at recovery, for both of them, at Hathaway House.
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Chapter 1
Cole Muster leaned against the headrest of his hospital bed at Hathaway House and stared out the window. Acres and acres of verdant green pastures cordoned off with white fencing met his gaze. He couldn’t imagine how many acres were here, but he assumed at least forty, and that meant the property alone had cost a ton of money. Several horses grazed nearby, and even a goat bounced through the various paddocks. Outside his window was a stunning picture. After being in a sterile city hospital room for too long, this was a luxury.
A luxury he’d lost—temporarily anyway. A luxury he wouldn’t take for granted again.
He realized now how much he’d been fighting to get back here before he nearly lost it all. That he was given one more chance brought a sense of relief almost overwhelming in its intensity.
He understood what the doctors here had said about his setback. Something about too much stress, a swelling bladder, too much exertion, sleeplessness due to the onset of PTSD and the abrupt cessation of his meds. They didn’t even mention his initial injuries. Then they did tests, inserting catheters and whatnot, all over again.
And just like that, he was back at that city hospital, almost in tears when he woke up there. He’d been terrified he’d lost his one chance at Hathaway House. Of attempting that miracle recovery he’d heard about from friends—which he so desperately wanted for himself.
Depressed was too minor a word for his mood—devastated was more appropriate. The doctors had promised he could return to Hathaway as soon as he stabilized. At the time he hadn’t believed them, but now as he looked around his bright, cheerful cream-colored walls and tiled floor, with that beautiful expanse of horse pasture outside the window, he believed. And he’d do anything to stay. He’d only been here for a couple hours, but he just wanted to lie in bed and rest, regroup after his travels and remind himself never to take this place for granted again.
Yet, he was petrified to do too much and end up in the hospital a third time, essentially banning him from Hathaway House. Overdoing it was what had done him in the last time. He’d been so determined to meet up with Brock again, to set some serious goals, to make a life for himself that Cole thought he had to give it his all and do as well as his friend had, or he’d lose the prize—getting his health and strength back and losing this damn wheelchair.
He had been so cocky and so sure of himself that he had chosen not to take several of his medications and had worked to exhaustion with disastrous results. The cumulative effects had spiraled quickly, his body shutting down various vital functions, resulting in an ambulance ride to the hospital.
He wouldn’t make that costly mistake again. As someone who’d survived BUD/s training and spent six years as a SEAL, Cole knew exactly how damaging mistakes could be. He hadn’t been ready to walk away from his military career, but being in a truck when a landmine blew up was a hell of an exit strategy. He’d been flung free and then speckled with shrapnel. He’d lost the lower half of his left leg. After that, infection set in and required several more surgeries. Now he had an outrageous-looking purple-and-red stump that, so far, refused to accept any weight on it.
He looked forward to increased mobility and knew that eventually enough scar tissue would form so he could use a prosthetic limb, but right now it wasn’t an option. He had also taken a hit with all the bits of shrapnel in his back and shoulder, plus his landing had broken his hip. Thankfully his sciatic nerve, although bruised, hadn’t been badly affected. But it’d been painful as hell.
Recovery was a bitch, but that was why he was here—to strengthen his back and to get his hip fully functional again. Then, of course, there was his leg and shoulder. Crutches worked but not for very long and not for very far, yet he felt like using the wheelchair was giving in, even though it was easier on him.
Cole had always had more than his fair share of stubbornness. But he also had more than his fair share of fear, and that still bothered him because one of his biggest fears facing him now concerned his future. He had no idea what he would do from here on out. He could probably return to the military and take a desk job. But once you’d been at the top, office work wasn’t really an option. He had several friends who’d left the service to work at private security companies, but they weren’t a busted-up, beat-up, old piece of shit like he was. Every time he thought about holding down a job or of eventually being independent, his mind shut off, and his fear took over.
Still in denial mode, he couldn’t face it all yet.
He’d had hopes and dreams growing up, but they had all been focused on the military. And he’d worked steadily to make that happen. Now he had no idea what to do for a second career. The thought made his gut bubble with acid.
He took a deep, ragged breath. Time to get this show on the road. As his mind took that leap, he heard footsteps in the hallway. Sure enough, they stopped at his door, and then there was a light rap.
“Good morning, Cole.”
