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think him an idiot. And why not? He was one. Trying to fix a stupid flower. What had come over him? Looking around for an escape of any kind, he spied her small purse in the shadow of the building.
    “I’ll . . . uh . . . look for your key.”
    She didn’t say anything, but he could hear the swish of her skirts as she no doubt set about repairing her appearance. He bent over to collect the purse and searched the area around it for the key.
    “Perhaps I should have heeded the wisdom of Proverbs before I allowed my pride to send me stomping up those steps in a huff.” Her self-deprecating chuckle drew his attention away from the weed-strewn ground and back toward her. “You know . . . a haughty spirit goeth before a fall.”
    Her saucy taunts as she’d rushed up the stairs had surely irritated him, but truth be told, he probably shared the blame because of his impatience in the shop. No one had ever accused him of having a silver tongue.
    “I don’t know about the haughty spirit,” he said with a shrug, “but you certainly fell.”
    Full-blown feminine laughter rang out, and the sound lifted his mood.
    “That I did.” She started walking his way, a free-spirited smile bedecking her face.
    J.T. cleared his throat again and returned to his perusal of the ground beneath the staircase. After a moment, he caught a glimmer of reflected light. The key lay beside the broken pieces of what had once been a secure step. He shoved the purse under his arm and picked up the key, along with one of the defective hunks of wood. The thing was rotted through. He frowned. How many other steps had deteriorated?
    Miss Richards slipped up beside him and retrieved the purse and key. “Thank you again, Mr. Tucker. If it weren’t for your quick actions, I would likely have suffered a serious injury.”
    He felt her withdrawal, but he had already started inspecting the other steps and didn’t pay her much mind.
    “I know you’re anxious to return to the livery,” she said, “so I’ll get the door unlocked in a trice.”
    She was halfway to the top when her meaning finally sank into his distracted brain.
    “Get down from there, woman, before you take another tumble!” His words came out sharper than he’d intended, but fear for her safety had ignited his temper. That and the fact that when he raised his head from his stooped position under the stairs to call out to her, he got another eyeful of stockings and petticoats.
    “Don’t worry, Mr. Tucker. I’m not stomping this time, and I’ve a firm grip on the railing. I’ll be fine.”
    Gritting his teeth, J.T. strode out from under the steps and glared up at the stubborn woman whom he had earlier mistaken for intelligent.
    “The wood from that broken step is rotten. There might be others ready to give way, as well.”
    Her eyes narrowed and the skin around her lips drew taut. “Thank you for your concern, but if they held me the first time, there’s no reason to believe they won’t do so now.”
    “What if you weakened them the first time?” He crossed his arms and raised a brow in challenge. Just because the steps he had checked so far had turned out to be sound didn’t mean the remaining ones wouldn’t cause a problem.
    The woman deliberately took another step before answering him, her chin angled toward the sky. “You need not treat me like a child, sir. I am perfectly capable of navigating this staircase on my own.”
    He snorted.
    Her nostrils flared. “I promise not to ask you to catch me again, all right? Now stop scowling.”
    Of course he did no such thing.
    Those deep blue eyes of hers shot sparks at him, and he had to work to keep his expression stern. The woman was a firecracker.
    “Tell you what,” she huffed, “if I fall, you have my permission to gloat as much as you like. How about that?”
    Without waiting for his answer, she spun around and marched the remainder of the distance to the top, stretching her stride to span the gulf over the missing