Aaron: A Hathaway House Heartwarming Romance Read online

  In fact, she was more than a beautiful dog. She’d make an awesome therapy dog. But Dani’d have to think that concept over. A dog like Helga required a lot of space. Here she would certainly have room for Helga, but Dani couldn’t keep taking on every injured animal out there. There were months when she couldn’t cover the bills as it were. Still, it was something to consider if Helga had the same effect on patients as she just had on Aaron. With a gentle woof, Helga got down and then sprawled to the floor, stretching out at their feet.

  “Do you want to stay down here for a bit longer, or do you want to go back upstairs?” she asked Aaron.

  He turned the wheelchair around with a last look at Helga and said, “Let’s go back upstairs.”

  As he maneuvered to the doors leading to the elevator, she said, “You’re welcome to return and visit anytime. Just be aware that, on certain days, the place can be frenzied, depending on what surgeries are scheduled.”

  “I’d like to come back down.”

  “Have you worked with animals before?”

  “I wanted to be a veterinarian, before I went into the military.”

  “Oh, wow.” She felt a jolt at that news but couldn’t exactly say why. Levi hadn’t mentioned it. Then again he might not know. “I think the animals missed out on something then, during all the years you were in the military.”

  He shrugged. “Only so many things one person can do with his life.”

  “Only so many things one person can do with his life at one time,” she corrected. “You have a whole new future ahead of you. You get to choose what to do now.”

  She hadn’t meant the last line to come out sounding a bit too blunt, but running a place like this made it hard for her to not interfere.

  Still her words had an effect, and he was silent all the way back to his room. Once inside, he wheeled himself straight to his bed as she stood hesitantly in his doorway. She knew she should ask if he needed help but had a feeling he would be okay. From the stiff look of his back and the blank look on his face, she figured she was in the way now.

  “Okay, I’ll leave you for the evening then,” she said, backing out. “If you have any trouble getting in and out of bed, or need anything else for the rest of the evening, make sure you call somebody, please.” She turned and walked out. No response came from him. No goodbye, no thank you, nothing. Just silence.

  She shrugged. Well, she’d take every little bit of progress that she got. The rest would take time.

  How many times would people imply that they knew what was good for him, when they obviously didn’t?

  He’d been through every damned medical test known to man, so why was he still sitting here in the same place three months later? And all for what? To sit here for another three months and have nothing happen? The doctors didn’t know why he wasn’t progressing.

  But he’d seen Helga down there. She’d progressed faster than he had. Why the hell was that? Even though she’d been beaten and hurt and abused, she still allowed herself to trust people. Maybe she’d learned to trust again while she was here. Maybe being here, in this place, had helped her to heal emotionally. And, as a result, had that emotional healing allowed her to heal physically? Or maybe she’d never lost her sense of trust at all.

  He’d certainly done a lot of reading on the subject, and he knew that psychological healing didn’t just happen on one level. It had to happen on multiple levels for maximum progress. Well, he’d certainly stalled, and he knew a lot of that had to do with his feelings of betrayal and his lack of trust.

  He hadn’t gotten his injuries in an enemy skirmish. It would have been bad enough if he had, but this was way worse. No, it was an act of betrayal. He was pretty damn sure Cain had done the unthinkable and gone over to the other side. For money. Only Aaron couldn’t prove it.

  That made it even worse. He’d loved being in the military, loved being a SEAL, loved being part of something bigger, making a difference in the world. To be one of the best. An honorable profession. Honor was supposed to be in this world. Among his unit. Everyone should follow an honor code, but especially those who fought for their country—particularly a SEAL.

  Instead his friend—his best friend—Cain, had gone rogue on a mission. He’d been offered a ton of money to turn his back on his friends, and he’d taken it. He’d blown up the camp himself. Two men dead. Two escaped major physical injury. Cain had disappeared, and then there was Aaron—who couldn’t help, who just lay there, fighting the grief for his friends as they’d died in front of him. He had rejoiced for his other friends who, although scarred emotionally by what had happened, could live full healthy physical lives. In fact, they remained in the unit, still fighting the good fight.