He smiled at Dani, the manager of Hathaway, who’d been nothing but gracious regarding his ultimate failure at his first launch. What if his second was just as bad?
He tried to drop that kind of thinking, sitting up straighter, and smiled at
her even more brightly.
She walked in and studied him.
He could feel this most critical test—the assessment of his health. She might not be a doctor, but she was hell on wheels as a first-alert system.
“Glad to see you’re awake, Cole, after your transfer here. It’s almost lunchtime. Good timing on your part,” she said with a big grin. “I believe the chefs are doing a Greek-themed meal today.”
“That sounds wonderful. I am pretty hungry,” he admitted.
“That’s a good sign.” She lifted her tablet and jotted some notes.
Curiosity flared in him. He knew he wasn’t allowed to see what she wrote, but that didn’t stop him from wanting to know. Besides, notes would be a part of life here. They would all keep track of his condition, including her.
“Your team will drop by this afternoon,” she said with another smile. “We’ll take this morning as a complete reboot.”
He brightened. “I was hoping you’d say something like that,” he confessed. “I felt quite the fool for having made a mess of my first time here.”
“Don’t feel like a fool about anything. But please remember, it’s very important that you follow your plan exactly. You do have medications, and you do have exercises, and you do have very important meetings to attend.” She patted his hand gently. “If you are concerned about anything, then first and foremost, discuss those issues with your team.”
Abashed, he nodded again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble last time. I thought I was doing so well, and I got cocky.”
“It’s nice to see you were feeling so positive and enthusiastic,” Dani said, “but it’s very important that you don’t do too much, too fast. Your rehab plan is put in place for a reason. You need to trust your team to know what’s best for you.”
He winced. This was probably the first of many recriminations he would have leveled at him, especially once his team arrived. “I’ve learned my lesson.” He turned to stare out the window. “I promise it won’t happen again.”
“Good. So, a few changes have been made in your team because of some staff shifts and patient discharges, not because of what happened earlier.” She handed him a sheet of paper. “These are your team members. Once again, everybody will stop by this afternoon and say hi. Not until after lunch though. If you have any questions, you can talk to them or me.”
Once more she studied him for a long moment. “I can get someone to take you out in a little bit. But not on your own power today.”
“Good.” He smiled at her look of surprise. This was the new him. Careful. Someone who listened to instructions and his body. “I am tired. I’m not sure my legs feel up to it.” He glanced around the room. “If I can’t get around, do I call for somebody, or should I get into the wheelchair on my own?”
“Today, somebody’ll help you.”
He laughed. “Fair enough.” He glanced at his watch. “Do you think I could text Brock and ask to meet him today?”
She beamed a beautiful, bright smile. “He would like that.” She turned and made her way to the door. “Sit tight. I’ll send somebody in right away.”
Sandra Denver carried her now-empty medication tray back to the pharmacy. She carefully locked up the tray as she did every time. She took one last look around the room, then pocketed her keys. It was almost lunchtime. So far, the morning had been routine. It wouldn’t stay that way though.
Cole was back. That was enough to send butterflies flitting through her stomach. Initially she had been attracted to the man, but she was also furious at him. She knew she shouldn’t take it personally. If he hadn’t wanted to take his medications, then that was his right. He was a legally consenting adult.
But he’d signed up to follow the programs here.
She was also following his doctor’s orders. She’d been the one to give Cole the medications and to trust he would take them. When he hadn’t done so, without letting everyone know, she’d felt responsible.
Even now, this burning red ball of rage was in her. She’d received a verbal upbraiding from the doctor, and she’d taken it as she did everything—with a stoic expression and an apology. Afterward an unknowing innocence had disappeared. Up until then, it had never occurred to her that people here might hide something from her, like not taking their medications. But from now on, no way could she be complacent about her patients’ actions.
Since that day, when Cole had been rushed to the hospital, she took an extra five minutes with each patient, ensuring all their medications were completely swallowed before she left the room. Many of them objected. Quite possibly she should have been double-checking all the time, but people came here voluntarily and signed up and paid big money for their recovery. All they had to do to make a change in their medications was talk to their doctor. She wasn’t in charge of that.
As she walked into the main hallway, she caught sight of Dani coming toward her. “Good morning, Dani.”
