Finding You (Finding You Series Book 1) Read online

  The relaxed atmosphere of the island felt like the polar opposite to where I had come from. A handful of passersby meandered down uncluttered roads as if they had nowhere to go and all day to get there. Gleeful dogs off leashes were left to scent and sniff out trails while small children with butterfly nets jump and swoop, laughing merrily as their colorful prey continues to elude them. Leaving behind the hustle and bustle of the smoggy, dense metropolis, it felt like stepping into utopia.

  “I think I’m really going to enjoy it here.”

  There was no fear of running into my ex-husband John or having any reminders of my past. For the first time in years there was nothing to do but bask in the glory that was Sapphire Island.

  The resort materialized. Of course, it was very tropical and fitted in to the surroundings of the island, with the palm trees amply adorning the circumference of the building. The main entrance was a huge circular structure built from timber and the dome straw roof cut an imposing feature. A large annex protruded out from the front with large wooden pillars to support it.

  The driver pulled up outside the foyer and unloaded my bags, offering to carry them inside. I was extremely grateful and so paid him a little extra for his trouble as he left. It wasn’t that my meager, embarrassing collection of clothing swimming in the suitcase would weigh me down; it’s just that it was nice to be waited on for a change.

  A tall, willowy woman with skin the color of coffee presented herself in the foyer. She was wearing an exquisite sarong with white sandals on her feet. Her features were dark and attractive. She wore no makeup, yet didn’t appear to require any since her flawless skin naturally glowed. Her strands of hair were effortlessly pulled back from her face and done up in a high bun with a bright blue hair tie. Height-wise she kissed six foot, leaving me in her shadow.

  “Miss Livingston, we’ve been expecting you. Welcome to Sapphire Island. My name is Ramah and I’ll be your hostess. If there is anything you need, come and see me first.”

  The warmth she exuded made Ramah the perfect person for such a hands on, demanding job. Her dark, magical eyes sparkled as she spoke. I held her gaze, feeling an instant rapport with the woman as we shook hands. Her skin was soft, her grip firm, a sign of good character my father had taught me.

  “Look people in the eye and give a firm handshake, pumpkin. It shows strength.” Some things stick with you for a lifetime. That was one of them. My dad was a well-respected man of the community, so whatever he said to me was gospel. God, I loved that man.

  “Thank you and please, call me Dakota.”

  “What an unusual name! Does it have a special meaning?” quizzed the woman curiously, obviously having never heard it before.

  I’ve had that most of my life, actually and it could really grow to be tiresome. Sometimes I wished my parents had settled for a simple name like Jane or Jill. Not wanting to come across as rude though I acted as if it was the first time I’d been asked it.

  “Well, yes. I guess it does. My parents were on a working holiday in America when I was conceived. They tried to make it back to Australia for my birth but I ended up entering the world early. I was born in North Dakota so my parents decided to name me after the place where I was born. That way, whenever they say my name they’ll remember their time overseas.”

  Ramah listened and nodded. The woman spoke excellent English and seemed to understand every word I spoke. This resort was to be my home for the next four weeks so being able to communicate with the locals was imperative.

  “Please let me take you to your room, Dakota,” she offered, pulling a key off a hook and motioning forward. I eagerly followed wanting to ditch the luggage.

  Stepping out the back door, I saw a gigantic, oversized pool that took up most of the yard, and if I hadn’t been concentrating on my step so carefully, I would have fallen right in, making a grand entrance that would have embarrassed me no end to the bathers lazing on the deck chairs.

  The slight breeze took the edge off the hot sea air as I wiped the beads of perspiration off my brow. A change of clothing was the first priority. Not that I was going to get a migraine deciding what to wear out of the pitiful array of clothes in the case. Bikini or shorts? Shorts or bikini?

  We meandered along the cobbled pathway to the hut that sat right on the beach with the balcony jutting out onto the beautiful, delicate sand. The water was only twenty feet from the front door.

