Rescuing Mylie (Tranquility Bay Ranch Book 3) Read online

  RESCUING

  MYLIE

  TRANQUILITY BAY RANCH BOOK 3

  LILY LONDON

  Copyright © 2020 by Lily London

  All Rights Reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners.

  CONTENTS

  Also By Lily London

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Reader Feedback

  ALSO BY LILY LONDON

  TRANQUILITY BAY RANCH:

  PROTECTING HALEY || EMMA’S PROTECTOR

  RESCUING MYLIE

  PRE-ORDER BOOK 4 IN THE SERIES NOW

  TRAINING JESSICA

  If you enjoyed this book, stay in contact by joining my mailing list HERE.

  You’ll never miss a new release!

  Subscribe to Lily London’s Newsletter!

  Connect with Lily London at:

  www.facebook.com/lilylondon

  http://lily-london.com/

  CHAPTER 1

  MYLIE

  Ihave always hated the look people give you when they think you are helpless, a victim.

  It all began when I left the hospital after staying there for a year. Not that I remember that year. I don’t remember going to the hospital or all the gifts my friends brought me. But after one year, my long list of friends slowly dwindled, and in the last three months of my stay in the hospital, only my brother Clay came to visit.

  Clay is ex-Navy and my best friend since childhood despite him being my brother. When he came back from war, with all the injuries, I felt it was my duty to protect him. I loved him and I’ve always been protective of him. I just wish he weren’t feeling sorry for what happened to me. I do not see how Clay thinks it could be his fault. I still remember the fateful day like it was yesterday.

  My ex-boyfriend Jimmy had been searching frantically for me the entire week. He had just realized I’d signed out on the lease and was planning to move away and leave him forever. He went around town searching for me and asking everybody where I was. Nobody at that time knew where I was apart from my friend Claire, and somehow Jimmy figured out how to get the information from her.

  Jimmy broke into my motel room at night. “You bitch! You think you can just run away from me, and I won’t find out, huh? Your friend Claire gave you up after just a few slaps. I saved the rest for you,” he shouted as he advanced towards me on the bed.

  I jumped to the other side of the bed and dialed my brother’s number, but Jimmy knocked the phone out of my hand. I tried my best to defend myself, but Jimmy was a UFC fighter, albeit a failed one. He still got a couple of good punches in. My eyes swelled until I could no longer see him well enough to help me evade his blows. The last thing I remember was trying to escape through the window and him grabbing me by my legs. I fell on the broken glass, and I passed out with the warmth of my own blood freely flowing beneath me.

  I didn’t recognize the room I woke up in. There was a nurse and a cleaner nearby who made some calls to family. Even though he had to come from Montana, Clay got there the same day. He was the only one to respond. In a way, I was glad because I knew my parents had long washed their hands of me.

  When Clay entered the room, we both started to cry. I had not seen him in a long time. I just didn’t know how long. Clay kept apologizing, and I couldn’t understand why he was not forgiving himself.

  “When you called for help, I was having one of my episodes. I am really sorry, Mylie. As soon as the phone rang, I knew I had to get out of the house because the memories of war were ravaging my head. I could not stand to be triggered.”

  I tried to console him, but it was in vain. He seemed to be in a lot more mental anguish than I was. For me, the injuries had all healed, but my body had somehow forgotten how to do some simple basic things like walking or standing upright. I needed extensive physical therapy, and Clay offered to take me in. I was happy because I knew my parents would feel forced to take care of me, but Clay wouldn’t let me feel like a burden.

  “Look, Clay, I don’t know what I expected when I called you. If I’d been thinking, I’d have realized you wouldn’t be able to get to me in time, even if you’d picked up right away. I should have called the cops. It’s not your fault. In fact, the doctor says that with the amount of trauma my body went through, it was a miracle I even survived. I just want to be well, and I know you will take care of me.”

  Clay took me back to Tranquility Ranch where I met many of his ex-Navy friends. Some had sustained more serious physical disabilities than Clay, but they all managed to cope well, taking care of each other, and living as a community. I met Emma at the hospital. She seemed glad that I would be around and was willing to help Clay with my physical therapy. I was happy that Clay had found someone he could love. I also met Derek and the other ex-Navy SEALs. My eyes caught onto Quinn, who was trying to steal glances at me. I felt bad that I arrived in a wheelchair but was determined to heal fully.

  Tranquility Bay Ranch seemed like the best place to come do some healing. Emma told me about her experience dealing with domestic violence victims. As a detective, she was one of the best in her field and wanted to be the one dealing with cases of predatory men such as Damien, the guy who had threatened Haley, the ranch receptionist, when she started going out with the ranch owner, Derek.

  Emma shared a couple more stories about the ranch that made me feel at home, and now that I knew there was someone who understood my situation, I was really looking forward to healing properly and getting up on my feet.

