Elizabeth Bevarly - Society Bride

Renee knew she could use a small rest—even a short one. She did feel more exhausted lately than she should, and entering a marriage fatigued wasn’t a good idea. And what better way to rest than by traveling to a place where she didn’t know anyone, where no one knew her, where she would have no obligations, no responsibilities, no requirements save taking it easy?

She didn’t have to stay long, she told herself. Only a few days, long enough to reassure herself that she was making the right decision. Because marrying Lyle, she was sure, was indeed the right decision.

The timing of Kate’s offer was actually very good. Lyle was out of town again—on business, naturally—and wouldn’t be returning until the day before the wedding. The rest would do Renee good. She hadn’t been sleeping well at all, thanks to all those dreams about Garrett.

Without realizing she had agreed to take Kate up on the offer, Renee found herself reaching slowly for the key the woman held out to her. But before she could grasp it, Kate released it, and the key fell easily right into the palm of Renee’s hand.

“You’ll be going to the Final Destination Ranch in Last Resort, Wyoming,” Kate said with a smile.

Gee, could there possibly be anything more symbolic than that? Renee wondered.

“There’s a little guest cabin on the property that’s removed from the main house,” Kate continued. “It’s private and quiet, and perfect for your needs. I’ll call the manager this afternoon and tell him to expect you this evening.”

“This evening?” Renee echoed. “Oh, I couldn’t possibly leave today. I have to go home and pack, tell my father and Lyle where I’m going and—”

“I’ll tell your father,” Kate volunteered. “It’s been ages since I spoke to him, and this will give me the perfect excuse to call. Then he can tell your fiancé.”

Renee opened her mouth to object, but Kate hurried on before she had a chance.

“And you need pack only the barest essentials. Everything you could ever need or want in life is on that ranch. Trust me.”

“But I have to make travel arrangements and—”

“You can take the Fortune jet,” Kate interrupted breezily, as if she were offering the use of a bicycle and nothing more. She rose from her chair, evidently forgetting that she had come to the spa for some reason other than taking charge of Renee’s life. “I’ll call and take care of all the arrangements for you. Just be at the Fortune hangar at the airport in two hours—I’ll write down the directions for you—and you can be at the ranch in time for dinner.”

She withdrew a pad and pen from her handbag, quickly jotted some instructions, then tore the slip of paper off and handed to Renee. “And, Renee,” she added with a sweet smile, “do enjoy yourself, dear.”

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