  “If there is anything at all you need, please just ask,” soothed the woman compassionately. “As I mentioned earlier, my name is Ramah and my husband’s name is Hayden. We’ll try and make your stay here as pleasant as possible.”

  With that she grabbed both of my hands, like a mother would with her teenage daughter, and whispered, “A woman of your beauty will be swept away by the magic of Sapphire Island. We have much to offer here and many single people who came here alone have left with a special someone. It is a very romantic place. Hayden and I have become matchmakers on a couple of occasions. Are you married, dear?”

  Taken aback at the stranger’s bold question and thinking about my answer for a little while, my throat constricted as I stammered, “Uh, I was married once but we have separated. I’ve come to this island to celebrate a new beginning.” I gulped down the pain, hoping to avoid giving anything away.

  Ramah’s ebony eyes were mesmerizing. The dark irises were speckled with light flecks of amber. They held their own secrets. I felt like I was looking right into the kind woman’s soul, connecting with her.

  A yellow light with patches of pink emanated from the woman’s head. I could see it clearly. Ever since my close brush with death I’d been able to see auras. Every single person had colors around their body but it was only a select few that were able to see the colors. I couldn’t fathom why I was now able to see auras, but I did know that some people had pretty colors and others had dark.

  Ramah squeezed my hands again, almost knowingly before turning and walking away. As I stood there letting the mysterious woman’s words sink in, I couldn’t help but wonder if they would come true. Would I ever find true love? I didn’t want to die alone. There was meant to be someone for everybody, right? Maybe I was unlovable or just attracted the bad seeds.

  The same nausea that had eaten my stomach lining away on the flight returned with a vengeance.

  “I’ll never find anyone to love me with all these scars.”

  Doubt swept in. Would love be possible? Could I give my all? I pulled my sleeve down as far as possible, hoping Ramah hadn’t noticed the large, jagged mark on my arm caused by one of John’s outbursts. The concrete at the bottom of the stairs had broken my fall after he’d casually yet forcefully elbowed me as he’d passed by. Amazingly nothing had broken but the sharp rock jutting out from the garden bed had opened my arm to the bone. Thirty stitches later and permanent nerve damage was forgotten in time. The emotional trauma that hid deep within had cut me like a knife.

  Just let new experiences come into your life, Dakota, and forget about the past! Forget John and all that he did to you. It’s gone. Now is what’s important.

  The hut was roomier on the inside with plenty of cupboard space. A queen-sized bed filled half of the main room with a sitting chair off to one side and a small but efficient looking kitchen over the other side.

  Beautiful, polished mahogany floors glistened as the light poured in through the large windows. At the back of the hut was a separate bathroom. The double shower cubicle was enormous and looked big enough for two people. In fact it startlingly resembled a honeymoon suite. Everything catered to couples. Was this a sign of things to come? A little crack of hope offered itself to me and yet with that came fear. Fear of never being good enough.

  Ramah and Hayden had spared no expense on the exotic decor that furnished the room. Native flowers filled a tall glass vase in the center of a small dining table with two chairs. The sweet, subtle scent moved with me through the hut.

  There was no television, radio, or other civilized conveniences a
nywhere to be seen, which suited me fine. Writing was going to be my main priority, and judging by the surroundings, there would be plenty of inspiration. My second book was well underway and if things went to plan, I’d finish it before going home.

  I had never planned on becoming a writer. It had fallen into my lap as part of the healing process whilst recovering in hospital. I’d started keeping a journal, filling it with thoughts, anecdotes, hopes, and dreams. Well, as you can imagine with all the chatter going on in my head, there was more than enough to fill a book and so it just kind of morphed out of that. Having a friend that worked in the publishing industry had given me the leg up I’d needed to get a contract and I hadn’t looked back since.

  After unpacking, I put my bikini on.

  The sound of the waves crashing on the shore and the hint of salt water soon drew me back out the door to the pristine beach. There were still a few hours of daylight left so I planned on soaking up some rays on my lily-white skin.