  “Your brother is always telling me about you. He feels terribly sorry about what happened to you, and he blames himself a lot. With you around, maybe he will also get over his PTSD. I just hope you find as much happiness here as I did,” Emma told me.

  I hoped so, too. She was full of love, and I understood what my brother saw in her. “I’m sure the ranch will be great for me. I know the kind of man my brother is. We can work together to help him with his PTSD. I know a lot of childhood memories that might help you put things into context. It will take a while before I fully heal, but meanwhile, I look forward to you helping me get back up,” I told Emma.

  Emma just smiled and went to prepare my room for me. Tranquility Bay Ranch was already feeling like home.

  CHAPTER 2

  QUINN

  Though I’d lived at Tranquility Ranch for over a year, I still got the nightmares. I had the usual one the night before I met Mylie.

  “We have a Code Red here. Three shrapnel perforations to his lungs and one lodged in his head. Subject is not responding to light or sound stimulation. Pulse is weak,” the nurse said as we prepared to work on Doug, whose face was so bloodied. I was halfway through the first procedure before I real
ized I was working on my best friend, a fellow orphan from Baltimore.

  I did everything I possibly could to lift Doug from danger, and after four consecutive surgeries to remove the shrapnel and another to depressurize his lungs, he seemed stable enough to undergo brain surgery to stem the damage from the other shrapnel. Despite my wanting to assist with the surgery, I had other critical patients to see. I had to trust my fellow doctors would take care of my friend.

  When I returned from my other patients to check on Doug, he was dead, and that reality shook me to the core. We had planned to retire together by the end of the next summer when our service contracts were up. The few months left were some of my hardest, and I broke down every minute. Doug was like a brother to me and was there during my divorce with my ex-wife. When my retirement drew near, I wondered where to go once I left camp.

  I had heard of an excellent place out in Montana called Tranquility Bay Ranch. The name came up often during counseling, and I decided to check it out. Bozeman was a small town of under 10,000 people, but it was a perfect blend of rural and urban America. It was much like what Baltimore was before the gentrification. I dreaded going back to the cobble bricks and quaint suburban homes. Furthermore, those people had their cosmetic doctors, and I needed to stay grounded to a community I had grown used to. Therefore, when the plane out of camp came, I was delighted to go start life afresh in Montana.

  Derek and his fellow ex-Navy guys welcomed me. I saw many were nursing their war pains, and I immediately felt a part of them. There is nothing that warms my heart more than fitting in somewhere where I feel needed. There was no chance of ever coming into a war scenario here, and I could use the slow pace and tranquility. As an army medic, I was trained to take care of every physical ailment that could happen to any individual whether man or woman. I was glad to note that at least they had a veterinarian who would take care of the horses. There were enough broken men and women here for me to take care of.

  I was quite impressed with Clay. He had received some major injuries, but he was one of the most reliable ranch hands. He seemed to work the hardest, and Derek, the owner, trusted him with his life.

  When we learned Clay’s sister was coming to stay at the ranch to recover from a coma she’d sustained when her boyfriend beat her up, we had a brainstorming session at one of the local bars. We didn’t want another mess like we’d had after Haley’s sleazy ex, Damien, came after her. Derek felt we needed to increase surveillance if we were to continue enjoying peace and tranquility at the ranch. Others suggested having a regular security check at the entrance to sieve out unwanted elements.

  I wasn’t sure how I could help with the protection, but I thought I might be able to assist Clay’s sister recover. There weren’t many people coming in for treatment, plus my Montana medical license was in some kind of bureaucratic limbo. I was still working on that. I loved tending to the horses and just generally making myself useful in any way I could, but it would be nice to do something a bit more medical.

  When Clay returned from Texas, we organized a small welcome home get together for his sister.

  When I saw her and heard her story, I was heartbroken. I’d heard stories like hers before, but I still couldn’t believe there were some men who would stay back home and hit their women when we had enough enemies out there making bombs and beheading people. I was usually a peaceful guy, but I found myself wishing I could find and punish the man who had hurt a woman as beautiful as Mylie.

  Mylie reminded me of my high school sweetheart, except she had this quiet peace around her that my ex didn’t have. That evening at the pub, I approached Clay and got to know more about his sister’s condition.

  “Well, this son of a bitch put my sister in a coma for a year, and I haven’t got the chance to pay him back. After that case with Damien, the police want a reason to say that I am unstable, so I haven’t been able to look into the punk’s case. But once everything is settled, I will pay him a visit and put him in his own coma.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Clay. Just be glad you have your sister alive and well. You can take care of her here, and she will be happy you are the one to help her out. In fact, if you need any help, please don’t hesitate to ask. I have all the training of a physical therapist plus more. You know doctors in the army tend to have more latitude and experience in such things than your typical doctors. I can probably get her up on her feet within a year,” I said.

