Living with Animals: Lily Rose

By Nellis Boyer

Lovely psychic, Lily Rose, flees to the small town of Coombsville seeking anonymity from those who would do her harm, but, her enemies follow. They are no match for Lily Roses powers as she rescues people and animals with her telekinetic ability and does away with those who seek revenge for her past actions.

She aligns herself with the towns vigilantes and animal protectors, Hardy and Estelle Johns, hoping to use her gifts to help animals, her passion. However, when she is abducted by two men and told to help them rob their drug bosss safe, her life takes a sudden, unexpected turn. One of the robbers and the drug boss are killed, and Lily Rose flees with the remaining thief. She survives the abduction and takes the windfall for herself and her beloved dog, Misty. But is that really the end of the story?

Sheriff Mitch Downey has fallen for Lily Rose, and he doesnt care what shes done, so when two crooked FBI agents try to steal the drug money for themselves, he must find a way to make it work for Lily Rose!

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Dec 1, 2009
• ISBN: 9781440190216

Nellis Boyer

Nellis Boyer lives on seventeen acres in northern California with her husband, Jerry, and a household of rescued animals. This is her eighth book.

Book preview

In the Beginning

She was born with a hole in her heart, and although the doctors said she wouldn’t live long enough for it to matter, she fooled them. She did live, and it did matter, for she filled the hole with miracles, and after many years, the hole slowly drew closed and disappeared, along with her mystical powers. Those few who knew of her medical condition speculated that the hole had been the source of her strange gift, and Lily Rose believed they were right.

Chapter One

The Present— A Life Saved

The overly burdened pack horse stumbled under her heavy load, falling to her knees. The man, a foul mouthed drifter, yanked the bit in the horse’s mouth and kicked her sweat- stained flank. Get up you stupid son of a bitch, he spat, kicking the animal a second time. The horse rocked sideways, a glazed look in her eyes, and made a feverish effort to rise but fell back down, her impossible load and lack of care finally taking its toll. The cowboy snarled and spat into the dirt. He strode to his saddle horse, pulled his 30.6 caliber rifle from its sheath, and approached the fallen animal. I’ll show you how we deal with slackers, he growled. He pointed the rifle at the horse’s forehead and cocked the trigger.

The click of the mechanism alerted the mare, for she knew what followed, and she whinnied and thrashed her head wildly, her eyes rolling white with fear. Once again she fought to rise but fell, the weight of the pack pulling her onto her side. The cowboy stepped closer, aimed directly between the animal’s eyes, and squeezed the trigger. The gun exploded, propelling a curtain of shrapnel and black smoke backward into his face, imbedding shards of hot metal into his upper body. He screamed and fell to the ground, clawing at his face as blood poured from his eye sockets. The explosion terrified the downed horse, and she flailed in the dirt, fighting to right herself. His skittish saddle pony bolted through the sage brush, leaving the man sprawled in the dust, blind and bleeding.

On the bluff overhead, Lily Rose sat atop Max, her gelded quarter horse, and when the cowboy hit the dirt, she squeezed her legs signaling him to move out. They quickly wound their way down around the rock outcroppings to the howling man and his intended victim, and Lily Rose dismounted and went directly to the struggling horse.

She whispered soothingly in low tones and stroked the horse’s forehead, calming her, and the man, his face coated in dirt and blood, heard her. Who’s there? he screamed. I need help. Help me, I can’t see!

Working with experienced hands, Lily Rose unhitched the cinches that held the cumbersome packs, freeing the horse from her burdens, and gently encouraged the animal to stand. She said nothing to the man who knew she was there but could not see her. Now free of her packs, the small chestnut colored mare made a valiant effort, heaving herself to her feet, where she stood wobbly and weakened by her struggles. Lily Rose led the animal to Max, who nuzzled her, blowing his hot breath into her nostrils.

Turning now to the cowboy, who sat staring at the sky unfazed by the brightness of the mid- day sun, Lily Rose said, I’ll tell them you’re out here. They should find you before the wolves do: if they come soon. She turned and walked back to Max and his new friend.