  I let the sand granules fill the gaps between my toes. It felt heavenly. The day was perfect; the clouds all disappeared. The coastal breeze still blew, causing my hair to twirl and swirl around my face every so often as it wafted over my skin like a delicate downy feather.

  Finding a nice spot of sand not too far from my hut, I laid my towel down before walking to the water’s edge to feel the temperature. The tepid ripples gently washed up and over my feet as I stood drinking in the view over the distant horizon. My heels sank down into the sand with the current pulling at my feet as the water receded.

  Looking to the left, in the distance I noticed a group of people huddled together with movie cameras. There looked to be a lot of nothing going on. I squinted against the sun trying to focus a little more until my eyes started watering and I gave up.

  It was too far off to see exactly what they were doing so I shrugged it off.

  Wandering back up to my towel, tiredness grabbed me. It had been a long day. I lay down on my back, allowing my body to absorb the intensity of the sun, letting my thoughts float off to nowhere in particular. Totally relaxed. Without even knowing it I soon drifted into the land of nod, the torment simmering under the surface.

  Then what seemed like only minutes later, I sprang up like a jack-in-the-box for the second time that day.

  “Miss Dakota! Wake up! Goodness gracious, you fell asleep.”

  The frantic tone to the woman’s voice startled me out of a deep slumber.

  “I’m so glad you’re awake. It’s six o’clock in the evening. How long have you been lying here?”

  “What? Six o’clock! Oh my God!” I looked at my cell phone, searching for proof. “The afternoon was so nice and the ocean sounded so soothing that it drew me outside. When I got down here I discovered just how tired I was and decided to lie down for a short while. I guess I just drifted off.”

  “Oh well, that’s all right,” Ramah replied, suddenly smiling as relief set in. “As long as you are okay. I was actually coming to your hut to tell you about the complimentary buffet that we offer for your first night here. I forgot to tell you earlier when we met.”

  “That sounds wonderful.” I genuinely meant it. My stomach growled. I definitely had an appetite. It must have been the sea air. “What time is it?”

  “It starts at six-thirty and it’s all you can eat. If you want to come, I’ll reserve a table for you. I have a feeling it’s going to be a busy night.” Walking off, Ramah suddenly turned around. “Oh, and bring your appetite. You’re going to need it!”

  I called out a thank you as I rose and strolled back to my hut, then I dove into the shower.

  The sand stuck to me like glue so I scrubbed and scrubbed until the granules lay at my feet. My skin stung. The clear glass soon fogged up as the steam filled the room, making it hard to see anything at all. It felt like the piercing beads of water were washing away my past; I felt like a new person. I slumped against the wet tiles and sighed the longest sigh. It felt so good to be safe here. Not having to deal with drama was like the best thing ever.

  When the water turned cold I stepped out onto the fluffy white bath mat. The earlier siesta in the sun had colored me embarrassingly red. Not a nice look and hard to match clothes with.

  Taking the handful of items out of the suitcase and hanging them up made the closet look massive. My four insignificant clothes hangers barely took up any room at all in the intimidating chasm. I remembered tossing at least ten other outfits out of my suitcase at home in an attempt to pack lighter—now it seemed a silly thing to do.

  “I have nothing to wear!” It was a woman’s worst nightmare.

  Trying on my only dress first, I changed and settled on the top and short set that might be more appropriate for a tropical island.

  The top was made of lace and was slightly revealing yet still left enough to the imagination and the shorts were above my knees and fairly fitted with a cuff at the bottom and a belted waist. I shyly looked in the mirror, expecting to see the face of an abused woman. I nearly fell backwards at the sight of my own reflection. For the first time, the image staring back at me looked half-beautiful, even with the fading scars and sunburn. There before my very eyes the caterpillar was now transforming into the butterfly. At that very moment I no longer felt ugly. The ugly had been left thousands of miles away with all the pain. Wondering if the mirror was playing tricks on me, I gently touched my face, feeling the reality beneath my fingers.