  Clay seemed to consider my proposal, but after a while he shook his head. “I don’t think that would be a good idea. She just woke up from a coma given to her by a guy. She doesn’t trust anyone but me at the moment.”

  “I understand,” I said. “But I could help if she’d let me. I have the best medical experience in this ranch, probably the best for miles around. There’s only so much I can do out here with the animals and the repairs. I can do a better job repairing a person than a wall or a fence.”

  Clay was quiet for a bit. Then smiled and took a swig of his beer.

  “Let’s play a round of pool, and we can talk about this later. But thanks for the offer.”

  CHAPTER 3

  MYLIE

  Staying in bed all day awake was worse than being in a coma. At least when I was in a coma, I couldn’t hear anything. I only woke up very tired, and that feeling of fatigue stuck with me. At the ranch, Clay and Emma were quite supportive. Every day, Clay helped me get out of bed and into my wheelchair.

  He then helped out with my stretches and wheeled me around to find quality sunshine. After a week or so, I had the upper body strength to wheel myself around to any location within the ranch, and I got to see the men at work.

  I admired the spirit of brotherhood and hard work the ex-Navy men had. They sang their old military songs as they went about their work. It was a shame that most of them were male, but I understood the dynamics. This was like a healing center, and men required the company of other men to fully heal from the traumas of war.

  I was happy and proud of Clay for the progress he had made in his health. Before I slipped into a coma, Clay was at the worst point of his mental life. I would call him only to find him broken and afraid. It was like I was speaking to a different person, trapped in a warzone. The movies tried to explain on the horrors of PTSD, but I got to see it first-hand in my brother. When he came to visit, it was clear he had not had enough sleep. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and our parents mentioned it to him, but he said it was nothing to worry about.

  I might have been young, but I could see he was going through a hard time. That was a week before my ex put me in a coma. One of the reasons I wanted to stay with Clay instead of my parents was because I knew he would take care of me without any judgment or strain. Our parents had a way of making everything seem like a favor to you, and Clay was the opposite. He had a big, loving heart, and I knew he could protect me better than anyone else could. The other reason is because I wanted to also protect him and offer some good memories of home. We could both heal in this idyllic ranch, caring for the horses.

  Derek’s girlfriend, Haley, came by to check up on me as I was idly watching the men at work.

  “A bunch of hard workers, aren’t they?” Haley said.

  “Yeah, I see. I just wish there were more women here. But I am mighty glad to have found you. The ranch is doing a great job helping Clay.”

  Haley was not the type to talk much, but her silence spoke volumes. In her quiet smile and knowing looks I understand what she meant. Patience. I needed to be patient.

  The physical therapy was coming along great, but although Clay was doing his best, there were some things he had no clue about. So, he just helped me move my legs. Emma gave excellent massages, but Haley was also quite adept at it. The good thing was, she was more available than Emma, and so she could pass by anytime to help with my therapy. I could feel some strength returning. Still, it came with a lot of pain, which made me afraid that perhaps I would never walk properly or comfortably again. The sharp pains were a m
ajor concern, and Clay called in Quinn to make an observation.

  Quinn came and observed as Clay massaged and stretched my legs. He noted the winces and grunts, and then told Clay to stop.

  “I think I know where the problem is. There is nothing wrong with your bones or tendons. Those are fine and will get stronger as you continue your therapy. The thing is your muscular atrophy has affected the neural pathways from your limbs to your brain, causing pain. That pain is what we call phantom pain because it is a memory of a pain. Your mind is taking longer get over it than your body did. You understand?”

  I nodded, hoping he would explain further. Luckily, Clay was there to hide my ignorance of the medical terms.

  “Elaborate for us jarheads a bit,” Clay joked.

  “Well, when muscles lie in disuse for a long time, they waste away. The hospital nurses must have administered some massages, but those only help in blood circulation. Muscles need to be used in order for them to grow. Yours didn’t grow for a while, and they somehow forgot their function. Now, after a year, your brain has to figure its way around the impasse.”

  I began to understand what Quinn was saying. “So, that means if I want to walk, I just have to really want to walk?” I asked.

  “Yes. Basically, we know you want to walk. But you have to approach it as if you are desperate to go somewhere. That way, your brain will force the lagging neural pathways to remember how it was that you learned to walk as a child and retrace those steps to walking as an adult. It is a difficult process. Much more difficult than if your bones were broken and you had to walk through the pain.”

  Clay and Emma were listening intently without interruptions. Emma took Clay aside and whispered something to him. Then Clay came back as Emma went out to handle some laundry.

  “Thanks a lot, Quinn. Maybe we need to get back to the meeting Derek has called,” Clay said as they both left.