  But not him. He was caught in between. In no-man’s land. He couldn’t return to the military. At this point, he couldn’t see himself living an aggressively physical life in any way. Yet neither was he dead like his other friends. Unless dead inside counted.

  Of course no one understood what bothered him so badly. That anger that consumed him. An anger that never went away. He’d killed several people, all enemies, but the betrayal of his best friend still ate at him. How could Cain have done this to his unit? They were all good men. How did one turn his back on people and say, “Screw it?” And blow them all up?

  He stared down at his hands as they slowly fisted once again. He worked on his breathing, trying to regulate it before rage overwhelmed him. An anger-management issue, the doctors had called it. A refusal to accept his current circumstances. He’d seen shrinks, but he hadn’t opened up. How could he?

  No one believed him.

  He’d seen Cain’s laughing face as he had pushed the remote on the detonator. A detonator that Aaron hadn’t realized was in his buddy’s hand until it was too late. Even then, he wouldn’t have believed it was rigged to blow. Who would? They were at war—but not with each other.

  Then it was too late. As the ground around him exploded, he’d realized the truth. Only Cain had disappeared. Forever. As far as the military was concerned, he was classified as missing in action. Aaron had tried to tell the brass what had happened until he was blue in the face. Nobody listened. Maybe they were listening on the sly, but publicly there would never be that acknowledgment. It didn’t happen. SEALs didn’t go rogue. There was no such thing as a mole inside a SEAL unit.

  Aaron didn’t give a damn what they called it. He just wanted somebody to say he’d spoken the truth. Then he wanted somebody to hunt down and kill that asshole Cain. David and Mark did not deserve to die. Both damned good men. That Cain could’ve done that to his SEAL brothers defied logic. It made Aaron look twice at everybody he thought he knew, as if they were all strangers. Maybe many of them were—maybe they were ready to turn around and stab him in the back.

  So, although he’d spoken to several shrinks, he hadn’t given them all of his festering anger because they were all military too. After he had been branded a liar, it was hard to go backward. Every time they didn’t believe him was like being called a liar all over again. That ate at him too. He’d written several letters to the commander, hoping somebody would listen to him, but the responses he’d received were lukewarm, and they just wished him a speedy recovery.

  Basically they figured he was just dealing with sour grapes. Maybe he was. But it was more than just his inability to get off this bed and hunt down that asshole who put him here. For David and Mark’s sake, and for his own. Stephen and Charlie had moved on with their lives. They’d survived, and Aaron wasn’t involved with them anymore. They hadn’t seen what had happened—they hadn’t seen Cain’s face.

  In fact, it was worse because they’d figured Aaron had caused the bomb to blow. They said that he’d been careless and that he’d caused an accident by not looking after the equipment properly. That Cain had gotten away with this and that Aaron should be branded as the responsible party was just too much to let go of.

  That brought his mind back to Helga. Maybe if he was a dumb dog, then he
could forget, but he wasn’t. He was a man caught twisting in a web of lies and a grief that ate at him. He leaned back on his bed and slowly breathed out. In a low voice, he muttered, “Goddammit. I will avenge those deaths.”

  “Will avenging those deaths make you any happier?”

  He froze. Damn. He forgot he was almost never alone anymore. Ever since the accident, orderlies, nurses, or doctors were around. Those well-meaning folks who had good intentions for his health. He rolled his head sideways and glared at Dani. “You can leave now,” he said pointedly.

  She smiled. “Of course I can. So can you.” She turned and walked out.

  Instantly he felt like a heel. He wasn’t angry at her. In fact she was one of the nicest people he’d seen in a long time—and sexy as hell. Of course now he looked like an angry, vengeful asshole. That wasn’t what he meant either, but, as he lay here, he’d realized he couldn’t let it go. He sat up and wondered about going after her. It was evening. It was late. Surely she didn’t live in the center by herself, did she? He glanced down at the phone she’d left beside him, picked it up, and pressed her contact name, not allowing himself to second-guess his actions.

