“You’re kidding me! I can’t even hang Christmas lights? Who are you people? Long-lost descendants of Ebenezer Scrooge? I read through every one of those rules and I didn’t see a single one prohibiting holiday decoration.”

“It’s under outdoor adornments.”

“I assumed that meant statues and fountains and stuff.”

“It does, but it also applies to anything that is affixed or positioned in a way that detracts from the uniform beauty of the residence.”

“What did you do, memorize the rule book from cover to cover?” When he didn’t answer, her eyes narrowed with suspicion. “You wrote it, didn’t you?”

“Guilty as charged. Now please do as you’re told and get down.”

“I don’t think so,” she muttered.

Despite her denial, she climbed down the ladder. Not because he told her to. Because she needed to move it a few feet to the right. She would have loved to see his face as she ignored his orders, but she was too busy stomping right back up to work on the next section.

“Merry...” he drawled, an edge of impatience in his voice.

She ignored it and went on grumbling. “Christmas lights don’t detract from the beauty of anything. I have always had lights, and nothing is going to change that. What are you going to do, arrest me for having Christmas spirit?”

When she stretched to attach the next hook, a loud crack echoed through the crisp, December air.

“Get down now,” he repeated in warning. But too late.

The rung she stood on didn’t break, but it gave several inches, knocking her off-balance. She grabbed for something, anything, to keep from falling, but the fistful of String-A-Long lights wasn’t up to the job. It slid through her gloved hand as she pitched to the side.

“Reese!” she squealed in alarm while preparing for a painful landing in the barberry bush below her.

She let go of the useless ladder and grabbed for the gutter. Unfortunately, it pulled away from the house. Hanging on by her fingers, she kicked her legs wildly, trying to gain purchase on the side of the house, but she couldn’t find a toehold. She panicked until powerful arms encircled her thighs.

“Let go. I’ve got you.”

Hesitantly, she released her grip, immediately clamping her hands onto his head and shoulders as he carried her away from the house and briar bushes. Her palms felt like they had rope burns from the lights, and her fingers burned from the gutter’s sharp edges. As soon as her feet touched the ground, she released him, hissing and curling her fingers inward against the sting.

“Let’s see the damage,” he said as he pulled her hands toward him. The skin was raw and bleeding in a few places. “These need to be cleaned up.” He lifted her and carried her to the front door.

“I can do it.”

“Can you? I’m wondering how you make it safely to work every day.”

“That’s not fair. I didn’t know the ladder was old and weak.”

“Good Lord, woman! All you had to do was look at it to tell it came over on the Ark.”

Hurt by his blunt words, tears clogged her throat. “I can walk, you know. There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”

“I know, but you’re bleeding, and I figured this was the quickest way to get you into the house. Where is your first aid kit?”

“Under the sink in the kitchen.”

When he set her down on the counter, she felt like a little girl waiting for her daddy to put a Band-Aid on a boo-boo. She pouted like one, too, when he uncurled her fingers. “Let’s do the right one first, since it’s the worst.”

Sifting through the supplies, he pulled out some antiseptic swabs and bandages.

“When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?”

“I can’t remember.”

He grunted, his disapproval of her answer unmistakable. “You’ll need one. Do you have a regular doctor?”