Iain
Dale Mayer
Iain
Hathaway House, Book 9
Dale Mayer
Books in This Series:
Aaron, Book 1
Brock, Book 2
Cole, Book 3
Denton, Book 4
Elliot, Book 5
Finn, Book 6
Gregory, Book 7
Heath, Book 8
Iain, Book 9
Jaden, Book 10
Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
About This Book
Prologue
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
Epilogue
About Jaden
Author’s Note
Complimentary Download
About the Author
Copyright Page
About This Book
Welcome to Hathaway House. Rehab Center. Safe Haven. Second chance at life and love.
Getting accepted to Hathaway House is the new start Iain MacLeod has been waiting for. His old VA center has put him on the road to recovery, but he’s nowhere near where he wants to be. Much work remains to be done, and Iain is determined to do what’s necessary to get back to full power. But he has hit the limit of his current professionals’ abilities. He needs a new team. New eyes. New methods. He can only hope that Hathaway House has what he needs to keep moving forward.
Robin Carruthers works in the veterinary clinic at Hathaway House. When she connects with Iain, she’s his biggest cheerleader and enjoys watching him take steps toward greater recovery. Until she realizes that, while Iain is growing in major ways, … she isn’t. When traumas from her past intrude on the present, and Robin is forced to confront issues of her own, she’s afraid she and Iain won’t find their way back to each other again …
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Prologue
The thing about change was it offered the chance for a new beginning. Iain MacLeod stared down at the acceptance letter and the rest of the papers that he had to fill out in order to make his transfer to Hathaway House happen. He took a slow and deep measured breath.
Everybody here knew him as a class clown, somebody who threw off the problems and stresses in his life without a care. Most looked at him sideways, wondering how he managed it. Only that was a facade. He knew he was at the end of his rope—that he couldn’t keep it up. He knew it was time for a change, and it could only happen if he left here and went where people didn’t know him. Didn’t have a preconceived idea of who he was, what he was capable of doing. A place where he could go and find the depths of his soul, find a way to live with the future as he had it right now.
Because it looked pretty shitty from where he sat. He didn’t want to hear any more about “probably never walk again” or “probably never be fully functioning in society again.” Just so many probablys that he didn’t even want to contemplate them.
He had both hands, and he had a sturdy back, and that was more than a lot of guys had. He was missing most of the calf on his left leg, but he still had the whole right leg. He’d taken an alternative route back to base and had driven over an IED. At least he’d been alone in the truck. So he was the only one who’d suffered. His leg had taken some of the worst of the damage. It was kind of shriveled and didn’t do so well, but that’s because he’d had a lot of muscle torn off it. He’d had surgeries to put new muscle back on, and, so far, it was unknown as to how well those would work. He roomed with three others, and he lived with hundreds more, all in the same nightmarish scenario that he was in. Everybody here was different, and everybody here was unique, and yet so much the same.
It hurt. All of it hurt. From his jarring life-or-death injury to the medical help to the drugs he took for the pain, but which brought other side effects to just living, sleeping, breathing, eating. It all hurt. Which was why humor had been his shield—something that might have fooled everybody else, but he knew it wasn’t fooling him.
He’d gone as far as he could with his class clown skills, staring in the mirror, seeing the joker, but then acknowledging the ultimate joke which life had thrown at him. Because now he knew, if he wanted to make anything out of his world, he had to cross that abyss and had to learn to live with the best that he had, which was what that last surgery had given him.
He needed physical rehab that went well past what he had access to here, and that was stupid. This was a VA hospital. He should have had the best of the best, but he knew from what he’d seen that he didn’t. At least not for himself. He knew from what he’d heard about Hathaway House that more was available there. He’d contacted several people who had been there and had come out 100 percent better. No, not perfect, not whole physically. But emotionally, spiritually and, yes, physically. All vastly improved. They’d all told him the same thing.
“Go. You won’t be disappointed.”
Well, Iain had applied. He’d taken that chance, and he’d put his John Doe on an application form, then sent it off. He hadn’t told anybody here, and, if he had, nobody would have been more surprised than him when he’d been accepted. Now, after more paperwork, more medical appointments, and probably a very painful transfer, then maybe he’d have a chance at a new life. Or at least a chance at living the life that he’d been given to date, as best as he could.
And really, was there more to anything in life than that?
Chapter 1
After many delays, medical appointments, measurements, and tests—more than he could even think about—Iain found himself heading toward the long driveway to Hathaway House. It wasn’t the suggested ambulance transfer, as he had a friend heading back to Dallas, so he’d hitched a ride. Big mistake. The trip had been excruciating. And he wasn’t at his destination yet. The VA hospital had strongly urged him not to do this, but, if he’d learned one thing in life, his stubbornness always got him what he wanted and usually with a kick in the ass to go with it.
His buddy looked at him. “You sure you want to do this?”
“We’re almost there,” Iain said quietly. The pain started at his back and hips. Then it filtered downward. His left leg, dear God, throbbed and burned. So did his right leg for that matter.
