The horse breeder still regarded her with open hostility. “I don’t believe this nonsense about running from your father.”

“But it’s true,” Olivia protested, relieved that she didn’t have to lie. “I had to get away from him.”

“He works for Franklin?”

“Yes…in…in the stables,” she prevaricated. “As a trainer.”

“And he hurt you?” An emotion that could have been sympathy flickered across the man’s face.

“Yes, he hurt me.” At least that much wasn’t a lie, Olivia thought. Her father had hurt her.

“But why would you have to hide to get away?”

“My father would never willingly let me go.”

Looking even more suspicious, one of her captor’s hands slipped from her shoulder down her arm, the arm she had fallen on in her escape. Olivia winced and looked down. For the first time she noticed the purple bruise that started just below the hem of her sleeve.

The man saw it, too. Gently he pushed the sleeve up. The bruise stretched from near her elbow to her shoulder.

Muttering a curse, the man dropped her arm and stepped away. “Did your father do this to you?”

“He…he made me fall,” Olivia said. “He pushed you?”

She nodded.

The breeder peered at her again, clearly torn between believing and doubting her story. “How old are you?” he asked at last. “Over eighteen, I imagine.”

“Yes.”

“There’s no reason why you couldn’t just have left.”

“You don’t understand,” she explained, feeling desperate. “My father, he’s…nuts. I was so scared of him, so afraid.”

“You could have told someone. Told Jake or Mr. Franklin.”

She forced out a laugh. “You think a rich, important man like that would care about me?”

“Roger Franklin strikes me as a decent man. He’d care if one of his employees was beating his daughter.”

“Yeah, he’d fire my father, and I’d get blamed.”

“No, you would have gotten help.” The breeder shook his head. “There’s some other reason you’re running.” He took hold of her uninjured arm. “Come on back to the truck. We’re going to find a telephone and call the ranch.”

Olivia struggled to free herself, her eyes filling with tears. In her arms Puddin’ whined. She could not go back. The very fact that they had made it this far meant she had something of a head start.

“Please,” she begged. “Please believe me. I have to get away from my father. I can’t stand it any longer. Please.” Olivia didn’t want to break down completely, but hysteria rose inside her. She fought the sobs and started to tremble.

“Jeez.” The breeder’s forehead creased, and he thrust a hand through wavy, light-brown hair. “You really are scared to death, aren’t you?”

Olivia nodded while Puddin’ licked her trembling chin.

The man stared at her hard for a few moments more while she struggled to bring herself under control. He seemed like a kind person. Handsome in a strong, hard-planed sort of way. Clearly he sympathized with her somewhat, else he would have already hauled her back to the camper and locked her in.

Olivia focused on playing on that sympathy. “I’m so…sorry I hid in your camper. I’m not a thief. I just need a break. Please. Just drive away and leave us here. Please.”

Noah was tempted to do just that. Something told him this young woman wasn’t a thief. But something in her story didn’t strike him as quite right, either. The best thing he could do for himself was get in the truck and drive away.

And that’s exactly what he was going to do.

“You’ve got a deal, little lady. If anybody ever asks me, I’ll tell them I’ve never seen you before.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, toward the truck. “You got anything in the camper?”

“A small bag.”

He swung the door wide open and retrieved a small, and to his admittedly inexperienced eye, expensive-looking tote bag. He thought about searching it for stolen jewelry, but decided he didn’t want to know if she was hiding something. He just wanted to get back on the road.

He rooted in a cooler and found two bottled waters. Outside, he handed everything over to her. “Here you go.”

She swiped at the tears on her cheeks before taking the bag and the water. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I’ve delayed you. You’ve really been so kind.”

Her choice of words didn’t strike Noah as those of a stable hand’s daughter. Determinedly, he slammed the door on his doubts. Giving her a little salute, he went around the trailer to make sure the door was secured. He closed and locked the camper door, as well, then climbed into the truck.

His stowaway had moved just ahead of him on the road, where she struggled to fit the water bottles into her bag while holding on to her dog. She looked small and awkward.

Noah’s conscience pinched him hard.

He leaned out the window. “You be careful.”

“I will,” she shouted back.

He waved. He even started the truck. But he didn’t move.

Ahead of him, she started walking. Her determined strides did nothing to disguise the downright tempting curves of her behind.

“Just let her go,” Noah told his reflection in the mirror.

And leave her and that useless dog alone on this stretch of highway?

“They’ll be just fine.”

If they don’t meet up with a rattlesnake.

“A snake would run the other way.”

But some pervert in a rusted-out pickup just might want a piece of her cute little butt.

Noah closed his eyes for a moment, trying not to think about that bruise on her arm or her tears when she said she’d been hurt by her father. God knew, he understood that kind of pain. He just wished his dear mother had not worked so hard to instill a sense of honor in him. Finally he let out a long breath, eased the truck into drive and leaned out the window, calling, “Hey, come here.”

She hurried up to the window. The hope mingling with fear on her face was more than he could stand.

“All right,” he muttered. “I’ve got this terrible feeling that I’m going to regret this, but here’s what we’re going to do. First, you get in the truck.”

She frowned, as if she didn’t understand him.

“Get in the truck, and at the next town you can catch a bus somewhere.” She gave him a blank look. “You do want to get on a bus or something, don’t you? There was some destination in mind when you set out on this little trip?”

Though she nodded, her expression gave her away.

“She has no idea where she’s going,” he muttered as she came around to the passenger side. “No clue. Just her and that damn dog, tearing off like Dorothy and Toto on the yellow brick road.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed as she climbed in beside him. “I was willing to walk, but this will be so much quicker and easier.”

The dog jumped onto the seat, then leaped up and licked Noah’s cheek.

He groaned. The dog barked and tried for a second lick.

“Just keep the mutt under control,” Noah ordered.

She pulled the dog onto her lap. “Her name’s Puddin’.”

“And your name?”

She hesitated. Briefly. But long enough for Noah to figure she was lying. “Libby. Libby Kay.”

“I’m Noah,” he said, offering a handshake. The hand she placed in his was soft as silk, with nails finely manicured. Not exactly the hands of a working man’s daughter.

“And your last name?” she prompted.

“Gullible as hell,” Noah murmured as he pulled back onto the road. “Just call me gullible as hell.”

“You need to eat.”

Noah’s comment penetrated Olivia’s nervous preoccupation with the other diners in the small restaurant where they had stopped for lunch.

“Eat,” he instructed, as he had done periodically since the waitress had placed the meat loaf-and-three-vegetable special in front of her.

Olivia knew she should be hungry enough to clean her plate, but who could think about food when at any moment a car of “suits” could drive up. She hadn’t wanted to stop at all, but Noah had insisted.