  The small island paradise was already working its magic. Gone was the frown that had permanently taken up residence on my brow. My shoulders no longer stooped forward in resignation. The statuesque brunette that reflected back at me was eager to erase the past and embrace the future.

  After drying my hair, which splayed across the middle of my back, I decided how I’d wear it. Carefully brushing it, I twisted the strands through one another to form a braid. It felt good to have the hair off my face. For so long now it had blanketed my sorrowful expression. I’d almost forgotten what my own appearance looked like. Living with John had made me afraid to look in any mirrors. I’d felt so dirty and ugly when I was with him. Looking in a mirror would have only confirmed what he’d always told me: I was worthless and hideous.

  Here though, miles and miles away from the man that had threatened to rob me of everything, including my soul, I could look into the mirror and see a woman who had survived. A woman who was daring to move forward out of tragedy: to put the past to rest and not look back. It was the person I had always been, but was too afraid to let bloom. The quiet, elusive persona had served its purpose with John and it had been a safe façade to avoid beatings. Deep within lay buried a passionate, loving woman, waiting to spring free.

  In an instant makeup was done and shoes were on. It was time to start living.

  The moon glistened fitfully, along with the millions of stars that were vying for second place. The trees rustled faintly as I found the restaurant, which was lit up like a Christmas tree.

  Ramah was a gracious hostess doing the meet and greet.

  “Would you like smoking or non-smoking?” asked Ramah as Hayden began seating the other patrons.

  “Non-smoking, please. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s the smell of smoke wafting in my face as I’m eating my meal.”

  John had smoked. The burn on my arm was proof of that. Kissing him had been like licking an ashtray. The stale, recycled smoke had been purposely puffed into my face as a reminder of his rank over me. As soon as he’d leave the house I would fervently spray every nook and cranny with air freshener, not only to dissipate the stale smoke but to try and cleanse the house of my husband’s dark energy.

  Pleased with the table by the window overlooking the pool, I sat down. The view outside was magical as the garden lights shimmered as brightly as the stars in the sky.

  “Would you like anything to drink, Dakota?”

  Pondering for a moment, contemplating on whether or not I should indulge, my newly discovered good mood got the better of
me.

  “Yes, please. I’ll have a vodka and lemonade, thank you.” Alcohol had never been high on my list of priorities, especially since I had been on the receiving end of its wrath on many occasions. Somehow though, being so far away from my woes, I felt the need to celebrate my new beginning.

  Ramah went away, leaving me to settle in and enjoy the ambience. The dance floor and jukebox were in one corner and the food tables were in the other. The food looked delicious with copious amounts constantly being brought out to keep up with the increasing number of arrivals. Everyone appeared to be in good spirits, which rubbed off on me. For the first time ever, I felt electric.

  A full array of meats, tropical fruits, and vegetables filled the tables, so I decided to try a little of everything. It wasn’t long before my plate was sky high with food.

  Demolishing my mound of food as I people-watched, a group of rowdy people entered the restaurant, causing everyone to see what all the commotion was. American accents cavorted rambunctiously as the strangers laughed and fooled around. They sailed over to a table not too far from mine and sat down. Smoke instantly wafted over into the nonsmoking area, causing me to cough, which really defeated the whole purpose of having a nonsmoking area since I could still inhale the fumes. I didn’t like to ask to be moved though as the restaurant was filling up fast.

  Ramah brought another vodka and lemonade that I could feel going straight to my head. It was a great kind of giddy, though.

  Taking in the hustle and bustle of the busy restaurant, my eyes fixated on one of the Americans. He had a brown buzz cut atop small ears. His face was boyishly cute with a golden brown tan. He was engrossed in a conversation with his friends and was waving his hands around in a demonstrative manner every time he spoke. His delicately chiseled cheek bones stood proud and high above his soft, pink lips. He was beautiful.