“You really didn’t want to take an ambulance, huh?”
Iain looked at Bruce. “Would you?”
“No,” Bruce said with half a smile. “I just didn’t want to see you suffer.”
“I don’t want to suffer either,” Iain said quietly, “but I didn’t have too many choices.”
“It’s a long road trip.”
“And I’ve spent most of it drugged out,” he said.
“The VA medics said that you would suffer for this and that it would put your healing back by weeks,” Bruce warned.
“Warning noted,” Iain said. “I still refuse to arrive in an ambulance.”
“You’re stubborn,” Bruce stated. When shortly thereafter he accidentally hit a pothole, it was all Iain could do to hold back his automatic moan of pain. He felt every muscle in his body tighten down, even as Bruce cried out, “Lord, I’m sorry. Hang on a minute.” He dropped his speed way down. “I wasn’t watching,” he said. Then he glanced at Iain. “Are you okay?”
Iain slowly let out his breath, feeling his back seize like he’d never felt it before. “I will be.”
“I knew this was a bad idea,” Bruce said. “No point in going to a new rehab center if you’re more damaged and broken than when you left the last one.”
&nb
sp; “I’ll be fine,” he said.
Bruce snorted. “And I’m done listening to that shit.”
Iain grinned. “You’re a good friend.”
“Well, I understood your request,” he said. “I just couldn’t see somebody who’s been through what you had been transferred by an ambulance.”
“Exactly,” he said. “And I know … pride goes before a fall, but no way … could I do that. It was just … too much. Just too much on top of … the rest,” he muttered, taking shallow inhales, breathing through his nose, trying to force his body to relax. But every few seconds he froze up, expecting another lunge, another bump, and another surge of agony through his body. With relief, his gaze caught on something ahead. He reached out and grabbed Bruce’s arm. “Stop for a moment.”
Slowing down and then finally braking on the shoulder of the road, Bruce frowned at him. “What’s up?”
And Iain pointed to Hathaway House in the distance. “I just wanted a moment to look. How often do you see something like that?” A huge estate-looking house had been built onto the hill, surrounded by green pastures, and beyond perfection in Iain’s opinion.
Bruce looked at it and said, “I wish we could get out and walk around for a little bit,” he said. “But I don’t think that’s a good idea for you, is it?”
“No,” Iain said. “Definitely not.” He looked at the road ahead. “It’s gravel, but it’s been well-graded, nicely packed, and obviously they’ve done a fair bit of maintenance.”
“It was my fault earlier. I hit that pothole,” Bruce admitted. “Like I said, I wasn’t paying attention. I figured we were home free, and I eased up my guard.”
“It’s not your fault,” Iain said and continued to stare at the huge white building ahead of him. “It’s such an odd look, one-third apartment building, one-third institution, and another one-third thrown in of an old Victorian estate.” He sighed, grimacing at the pain, hoping his buddy didn’t see that.
Bruce pointed to the pastures all around. “Look at the pastures. Looks a bit like Kentucky, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, it does,” Iain said with a smile. He caught sight of the horses in the pasture. “I know I heard about animals being here too,” he said, “but I didn’t realize …”
“Horses. Wow,” Bruce said, “that’ll make your heart happy.”
“It will,” Iain said, “if I get a chance to even see them close up.”
“Well, we’ll find out soon,” Bruce said. “You ready to take this last step?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I so am. It might be painful, and it might not be the way I thought it would work out, but I really need this change.”
“Are you making it a new beginning?”
Iain smiled. “You know me too well.”
“I know you were the best at making the worst situations more livable,” he said. “I’ve been out in the trenches with you, seen you at work, cheering up the others or just distracting us from the horrors we lived through. I’ve been out doing routine training with you in the Middle East, near our temporary base, when we got caught in the middle of attacks, and I’ve seen how you somehow turned a crap deal into something that smelled like roses.”
“I don’t know about the roses part,” Iain said with a slow smile, “but I know that I was darn glad not to be alone at those times. Thanks for sticking by me.”
Bruce looked over, reached across gently, and the two gripped hands, a static handshake of sorts. “You can do this,” he said.
“I know,” Iain said. Then he took a deep breath. “Let’s go. Let’s get to this next stage of my life and whatever it’ll bring.”
“Stop thinking that your life is shit. It doesn’t have to be. I know that Gloria walked away from your engagement because of this, but all women are not like that.”
“I’m trying not to think about it,” he said, “but her words are a little hard to forget.”
“She had no right to say that crap,” Bruce said. “You know what? Thinking of her just now, what she did to you? What she truly is?”
“Don’t bother,” Iain said. “I’ve called her worse in my mind already. But she’s right about some things. I’m not whole. I’m not 100 percent, and she’s in prime breeding condition, looking for a family and somebody to be there for her. I’m hardly a good prospect anymore.”