But wait, yelled the man, you can’t leave me alone out here. Who are you? I’m hurt, take me with you.

No, she said. Someone will come. The smell of the blood will bring them.

She gathered the reins of the smaller horse’s bridle, mounted Max, and turned him back the way they had come. As they climbed up into the rocks, the cowboy’s screams followed, rolling echos bouncing along the trail, but she paid them no mind. He had to pay the price.

When Lily and her horses got back to the ranch, she called the sheriff’s dispatch office and reported the man sitting in the dirt, his eyes full of blood. She didn’t give her name, just his location, and then she hung up. If the cowboy was lucky, they’d find him. If he wasn’t lucky, well, he’d brought it on himself when he’d crossed her property and attracted her attention. She had trailed him, watching his actions and willing the gun accident. This remarkable ability was her gift: it came as natural as breathing, and each time she used it, the hole in her heart became smaller.

****

Chapter Two

The Beginning—The Gift Revealed

Lily Rose! Lily Rose! Mama Celeste, the big black woman who cared for her called from the kitchen doorway. You got to come in now child, dinner’s on the table. You put that cat down and wash your hands for this food gets cold.

I’m comin, mama, Lily yelled, carefully setting the kitten on the grassy lawn. You stay here, she commanded, and we can play when I’m finished eating. The tiny kitten crouched, looking up at her with huge blue eyes and then settled down, seemingly content to wait for Lily Rose as instructed.

The child was ten years old now, and of all the places she had lived, she liked Mama Celeste’s the best. Lily Rose had been nobody’s child, left in a basket on the church doorway when she was two days old, a yellow blanket tucked around her little body, one rose and one lily placed on top of her stomach, like decorations on a cake. The nurses at St. Vincent’s named her Lily Rose, and for wont of anything better, the name stuck. The doctors diagnosed her heart condition, pronouncing a grim prognosis, but the child survived, and was placed in the state system. The orphan lived with many families, shuffled from one to the next as personal situations changed, and they had all been nice to her, treating her well, but never had she felt a bond like she did with Mama Celeste. And in response to the goodness and love Lily Rose received, the gift blossomed and made itself known, ready to be put to use. Lily Rose discovered it that evening when Mama Celeste called her in to dinner.

They had just sat down at the table—Lily Rose, Roland, her foster brother, Peter, Mama’s brother, and Mama herself when they heard the kitten’s screams. Lily Rose jumped from her chair and ran to the screen door, and what she saw paralyzed her, but only for a moment. A huge black dog had the kitten’s head in its mouth, flinging the tiny body back and forth like a rag doll, and it looked as if the dog would swallow the cat whole. Lily Rose flew into the yard, yelling, Stop! her arms flailing above her head.

The dog stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes riveted on the child, the kitten dangling from his jaws. Breathless and with a strange inner calm, Lily Rose saw the words in her head, as if printed with chalk on the blackboard at school, and she whispered them aloud, I command you to release my kitten. The dog opened his mouth obediently and the kitten fell into Lily Rose’s hands, then the dog collapsed and lay at her feet, whimpering. The kitten was scared but unharmed, and Lily Rose clutched it to her breast.

The family watched from the kitchen stoop, too amazed to speak. Finally Mama Celeste found her voice. Child, you got the power, she whispered, her voice quaking in awe at what they had all witnessed.

Hours later, the dog remained in the grass as if tethered by an unspoken agreement, and when she realized she needed to release him, Lily Rose stepped outside and knelt beside the animal, stroking his long nose. You can go home now. I know you’re a good dog, and you can come again, but don’t hurt my kitten. The animal stood and walked slowly down the street. She knew she had made a friend even though it hadn’t started out that way. Mama Celeste told the family that Lily Rose was a chosen one: the recipient of some strange power, and although the child was developing a new awarness of herself, she was too young to know what all of it would come to mean.