  As soon as she answered, he blurted out, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take out my anger on you.”

  Her light laughter warmed his heart. “That’s fine, but you do need to work on forgiveness and letting go. I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you how it hinders your healing.”

  “No, you aren’t.” He sighed, still very irate at himself and at the world in general. “The trouble is, just because people say I should forgive, doesn’t mean they give any solid instructions about how to make that happen. When you’re angry, when you’re full of rage, not even at the circumstances but at somebody specifically that you can’t even talk to, to clear things up …” He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “Anyway, I’m sorry.” He quickly hung up the phone. He was a fool to call. A fool to even apologize. He was here to deal with his shit. She had to be used to it. He just hadn’t wanted to be yet another asshole in her day.

  Chapter 5

  The two siblings, Levi and Aaron, possessed more testosterone than a whole naval ship full of men. Dani had never understood how that was possible. She had no siblings, but her father wasn’t full of conflict, although he was a big gruff, strong male presence. He wasn’t aggressive or looking for confrontation. So she’d grown up not expecting that. Yet, whenever she’d seen the two brothers together, they’d almost frightened her with their intensity.

  Levi had always been quick to reassure her that she was never in any danger. That this went on all the time. Well, that might be, but it wasn’t comfortable for her. Now that she saw Aaron in his present shape, she wondered if she should mention something about knowing him. But it had been a long time ago, and she didn’t want to bring up any possible connection to Levi. Because he didn’t want Aaron to know who was paying for his treatment. She smiled. It was an interesting and heartwarming development in their relationship, but, at the same time, it was complicated. She sighed. There were always complications.

  Still, it was nighttime, and a whole new day awaited tomorrow. Back home, she undressed and got ready for bed. She needed a good night’s sleep. They’d had the odd break-in over the last few years but nothing major. They had installed a new security system, but she was still getting used to it. Every once in a while the alarms went off and woke her up. A few days ago, the alarm had gone off several times. She woke up to the slightest sounds now, waiting to see what had bothered her.

  Hopefully tonight she’d sleep all the way through.

  When her alarm woke her at six, Dani yawned and stretched, feeling pleased. A whole night’s sleep for herself, where she hadn’t woken up once. So a good night at the center too. She checked her phone just in case, but Aaron’s was the last call.

  It was early enough that she could get out for an hour on her own. She grinned. She would slip out for a horseback ride. She dressed quickly and headed to the stables. She’d take out Sable, a younger mare, who had been with her for years. The horse had been abused and, as a result, was often afraid of men and of being closed in. Her stall was always open to the field behind. That way she could come and go as she wanted.

  Dani threw a western saddle on her and cinched it up. Instead of a bit in the horse’s mouth, she placed a bosal over her nose and draped the reins across her neck. She led Sable out to the sunshine, where Dani hopped on with the ease of long years of practice. Calling out to Midnight to join them, she led the way to the back fields. They had several hundred acres here, and the ranch backed up to thousands more of open range.

  If she did nothing more than ride the fence line, looking for potential problems, it would make her happy. The sun was up, the heat was down, and fresh air blew gently across the fields. It was hard not to think of a more perfect day. With Midnight keeping pace at her side, they followed the fence line. Dani was thankful it was in good shape.

  However, she realized it had been a while since she’d had the farrier in to trim hooves. All the animals needed regular maintenance too. A good one was just down the road who often did the work pro bono. An added blessing. She’d have to remember to give him a call when she got back.

  Only, by the time she’d finished her ride, her phone rang, and when she finally made it to the center, she discovered that chaos reigned. One patient was set to leave, and his ride hadn’t arrived. Another patient was transferring in, and he’d come in several hours early. His room wasn’t ready because the other patient hadn’t left. She smiled at everyone and did her best to ease the situation. She called for help.