“And that’s just bull,” Bruce said. “If I had five minutes with that woman …”
“You’d have sat there and stared at her in shock and not said a word,” Iain said, chuckling. “Because she would have shocked the shit out of you, just like she did me. Plus, that’s who you are. You’d never raise a hand to a woman any more than I would. And you know yourself that, once those nasty words leave your lips, they can never be unsaid.”
“I know,” Bruce said. “But, she’s a piece of work.” When Iain didn’t respond, Bruce added, “And thankfully she’s somebody else’s problem. You deserve better. And Gloria had to leave your life to make room for that other woman, that better woman, that woman who was meant for you, to enter your life.”
Iain sighed, gave a one-armed shrug. “Not my focus now. It’s all about the rehab here.”
Bruce sighed too but shot a smile his buddy’s way.
They drove up the wide driveway, a massive parking lot off to one side. Bruce looked at it and said, “I’ll pull up to that ramp at the front entrance, and we’ll help you get up there. And then I’ll come around and park.”
“I’ll be in the wheelchair anyway,” Iain said, “so how about you just park your truck, and we’ll go from there.”
Bruce nodded and pulled into a parking lot not too far away. He turned off the engine and looked at his buddy and said, “I’ll get the wheelchair.”
“You do that,” Iain said. “If I was feeling better, I’d hop out and try to make my way to the back of the truck, but today …” He shook his head. “No, I’m not quite ready to admit this was a nasty mistake, but I am ready to accept some help.”
“We all need assistance sometimes,” Bruce said cheerfully. He got out, shut his driver’s door, and walked to the back. He lifted the latch to the back of the truck and then dropped the tailgate. He pulled out the wheelchair and set it up.
Iain, in the meantime, shifted slowly in the front passenger seat, opened up his side door, and, with great care, made his way so he stood on the pavement. He grabbed onto the door to steady himself. He didn’t have the energy to shut it. Pretty sad state of affairs.
He took a moment to focus on gathering his breath. Taking in three slow breaths, trying to get deeper each time, he calmed his racing heart and slowly let his body untense. As much as it would right now anyway. He turned, concealing the shudders running up and down his spine, knowing the painkillers had worn off hours ago. He’d been so sure he’d be okay during this trip. After all, how different would the ambulance ride be from traveling by passenger truck?
Talk about how the mighty had fallen. He took a moment, leaning against the door and just closing his eyes, taking several more deep breaths. When he could, he opened the rear side door and pulled out his bags. He dropped them on the ground, knowing he couldn’t carry them anyway. He gingerly shut that door, grabbed his sunglasses from his collar, put them over his eyes, concealing the agony that resided there, and stiffened his spine.
As Bruce pushed the wheelchair toward him, the two men looked at each other. “I know this might not be the best time,” Iain said, “but I really do appreciate that you’ve been there for me over all these years.”
Bruce glared at him. “Enough of that talk. We’re friends. Best friends. That’s what best friends do.”
Iain didn’t argue, but he knew better. He’d seen many, many other men lose contact with friends and family because nobody could handle the condition they were in. He’d been blessed with Bruce. “If you want to believe that,” Iain said, “I’ll accept it. But I know the truth. You’ve gone over and above many, many times, and it’s made me that much better a person.”
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br /> Bruce, choking back tears, walked past his buddy and closed the front passenger door. He snagged up the two bags, tossed the big duffel over his shoulder, then plunked the other one gently in Iain’s lap and said, “Let’s go, buddy.”
“Yeah,” Iain said. “I wish I just knew to what.”
“Will you be the clown here?”
“No,” Iain said. “I need to walk away from that.”
“You always were the darndest chameleon,” Bruce said quietly. “Why the change now?”
“Because I know that something more important needs to happen here, and superficial is one thing, but I can’t do that anymore. The last surgeon says the right leg is as good as it’ll get. So, no more time for a facade. It’s time to get real. This is all about dealing with who I am right now. It’s one of the reasons I had to leave that place, as no one back there would understand the change in me or the change in what I had to do next.”
“You could have done this there,” Bruce muttered. “You didn’t give them a chance.”
“Maybe I could have, but I felt drawn to this place, so I’m willing to take the chance.”
“I think that’s why a lot of your buddies don’t make the change,” he said. “That’s why the attendance back there is so heavy. They get sucked into the same mind-set. The this is all there is mentality. It’s because people are afraid to change.”
“I’ve never been afraid of change,” Iain muttered, “but I can’t say I’m terribly enthralled with dealing with this one. This one came as a shock. Nobody chooses these kinds of monumental changes. And it takes so long just to recover enough from the last surgery to endure the next horrific surgery, which knocks you back on your ass in that hospital bed. It’s a long process, and you have to remain strong throughout it all.
“And I’m probably midway in with my rehab, and I’ve been struggling to get through each day for the past eight months as it is. I expect it’ll be another eight months here. That’s why it sucks so bad when others abandon guys like me because they can’t deal with the aftermath. Yet me and the others? We have no choice but to deal with the matter.” He looked down at his right leg, the stronger of the two. The whole one of the two.