“Morning, Sandra.” Dani tilted her head toward the dining room. “On your way to lunch?”
Sandra nodded. “That’s exactly where I was heading. I’m looking forward to the souvlaki and whatever else the kitchen made today. The last time we had Greek food,” she said, “you had to get there fast before it was all gone.”
“Well, I believe the chefs are doubling the amount today,” Dani said. “But you’re right. He who is late gets only leftovers.” She turned and looked down the hall. “Would you mind helping Cole into the dining room? He’s planning on meeting Brock for lunch.”
Sandra stiffened and tried to cover her reaction. “Brock’s a great guy,” she said warmly. “I can do that.”
But something must have been in her voice because Dani turned suddenly and studied Sandra’s face. “Cole’s been a slightly disruptive presence since he arrived, but he’s trying to make this second transition as smooth as possible. If this is a problem, please let me know.”
Sandra would have to face him eventually—this would be a relatively easy way to break the ice. She shook her head and forced a smile. “I’m fine. I’ll go get him. I presume we’re taking the wheelchair?”
Dani nodded. “Yes. He’s not ready to walk with his crutches yet.”
With that, Dani continued toward the dining room. Sandra took a deep breath and turned resolutely in the direction of Cole’s room. He was damned lucky Dani had let him return. After that stupid stunt of his, Sandra would’ve shot his ass back to the VA hospital and left him there.
Chapter 2
Sandra approached Cole’s bedroom slowly. The door was open, which was a good sign. She knocked and stuck her head in. “Hey, Cole.”
Cole turned to look at her. He smiled. “Hey, Sandra.”
“You’re looking better.”
He grimaced. “Be hard not to, considering the shape I left this place in the last time.”
“Not taking your medicine will do that to you.” She couldn’t resist saying that. His shamefaced look made her realize she’d been hanging on to something he probably wasn’t. Everyone always thought they knew better. It was something she dealt with daily. “I met Dani in the hallway. She asked if I’d make sure you meet up with Brock for lunch.”
He straightened, almost as if insulted. “I’m sure I can get there on my own.”
“I’m sure you could too. But not today. It’s very important you start off as slow as you can.” She waited. “So is that a yes or a no?”
He nodded. She guided the wheelchair to his bedside and watched as he slid to the floor on his good leg, grabbed the wheelchair arms and shifted his body into the seat. She walked around to the front and adjusted the footrest for his leg.
“You may want this,” she said, grabbing his lap blanket and throwing it onto his lap.
He tossed the blanket back to the bed. “I hate the blanket. It always makes me feel like an invalid.”
She sighed. “In that case, the blanket can stay here, but if you get cold …” She let her voice trail off in warning.
“Remember, no lack of communication of any kind this time, please.” She pushed him toward the door.
Normally he’d be strong enough to wheel himself to the buffet, but they would all be watching him closely for the next couple weeks. It was incredibly easy to overexert, particularly when accommodating the loss of his lower leg. Plus, his body was still dealing with the surgical aftermath from his most recent time in the hospital. His medications had also been increased, and he tired easily.
She didn’t want him to be so exhausted he couldn’t get back to his room. He was stubborn enough that he wouldn’t ask for help and would do it alone anyway. She’d seen pigheadedness in all its forms here, and it usually came from the men. Something about the male ego didn’t like asking for help. She could understand that, but sometimes egos had to be put in check.
“I’m ready for lunch myself,” she said. “I hear it’s Greek today.”
“I didn’t have a chance to try the food that much last time. My visit was so damn quick.”
“That’s too bad, because the food is great around here. They never skimp.”
“And for you guys too, right?” Cole craned his neck to look up at her. “The staff eats here also, don’t they?”
“Oh, absolutely, we do. It’s one of the perks of working here.”
“I imagine there are a lot of those. Brock told me about the pool, but I never made it there.”
“There’s the pool, the food, the horses and living accommodations for those of us who might need them. Yes, there are a lot of advantages to working here.”
He nodded. “I thought so. Is the environment always so happy? Everyone seems so upbeat all the time. That’s very unusual.”
“That’s because it’s a good place to be.” She pushed him through the entrance of the large dining area. “Did Brock tell you where he would meet you?”
“I never thought to ask. I forgot how big this room was.”