Dianne's Destiny Read online

  Dianne inhaled and tucked a loose strand of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. She had dreaded the first meetings with people who might recognize her and ask questions. “I used to live here but left after I graduated high school.”

  “Yeah, what’s your name? I’ve lived here all my life.” The waitress snapped her gum and cocked her hip as if she planned to stay a while.

  “Geneva Jacobson.” Dianne never believed she would be grateful to use her real first name and former married name. She hoped to discourage conversation by spreading the napkin in her lap, repeatedly smoothing out the folds. Her chest tightened, and she ducked her chin to her chest to avoid eye contact.

  “I don’t recognize your name, but I’m not as young as I used to be.” A bell from the back rang. “That’s probably your fish.”

  The waitress crossed the room in quick strides and returned just as quickly. The basket of fish and fries she placed in front of Dianne made her mouth water. She groaned with appreciation, glancing around for the squeeze bottle of tartar sauce she remembered. “Could I have tartar sauce please? I don’t have a bottle on my table.”

  “Well, hon, the health department made us quit leaving it on the table. Now, we just put it in these little cups. How many will you want?”

  “Two will be fine.”

  The woman returned with the tartar sauce and waited by the table, as if wanting Dianne to try the food. She dipped a piece of fish in the sauce and chewed, nearly moaning with delight. “Tastes as delicious as I hoped it would.” The crunch of corn meal fried golden brown, the light taste of the fish, and the first fried food she’d had in years was better than she remembered.

  She looked up, and a tinge of guilt made her think she should be more forthcoming. Each step toward starting over seemed to take more conscious effort than she imagined. She smiled at the woman. “You might remember me as Dianne Raborn. I graduated in 1996. You look familiar to me as well. I’m not good with names.”

  The waitress slapped her thighs and belted out a belly laugh. “Well, good Lord, of course I remember you. I’m Ruth, Teresa Starling’s mother. You girls used to keep me on the edge of my seat.”

  A chuckle rippled in Dianne’s throat. “Really? You look great. I guess we did play havoc with you and my mother. How is Teresa?”

  “She’s just fine. Married one of the Howard boys. They have three children. Have you seen Kip since you got back? He never married.”

  She nodded and dipped another piece of fish into the cup of tangy tartar sauce, not trusting herself to speak. Thinking about Kip again raised more questions about whether or not coming back had been a good idea. Would she be able to stay? One thing she knew for sure, if she left again, she wouldn’t go back to New York.

  “Do you remember Mr. Grant from the 3G Ranch?”

  “I do.”

  “When he died he didn’t have any family left, so he willed the 3G and all he had to Kip. Did you see the log cabin on the bluff? That’s his new home. Ricochet is his foreman. He and his family live in the old homestead.”

  “It’s a lovely house. The sun bouncing off of the windows nearly blinded me when I drove across the bridge.” She felt a sense of pride knowing that Kip had done well.

  The bell rang again. “I have to get back to work.” She hesitated, wrote something down and handed Dianne an order ticket. “This is Teresa’s number, give her a call.” Ruth bustled away, shoes squeaking on the sticky concrete floor.

  Dianne left the café and drove through her former home town, expecting it to be a walk down memory lane. Sadness rose and left a lump in her throat as she drove past several boarded up businesses on Main Street.

  She sighed, a combination of relief and nostalgia, to see the old drugstore and soda fountain still stood. Hot fudge sundaes with too much whipped cream and extra nuts were always her first choice. The kid working the fountain never failed to make hers the biggest and best. She smiled. Kip always said it was because the kid had a crush on her.

  She ended up at the high school without forethought. She stopped in the parking lot, lowered the window, leaned out, and looked up at the statue of the school mascot—an Eagle with wide spread wings and sharp talons. Funny, she remembered it being larger. The marquee announced homecoming at which her alma mater would be playing a long standing rival. Images of games past floated through her mind. She saw red and white dominating the bleachers, heard the cheers, remembered the worry she felt when Kip was on the field, even tasted the saltiness of the popcorn.

