Free Bolted by Meg Benjamin

course, Allie hadn’t had to go off with him. She really hadn’t.
    After a shower, which did nothing to cool her off, and some minimal makeup, Sophie headed down to the kitchen to make breakfast for Greta and herself. Being angry was no excuse not to provide food. And she had a feeling she’d soon have more visitors to contend with, some of whom might possibly want coffee. Not that she’d really want to give them any. She swore if anybody brought her a casserole, she’d throw it in the street.
    She paused, taking a quick mental survey of her mood. Angry, yes. Sad? Down? Ready to sink back into darkness again? She blew out a long breath, then shook her head. Nope. Angry was it.
    Now that it was morning she also wanted to talk to Greta. Because she was also somewhat miffed at her daughter, although not as miffed as she was at her son and his erstwhile fiancée. Greta really should have come back home after the ceremony to help deal with the fallout. She should have stood shoulder to shoulder with her mother as the town gossips descended, talons bared.
    Her first responsibility, after all, was to her family. But then responsibility had never been Greta’s strong point. Nor had common sense. Greta seemed to spend her life rushing from one disaster to the next.
    As it was, Sophie’s only support had been Owen, Allie’s father, who’d stayed with her through the worst of the visitors and then taken her to dinner two towns over, where none of the wedding guests had been around.
    In fact, if it hadn’t been for Owen… Sophie sighed. At least she and Owen shared a common disaster, although they’d both been looking forward to sharing a married son and daughter. And it certainly wasn’t Owen’s fault that Allie had panicked. With any luck, the girl would come to her senses and come back to Promise Harbor.
    Assuming, of course, that Josh would take her back. Sophie wasn’t at all sure about that one. And to tell the truth, she wasn’t sure he should. Not after that wedding disaster.
    She turned on the coffee, then stepped back out into the hall again. “Greta,” she called. “Breakfast.”
    She had half a mind to let Greta do the cooking to make up for her absence yesterday. Let her put that fancy culinary school degree to work for once. Instead of wasting it as Ryan McBain’s wife. Sophie doubted Ryan and Greta ever ate at home, given all the social events Ryan attended as part of his job. And Ryan hadn’t seemed as interested in Greta’s skills in the kitchen as the rest of the family had been.
    His loss. Greta really was a wonderful cook. Not that Sophie had ever admitted it openly before, given that culinary school had been another of Greta’s impulsive decisions.
    “Greta,” she called again, louder this time. She glanced at the clock. Eight thirty. Surely the girl couldn’t have been out late enough last night to justify sleeping in. Particularly not on a day that gave every indication of being just as annoying as yesterday had been. She turned back to stomp up the stairs. Might as well vent some of her frustration on her daughter before she had to pull herself together to greet the nosy neighbors.
    She knocked briskly on Greta’s bedroom door. “Greta, time to get up,” she called. Without waiting for an answer, she twisted the knob and leaned into the bedroom.
    The empty bedroom. Greta’s bed was still neatly made, no evidence that she’d slept in it at all last night. Sophie stepped to the door of the guest bathroom, although she really had no hope Greta was in there.
    She stood in the doorway for a moment, gritting her teeth. Just like Greta. When faced with a nasty situation, take off. Sophie tried to think who among Greta’s friends might be in town, who she might be staying with.
    She sighed. She really hadn’t been paying much attention to Greta over the past few days, what with the wedding to plan and then the disaster to cope with. She had no idea what her daughter might do or where she