“Oh, baloney,” she had retorted. “If I had been kidnapped, don’t you think I might have told the trooper who was in the bathroom with me at the diner?”

“People who are in fear for their lives can exhibit some mighty unusual behavior,” the sheriff explained. “Sometimes they don’t ask for help.”

Olivia would have none of that, either. “In the first place, isn’t it more than a little unusual for a kidnapper to stop at a diner with his captive? And then stick around to walk his horse with five officers chowing down nearby?”

Unable to explain away that part of the scenario, the sheriff had flushed an even darker shade of red and excused himself.

This conversation had taken place just after Olivia and Puddin’ had been placed in this room. A move that had followed a screaming and barking marathon precipitated by the sight of Noah being led into the office in handcuffs.

Olivia whispered to Puddin’, “Those handcuffs were the stupidest move yet.” The dog yapped her agreement.

In the hour since the sheriff had interviewed Olivia and left her alone with an underling at guard by the door, she had imagined Noah in another part of the office being manhandled by big, bubba officers who were determined to get at the truth of her so-called kidnapping.

If Noah had been harmed in any way, she was going to make sure he received a handsome settlement. In fact, he deserved something even if he had not been harmed. As domineering and pushy as he had been, he had also tried to help her. She had repaid him by getting him in trouble, just as he had said she would. Maybe she really was the spoiled, thoughtless little child he had accused her of being.

She flushed with shame. Maybe it was time she faced some hard truths about herself.

She still couldn’t believe her father had reported her kidnapped. It spoke to his money and influence that he had been able to convince the authorities to put out such a bulletin. There had been no sign of struggle at their home. No ransom demand. Nothing but her father’s paranoia and his ability to wield his power.

A knock on the door sent Puddin’ scurrying under a chair and snapped Olivia out of her reverie. The guard poked his head in. “Your father’s coming, Miss Franklin. He coptered in from Austin.” The young officer looked so impressed with this news that Olivia wanted to smack him.

After he closed the door, she began counting down the minutes until the storm would hit the building. She was nearing seven when she heard the shouting in the hall. Puddin’ barked and jumped into Olivia’s lap. Then the door slammed open, and her father strode in, his face a thundercloud. In the hall outside, Olivia glimpsed two of the “suits.”

“Dear Lord in Heaven,” her father said, crossing the small space to where she sat, elbows propped on a scarred wooden table. “Why have they got you locked in like this?”

“Probably because I threatened to punch one of the officers in the nose.”

Roger Franklin’s normally florid complexion paled. “Now why did you do that?”

“Because this whole thing is a stupid mess. There was no reason, absolutely no reason at all, for me or Noah Raybourne to be hauled in like common criminals.”

“I thought Raybourne had taken you.”

“That’s crap and you know it.”

Her father went stiff with shock. Olivia had never spoken to him like this in her life. Even when she had been pushing hardest for independence, she had reserved her shouting and tears for later, when she was alone in her room or with Mary to comfort her. But she was tired of the civility that had netted her a big, fat zero. Maybe it was time to change.

She pushed back her chair and stood with her dog in her arms. “I want you to get Noah and that sheriff in here.”

Her father’s face darkened. “Now you just listen here, Olivia Kay—”

“I’m not talking to you unless they’re in here!” Olivia shouted. Puddin’ growled.

Roger glared at Olivia for what felt like a full minute, obviously expecting her to back down. She stood her ground. He made an impatient gesture to the “suits,” who disappeared.

A moment or two ticked past in silence while her father took a seat at the table and studied her through narrowed eyes. “I don’t know what in the world has gotten into you.”

“Don’t you think it’s about time I grew up?”

“This isn’t grown-up,” he shot back. “Running off like this on your wedding day is the mark of immaturity and recklessness, the sort of behavior I thought you were through with a long time ago.”

“Would you listen to yourself? You talk to me as if I’m twelve years old.”

“If that’s the way you act…”

Puddin’ gave a welcoming bark, and Olivia looked up to see Noah standing in the doorway, the sheriff behind him.

She took a step toward Noah. “I am so sorry about all this.”

Her father got up and came toward Noah, as well. “Yes, Raybourne, I apologize, too. I’m sorry my daughter’s foolish escapade resulted in this mess. I don’t know why she acted so stupidly.”

Olivia flushed crimson at her father’s words, feeling like a disobedient child caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

Noah started to say something but was cut off when the sheriff pushed past him and into the room. “All right, now. Everyone just settle down.” He scowled at the two “suits” who crowded in behind Noah. “You two, you get out of here.”

“My men—” Roger began.

“Can wait outside,” the sheriff said with quiet force. After the “suits” reluctantly obeyed, he gestured for Noah to take a seat along the wall, opposite the table where Roger Franklin sat and Olivia stood.

The officer ran a hand through his thinning hair and sent a frown around the room. “From what I can determine, this is a family matter that had been blown up all out of proportion.” He nodded at Noah. “Mr. Raybourne, you are free to go, with our apologies for any inconvenience.”

Noah got to his feet. “That’s all right, Sheriff. I understand you were just trying to do your job. Something that’s not always easy when rich, spoiled brats are involved.”

The contempt in his gaze caused a peculiar stab of pain in Olivia’s chest. “I am really so sorry,” she said again. “I know those words are inadequate for what you’ve gone through today. Dealing with me. Facing down a bunch of overexcited police officers. Getting dragged in here in handcuffs. Nothing I can say can make up for all that, but I hope you realize I am truly, truly sorry.”

Noah did not reply, but Olivia thought she detected a softening in his expression. She wasn’t sure why it felt so important for him not to hate her.

Roger cleared his throat impatiently and withdrew his checkbook. “I want to show you my gratitude, Raybourne.”

“That’s not necessary,” Noah retorted, his jaw squaring.

“But I insist.” Roger took out a pen and filled out the check with a flourish. “Raybourne, I’m sure your little operation will benefit from this.”

Noah went still at the word “little.” Olivia wasn’t really surprised when he shook his head at the check her father proffered.

“I can’t take it,” Noah said. “I don’t expect to be paid for helping out someone in trouble.”

“Yes, but Olivia wasn’t really in trouble,” Roger replied, still holding out the check. “She was simply being a brat, as you said.”

Noah sent Olivia a look that she couldn’t quite decipher. “She was pretty desperate to get away.”

Roger laid the check on the table and recapped his pen. “She didn’t really want to get away. She was just overwhelmed by the wedding.”

“I didn’t want the wedding,” Olivia said.

Her father shot a long-suffering smile toward the sheriff. “You don’t mean that.”

Anger thickened Olivia’s voice. “I’m sick and tired of being told what I want, what I should do and think and feel. It’s way past time that I started thinking and acting on my own. I should be on my own.”