  She drummed on the dashboard with her fingers, surprised when she recognized the cadence of the school fight song. She didn’t realize she remembered it. The adage about not being able to go home again popped into her mind. Had she come home again? Or, had she simply changed geographic locations in a dire attempt to escape the panic that threatened to drown her?

  Chapter 3

  Fatigue hit hard when Dianne arrived back in Wichita Falls. She was renting a room in the historic Blankenship mansion. The owner, Mrs. Blankenship, was out of the country, but she’d left a key and had a maintenance staff and housekeepers who came in every few days It was the perfect set up for peace and quiet, not to mention convenience.

  She plodded up the dark walnut stairs pulling herself along with her hand. The clean, citrus smell of lemon oil reminded her of her mother. She had helped clean their house from top to bottom every Saturday, including rubbing wooden surfaces with the fragrant oil. She reached the landing and leaned over to admire the two story Italian marble fireplace in the formal living room. The faces of mythological gods carved on its surface fascinated her and reminded her of Rome. A large arrangement of long stemmed coral roses and baby’s breath dominated the foyer. She headed to her suite, and relief washed over her when she locked the door.

  The nostalgia of the day tugged at her heart. She went to the closet to search for a box from her past life.

  She wrestled three boxes out and sat on the floor beside them, knowing what she wanted, but not being able to remember which box contained it. Why hadn’t she had the foresight to write more than “books” on them?

  The first contained textbooks. She shoved that one aside. The second held novels. The third held her memories and dreams. She started stacking photo albums at her side until they leaned precariously, threatening to fall. She straightened them and lifted the red and white high school yearbooks out of the box. Making a desk from a plump, soft sofa pillow she opened a book to the class photos. She saw herself defying the photographer’s inane effort to make her smile. She had been fifteen years old and angry at the world.

  It had been hard being a teenager and having a father in prison. The shame weighed on her every day, then and now. The other kids were relentless in their teasing and bullying. Because of him, most of them believed she used drugs. She chose not to use drugs for that reason. Painful taunts leapt to her mind—“your dad’s a crook”, “druggie”, “jail bird girl”. So many hateful, hurting words. Her father was still in prison, but she hadn’t been in touch with him since her mother died during her senior year.

  Forgiveness had been on her mind since she returned home. The forgiveness she sought was from others because of the way she left without warning or explanation. She would seek that before she considered giving it to her father. During her senior year her mother was diagnosed with cancer. Kip stayed with her and supported her through each cruel phase of the disease. Without him she would never have made it. She had felt like curling up in a ball and dying almost every day back then when her world turned upside down.

  She brought her fingers to her lips, kissed them, and touched the image of young Kip. Tears of sorrow and regret fell freely down her face. She hadn’t been happy in college or in her profession. Life had become a series of habits and bad decisions. Despite that, she had achieved success and become wealthy, especially by Oklahoma standards. She would forever be grateful to Kip for befriending her when she needed a friend more than she ever had. Neither of them expected to f
all in love. Now, she was back in his life. He was helping to save her again and didn’t know it. He should have hooked up with that cheerleader.

  Dianne had no idea why he hadn’t. She never believed she was good enough for Kip Mahan anyway. She convinced herself leaving would be best for him.

  She opened the yearbook from her senior year. The musty smell reminded her of libraries, stolen kisses, and regret. There they were, smiling and mugging for the camera but always together. She and Kip had been voted cutest couple three years in a row. The next photo forced her to swallow the lump growing in her throat. Tears filled her eyes. Senior prom, such a bittersweet evening. It marked new beginnings and the beginning of the end. Kip had told her each time they danced how beautiful she looked, how much he loved the simple blue voile dress she wore. He had compared it to the color of her eyes.

  She had known moving east was an option she should consider that night, but kept it to herself. Several universities had expressed an interest in having her attend their schools. She was embarrassed, yet flattered, when she was voted Most Likely to Succeed. The small town outcast became accepted, even popular, because of the love and kindness of a young cowboy.

