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you'd just been trampled beneath a team of six.”
    “Worse. I just had another encounter with your little protégée.”
    “Madeline?” Julia frowned in concern. “What happened?”
    Grimly he told her about the scene in the carpentry shop. Instead of reacting with the concern and dismay he expected, Julia seemed to find the story vastly entertaining.
    “Poor Logan,” she said, laughing. “No wonder you're in an ill temper. Well, you can't blame Maddy.”
    “Can't I?” he asked sourly.
    “It's only her first day. It will take some time for her to find her footing around here.”
    “Her first day,” Logan said, “and her last. I want her gone, Julia. I mean it.”
    “I simply don't understand why you find Madeline Ridley so objectionable.” Julia settled back in her chair with a speculative expression that infuriated Logan.
    “She's a green girl who knows nothing about the theater.”
    “We were all green at one time,” Julia replied, and gave him a glance of gentle mockery. “Everyone except you, of course. You must have sprung from the womb knowing everything about the stage—”
    “She doesn't belong here,” Logan interrupted. “Even you can't argue that point.”
    “Perhaps not,” she conceded. “But Madeline is a sweet, intelligent young woman who has obviously landed in some sort of trouble. I want to help her.”
    “The only way to help her is to send her back where she came from.”
    “What if she's run away from a dangerous situation? Aren't you the least bit concerned? Even curious?”
    “No.”
    Julia sighed in exasperation. “If Madeline doesn't work here, who knows what circumstances she'll find herself in? I'll pay her salary out of my own pocket, if you prefer.”
    “We're not running a charity, damn you!”
    “I need an assistant,” Julia said. “I have needed one for quite some time. Madeline is exactly what I require. Why does that pose such a problem for you?”
    “Because she…” Logan closed his mouth abruptly. The problem was, the girl bothered him for reasons he didn't understand. Perhaps it was because she was so ridiculously open and unguarded…the antithesis of his own nature. She made him damned uncomfortable, reminding him of everything he didn't want to be, of all the things he had struggled to change in himself. However, he wasn't about to provide such information for Julia's entertainment. It had always irked her that he managed his life and his emotions with apparent ease.
    “Logan,” Julia said impatiently, failing to read his thoughts in the silence, “you must be able to offer some explanation.”
    “The fact that she's a clumsy fool should be enough.”
    Julia's mouth fell open. “Everyone has an occasional accident. It's not like you to be so petty!”
    “I say she goes, and I'll hear no more about it.”
    “Then you be the one to dismiss her. I'm sure I would choke on the words.”
    “I'll have no such problem,” Logan informed her. “Where is she?”
    “I sent her to help Mrs. Lyttleton with the costumes,” Julia snapped, turning away from him to riffle through a pile of papers on her desk.
    Logan left Julia's office, determined to find the girl immediately. The costume shop was located in a building set a small distance from the others, as it constituted more of a fire hazard than any other part of the theater. There was a better chance of containing a fire there and preventing the rest of the Capital from burning.
    Mrs. Lyttleton was a cheerful mountain of a woman topped with a pile of brown curls. Her massive hands moved with dexterity as she created the most exquisite costumes seen on any stage. She employed a half-dozen girls to help in the task of sewing and maintaining the huge collection of garments that filled rack after rack. The look of a production at the Capital Theatre was uniquely lavish, and the actors and audience alike were aware that no expense had been spared to create the effect.
    “Mr. Scott,” the seamstress said