  “We’ll get this sorted out immediately,” she said in her best calm administrator’s voice. “In the meantime, let’s get everybody settled as best as we can.”

  She took charge and led the new arrival to the deck and had a fresh cup of coffee brought to him. Her father was handy, so she grabbed him and told him to visit. By the time she’d gotten the room cleaned out, the departing patient was settled on a different part of the deck, waiting until his ride showed up. Another quick sort out done, and the new patient was settled in his room too. With a beaming smile, she walked through the place into her office, closed the door and exhaled loudly. “Oh, thank God.”

  These mornings when unexpected things happened were challenging, but they were usual occurrences in centers like this. They had over seventy part-time and full-time staff members, and sometimes life just happened. Sometimes in a good way. Sometimes in a bad way.

  She sat down at her desk and stared at the flashing light on her telephone. With a sigh, she picked up a pen and notepad, and ran through her voicemail messages. After that, she checked her email and discovered dozens of new messages requiring immediate responses. Rubbing her temple, she realized it would be one of those days.

  She got up, poured some coffee and then did a quick walk around to see how Aaron was doing—a better way to start her day than all the pressing emails and phone calls. She stopped at his room. The door was shut, so she gave a quick knock. “Aaron, it’s Dani. How are you doing this morning?”

  No answer. She frowned. Given the security and privacy rules they had established, along with common courtesy, she could hardly walk in on him. Instead, she continued on. She quickly did the rounds, stopping in and visiting with several people in need of a boost. Impulsively she slipped downstairs and found Helga in the middle of the room in front of her adoring audience, with Aaron on the floor with her. She stopped in the open doorway and smiled. This was better than she could’ve hoped for. They were fitting Helga with a new cup for her stump, but she wasn’t interested. She kept kicking it free. The stump had healed enough on one side, but she’d had an accident and had bruised up the other side pretty good. Dani walked over and reached down to cuddle Helga’s head, helping to calm her while the men fitted her new back leg.

  “Good timing.” Stan, the vet, turned to look at her with a big smile.

  She glanc
ed over at Aaron and smiled. He reached up and stroked the big dog across the belly. “She’s a beautiful dog.”

  Stan laughed. “She’s got the best personality, but she’s awfully big to push around when she doesn’t want to do something.”

  “So we make sure the right thing to do is easy, and the wrong thing is difficult,” Dani said with a grin. That was a familiar phrase of her father’s, one that an old cowboy had taught him.

  “Isn’t that the truth?” They finally buckled on the leg, and then they helped Helga onto her feet. They watched as she walked awkwardly around the room, adapting to the new prosthesis. Stan looked over at Dani. “We don’t usually see you around here in the morning.”

  “You shouldn’t be seeing me now either,” she said with a laugh. “My email inbox is full. My voicemail is overloaded, and my to-do list is out the door.” Her grin widened. “Hence I’m hiding.”

  The two men grinned at her. She loved that smile of Aaron’s, with just a hint of likeness to his big brother’s. She had never really seen it before. “You look so much like your brother right now.” The words slipped out before she could stop them.

  His smile fell away, and he stared at her. In a quiet voice, he said, “I didn’t think you remembered me.”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she scrambled to cover up her slip. “Not remember you? How is that possible?” She forced a wicked grin. “The two of you are very memorable.”

  She watched the flush of pink staining his neck and smiled.

  To give him a moment, she turned her gaze at Stan, who had been watching the exchange with interest. “I knew Aaron when he and his brother were still living together, years ago. We were all a whole lot younger then.”

  “We were,” Stan said. He reached up to pat the salt-and-pepper hair on his head and added, “Still not longing to go back there for anything. I’m quite happy with this stage of life right now.”

  He returned his attention to Helga and said, “I’ll take her out back to one of the runs and see how she does on her own, when we’re not all around to give her this much attention.”