  She had mixed feelings about being back, but going to the equestrian center had proved Dr. Murphy right. He told her, even ordered her, to visit the center just to see if it would help her overcome the debilitating panic she fought since the attack. Being near a horse, even for that brief time, had been comforting and cathartic.

  She made a mental note to ask Beth if she could spend more than her appointed hour with Emperor. She wanted hours, not minutes. As foolish as the thought was, she hoped Kip would be there.

  Ruth told her Kip never married. Was it possible he still loved her? Or, had her betrayal when she left without warning broken his heart into so many pieces he lost the ability to love or trust? Maybe she was giving herself too much credit. It was possible he wasn’t the marrying kind, that he was a playboy, although the Kip she remembered had been loyal, solid, and had the makings of a devoted husband. People changed, though, especially after a decade and a half.

  Dianne stretched her legs in front of her, laid back, and cradled her head in her cupped hands. Her thoughts moved back and forth in time. Confusion reigned over other emotions. The time for a confrontation with Kip would soon arrive.

  Betrayal hardened hearts more than hatred, loss, or disappointment ever could. Life was offering her a chance for redemption. Everybody made mistakes, but hers had caused more harm than most. For the first time she truly wondered why she never made a real effort to contact any of the people from her past. Especially Kip. These days making it big didn’t seem as important as she once believed. The bitterness of guilt and regret rose in her throat. She pushed the yearbooks aside and stood, then crossed the room for a bottle of water.

  She stepped through the heavy leaded glass door onto a small balcony. Dusk hues of red, orange, and gold settled on the Texas plains. A masterpiece lay before her, the horizon seemed endless. She put her hands on the rail and leaned over to look in every direction. She imagined how the area must have looked when the mansion was built at the turn of the century. A railroad track lay within a few hundred yards of her balcony. It fascinated her that the original owners simply caught the train near their home if they wished to travel.

  Sirens jerked her from the musings. The shrill sounds reminded her of New York. Sighing, she went back inside. She needed to talk to her only true friend, Jocelyn Hartford. Using speed dial she called Jocelyn in San Francisco. When Jocelyn answered, Dianne heard the shuffling sounds of paper and phones ringing in the background.

  “Hey! Sorry, I forgot about the time difference. Do you have a minute?” Dianne settled on her plush love seat.

  “Sure, for you always. How’s it going?”

  “Better. Every day is still a struggle, but I feel stronger. I went to the equestrian center for the first time today and had a couple of panic attacks. But, being near horses again soothed me.” She heard the tremble in her own voice.

  “Really? What else is going on? You seem upset.”

  “Kip was there.”

  “What? Did you say Kip? The Kip?”

  Dianne laughed. “Yes. The Kip. I recognized him immediately, and he recognized me. He looks damn good.”

  “What are you going to do? Can you handle being around him in your emo—” Jocelyn cleared her throat. “I mean, after all that’s happened lately?”

  “Yes, I believe I can handle him in my emotional state.” Dianne kept her voice steady, letting her friend know she wasn’t offended. “I’m going back to the center as scheduled, and I’ve made a note to ask for more appointments. I’ll do just about anything to get better, and my new doc believes in equestrian therapy. My verdict is still out. What are the chances you could take a few days off and come out here?” She twirled a strand of hair around her index finger as she waited for her friend to respond.

  “Sure. Let me just get a few things squared away. Can you see me in cowboy country?” Jocelyn chuckled.

  “You’ll be the best looking cowgirl around.” Dianne smiled at the mental image. “Thanks, J. Love you.”

  A weight lifted from her shoulders at the thought that Jocelyn would be flying out as soon as possible. Dianne purposely hadn’t told her she had been thinking about moving again since she’d seen Kip.

  Chapter 4

  Dianne put her left foot in the stirrup and pulled herself over the horse’s back with a groan. She wiggled her bottom into the seat, made sure her boots were well placed in the stirrups, and settled in for a relaxing ride in the sandy arena. Urging Emperor into a trot allowed her fears to fly away behind her.