Chapter Three

Coming of Age

Lily Rose lived with Mama Celeste and her family in the rambling ranch house on the outskirts of Santa Lucita until the old lady passed away. As directed by Mama’s will, the house was sold and the profits divided among her named kin, blood or not, and Mama considered Lily Rose her daughter: her very special gifted child. Lily Rose was eighteen when Mama died, and she had come to realize that as she grew older, the power of the gift grew stronger, and she struggled to understand what was happening to her and why, but there were no answers.

Lily Rose found a respectable office job and moved into an apartment, but as fate would have it, important people in law enforcement became aware of her amazing abilities and they prevailed upon her to help them in their fight against crime. She agreed, for she saw the good in their work, but as time passed and in keeping with the nature of man, they began to abuse her pure natural resource, asking her to pollute her gift with greed and power plays that put her very life in danger. Mama Celeste would have flown in a rage from her grave had she known what these self serving men were demanding of her precious Lily Rose.

Finally becoming disillusioned with her would be mentors and realizing she was being used, Lily Rose retailiated, turning the tables on them, becoming a double agent: working for the criminals as well as the law. Any distinctions she may have harbored between right and wrong had become tainted and blurred, and when her enemies became more powerful than her friends, she took what little remained of her tiny inheritance and moved to Coombsville, a small town in a nearby rural county where she hoped to start life anew as an unknown. She qualified for a job with the local sheriff’s office handling dispatch, and answered an ad for the rental of a farm house on twenty acres— Estelle Johns’old place. Her life seemed as normal as anyone elses except for the gift, which she tried to call upon sparingly. But people like the cowboy were always intruding, forcing her to action. And explanations, when they were necessary, could be a hard sell— such as the drowning girl she saved from the river without going anywhere near the water. She had pulled the struggling child with her eyes, willing the rescue, but of course no one would understand, and she didn’t try to explain for she didn’t understand it herself. People who witnessed the scene—the little girl plowing backwards through the water toward the shore— shook their heads and said it was a miracle. Lily Rose agreed. She had the power to effect miracles, but the question of why this was so went unanswered.

Chapter Four

The Present Continues

The night after the rescue of the little mare, Lily spent time with the horses in the barn. She talked to them, brushed the trail dirt from their coats with her curry comb, fed them an extra ration of grain and oat hay, and filled their buckets with fresh water. Max was happy for a stable mate, and the mare pushed her head against Lily Rose’s chest, snorting and rubbing, seemingly aware of her good fortune. The rescued were always grateful for her power. They did not care where it came from or who delivered it, and Lily Rose vowed to make that knowledge her guiding force.

At the dispatch office the following morning, Marie, her co-worker, talked excitedly of the anonymous call about the man wandering in the scrub brush near rural route 40 behind Estelle Johns’old house. It seemed his rifle had exploded in his face, blinding him, and the prognosis didn’t look good. Sheriff Mitch Downey had found the man after a two hour search. Why the caller hadn’t identified herself was a mystery, as the explosion had obviously been an accident. The tattered cowboy said he had two horses but Mitch found no sign of them.

Hum, said Lily Rose, feigning interest while thumbing through the night’s paperwork. Whoever called probably just didn’t want to get involved. You know how people are about things like that.

I suppose, said Marie, yawning and putting on her coat. Well have a good day. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Yes, thanks. Lily Rose watched from the window as Marie crossed the parking lot and unlocked her car. She had liked the woman instantly and she hoped they could be friends. It would be nice to have a friend in her new town. As Marie drove away, Lily picked up the stack of papers that constituted the week’s dispatch reports and began reading. Nothing revealed the nature of a town like its distress calls. Having worked with various law enforcement entities and somewhat familiar with their work loads, she quickly realized that Coombsville had an inordinate share of disturbances for such a small town. Experience told her that Mitch Downey and his deputies could scramble for days and not get caught up. She was correct in that determination.

