“And I’m not a ballerina.”

She didn’t seem to have a response to that.

“There’s no point in getting my hands dirty fixing it here,” he noted, lifting the bike by the frame and carrying it to the ATV. “Unless you’re set on riding it the rest of the way.”

“In the dark?”

“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He balanced the bike on the wide front rack, uncoiling a bungee cord to fasten it down. “But it’s up to you.”

“No,” she responded tartly. “I don’t want to ride a bike the rest of the way.”

“You okay?” he asked belatedly, wrapping the cord around the bike frame and hooking the end to the rack. She didn’t appear hurt, but he supposed that should have been the first question out of his mouth. That was a miss.

“I’m fine,” she huffed.

He glanced up, taking a more detailed look at her. “You didn’t fall or anything?”

She shook her head. “The chain came off.” She held up her hands. “I stopped and I tried to put it back on.”

“I can see that.”

“I didn’t just sit down and wait for a knight in shining armor.”

“That’s a relief. Because you got me instead.”

She blinked sheepishly, seeming to remember her own manners. “Thank you,” she offered.

He couldn’t help but grin at her discomfort. “That wasn’t what I was fishing for. But you’re welcome.” The sight of her looking so vulnerable in the vastness of the landscape tightened his chest. “Anytime.”

“I guess these things come in threes.”

“Threes?” He glanced around, wondering if he’d missed something.

“I had that ballet shoe come apart on me,” she offered ruefully, glancing at her ankle. “And I almost took a tumble over some cables near the stage because they were partially hidden by a curtain.”

He sure didn’t like that mental picture. But he kept his tone easy. “You do seem to be accident-prone.”

“Ironic.” She sighed. “Because this time I was purposely attempting to stay out of trouble.”