  Horses healed the heart and soul. For reasons she no longer recalled, she had smothered that great truth. She hadn’t seen Kip since that first day more than a month ago, but knew he was around, because a 3G truck and trailer was often parked behind the barn. She looked for him at the arena, grocery store, traffic lights. Everywhere. His presence, real or remembered, dominated her thoughts.

  She dismounted at the barn and led Emperor to his stall. He nudged at her. Laughing, she stopped and pulled a sugar cube from her pocket. “Here you go, greedy boy.”

  Emperor laid his head across Dianne’s shoulder, giving her the equine version of a hug. She squeezed his neck and scratched his ears, giving thanks for the healing power of this horse.

  Softly humming Elvis Presley’s “Love Me Tender,” she brushed the now dozing horse.

  “You seem to be getting along well with Emperor.”

  Dianne gasped, spun, and dropped the brush. Her hand flew to her mouth. “Kip! You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

  “What was that song you were humming? Sounds familiar.” Kip patted Emperor on the neck.

  Heat rose in her face. She breathed so fast she feared she would hyperventilate. The brush of Kip’s sleeve against her arm scalded her skin. She rubbed her arm and swallowed hard, trying to gain composure. “What? Humming? Oh, just an old song. You probably couldn’t recognize Happy Birthday if I sang it. I’ve never been able to carry a tune.”

  Kip’s hazel eyes crinkled at the corners. He leaned a hip against the gate to Emperor’s stall. “Sounded like “Love Me Tender.” Our song.”

  Dianne widened her eyes. She couldn’t believe he remembered.

  “Yeah, I remember,” he said as if reading her mind. “That, and a lot of other things.” He pursed his lips and stared into her face. “I know it’s awkward between us. I’ve tried to stay away or just be busy when you’re here, but I’m tired of that. We have to acknowledge each other. What happened was a long time ago. It’s in the past, where it needs to remain.”

  “Yes…sure. I agree. We’re adults now. We were just kids then.”

  Kip pushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes. “The main thing is that you get better.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. “I’m sorry. About what happened to you in New York.”

  She nod
ded, unable to speak around the knot in her throat.

  “You feel like talking about it?”

  Her chest rose and fell with rapid breaths, and all she could manage was a jerky shake of the head.

  “If you change your mind, let me know. Well, I should get back to work.” He walked to the barn door and turned back with a grin. “And you’re right, you still can’t carry a tune.”

  Dianne smiled, her heart feeling lighter than it had in years. She shook the dust and hair from the blanket, put the saddle on the rack, cleaned the bit and bridle, fed Emperor and filled his water bucket hoping the busy work would calm her. But the past kept tugging at her. Lately, rather than the mugging, her mistakes haunted her. Leaving Kip, mainly. And now, being around him was…bittersweet. It made her feel off kilter, foolish. Holding her hands straight out in front of her, she saw that they shook. She stuffed them in her pockets and headed to the office.

  “Gracious, Dianne! Are you all right? You’re so pale.” Beth moved to assist Dianne to a chair.

  She accepted a bottle of water from Beth and gulped it. “Thanks, I had a small panic attack, but I’m better now. I’m heading home for a hot shower, pizza, and a good book. Kip came to the stall. I guess he makes me nervous.”

  Beth raised one eyebrow. “He seems to be nervous around you too. I’ve never known him to be anxious about anything.”

  ****

  Kip’s heart filled with something he hadn’t experienced in a long time. Hope. Coupled with anger, but it was there. He wished Dianne would laugh like she used to and throw her startling smile his way.

  A late afternoon breeze whispered through the rails of the wrap-around porch. He leaned back in his chair and propped his boots on the rail. His foreman and lifelong best friend, Ricochet Sigafus, headed toward him. His signature lazy and lanky gait seemed hurried as he came across the yard and stepped up on the porch beside Kip. “Just thought you’d want to know your favorite mare will be foaling soon. Wanna’ walk with me?”