****

Mitch had given up the sheriff’s job to Marge Maguire less than a year ago, thinking he would enjoy being chief detective for the county, but he missed the sheriff’s duties, and when Marge had been killed by the murderous Jack, the Handyman Ripper, Estelle Johns’psychotic tenant, Mitch quickly asked for the old job back and got it. Yes, the little hamlet of Coombsville was a nest of intrigue and foul play, but now that Jack had died a bizarre death—stomped to death by a deer— the inhabitants hoped to breathe easy for a while, at least until things became too dull again, for as suspected by many, the town was addicted to violence.

Hardy Johns, beloved town veterinarian, became the Coombsville vigilante when necessary, delivering justice on behalf of abused animals, and Estelle and Mitch often took part in his capers, which had involved drugs and dog fighting gangs and eventually attracted the attention of the FBI. But the locals revered the vigilante, declaring him their home-grown super hero, and although no one knew his identity, when the feds came snooping, everyone claimed him, protecting their idol and making identification impossible.

With her keen sensibilities, Lily Rose was immediately aware of the uniqueness of the Coombsville dynamic, and her new job put her in touch with the pulse of the community. She knew from experience how valuable her talents could be in the hands of the right people, but she wasn’t sure yet who they were. And this time, she would be cautious with her choice of confidants, as she didn’t want to attract the self-serving elements of her past. The gift needed to be put to use, but she wanted to be anonymous, like this legendary Coombsville vigilante. How she envied him—or her— their freedom to act independently and without favors attached.

Lily replayed the anonymous call she had made, checking the quality of her voice. She had spoken in a low growl, and it came back over the line as hardly decipherable. She didn’t really worry about being identified as the caller, but why complicate the situation unnecessarily? Questions would require answers, and possibly pry open her special can of worms. The man deserved his fate, and the horse was safe, that was all that mattered. As she sat in the seat warmed for her by Marie’s amble rear, she smiled at the thought of the little mare’s soft muzzle. Yes, the gift was meant to be used for wonderful things.

Chapter Five

The cute new dispatcher did not go without notice around town, especially in the very office where she spent her days. Bachelor Sheriff Mitch Downey, having just turned forty, found himself attracted to her saucy look— the bouncy red curls, pert, turned up nose and Cupid’s bow lips. Lily Rose was a slight little thing. She’d fit nicely in the curve of your arm, Mitch, chided Hardy over lunch at Beulah’s diner. He and Estelle had long hoped their friend would stop his carousing. Now that forty had come, it was time to curtail the excess drinking, pick a woman— preferably one who could cook—and settle down.

She’s thirty one, I looked it up on her resume. You don’t think that’s too young for an old fart like me? Mitch asked, a twinkle in his eye. He gulped the last of his beer and waited for Hardy’s answer.

That’s perfect, buddy, she can take care of you when you fall apart. Can’t both fall apart at the same time, that’s damn inconvenient. Take Estelle and me, we’re the same age and we got no one to do the things that are getting hard for us—the yard work, the animals— its not getting any easier. This way, one of you always has more poop. It’s a good thing.

Yeah? Well that makes sense. Mitch nodded and slapped a wad of bills on the table. You ready? I got to keep an eye on my little cutie so one of those younger dudes don’t sneak in while I’m chattin it up with you. Let’s split. They said adios to cashier Martha and parted, Hardy heading for his clinic and Mitch to his substation and the new hire, Lily Rose.

Bella, Hardy’s rescued Border collie, met him at the clinic door, her tail wagging furiously. She usually accompanied him to Beulah’s, waiting in the truck while he ate, but today he had left her with Will, his son and fellow practioner. Her feelings had been hurt, but now that Hardy had retuned, all was forgiven.

Will, having graduated veterinary college and joined his father the year before,

was making the practice a lot easier for the old man. Hardy was able to take the occasional break from routine, knowing his clients were in good hands, something he had not been able to do until now. Forty years had been a lifetime, and he had been there every single day for the town, in more ways than they could ever dream. He