Jamie shrugged, though there was a shadow of misery in his eyes. “Just the same. You’ll have to be more careful once I leave, snippet, because my brother is in no shape to be pulling you out of fixes.”

Maggie leaned forward. “Once you leave? Jamie, you’re not going, are you?”

Jamie gazed out at the lights of Sydney for a few moments before answering. His voice was hoarse. “I have to, Maggie-girl. I have a property of my own—I told you that.”

“In New Zealand,” Maggie confirmed despondently.

Jamie nodded.

A despairing sort of curiosity overtook Maggie. “Why have you been hiding from Reeve all these years when you must have known how badly he wanted to find you?”

Jamie sighed. “You’re not going to leave me alone until I answer, I suppose?”

“That’s right,” Maggie replied.

Unexpectedly, Jamie unbuttoned the cuff of his right shirt-sleeve and began rolling it up. Even in the dim light from the streetlamps, Maggie could see the jagged scar that covered his forearm.

Maggie gasped, touching the mark with tentative fingers. “What happened?”

“Reeve.”

Maggie’s heart stopped beating and then started again. “Are you saying that your own brother did that to you?”

Jamie nodded, rolling the sleeve back down, buttoning the cuff in a methodical way that made Maggie want to scream with impatience. Finally, his answer came. “He had his reasons, love. And he didn’t know that the man who jumped him in a back street in Brisbane was me. He was only defending himself, and he did a right proper job of it.”

“Why would you attack Reeve, of all people?” “Didn’t know it was him at the time. I meant to rob him, Maggie. I wasn’t the same man I am today.”

Maggie reached across the carriage seat to take one of Jamie’s hands in her own. “Reeve probably doesn’t even remember the incident, Jamie—and even if he did, I know he would forgive you.”

“You may think that, but I’m not so sure,” Jamie answered distractedly. “Reeve can be a hard man, Maggie. And I’d rather have him looking for me than hating me for what I used to be.”

Maggie lowered her eyes. “Jamie, he’s been searching for you for twenty years. He almost didn’t forgive me when he found out I’d seen you and told him nothing about it.”

“Like I said, Reeve can be hard.” There was a finality in his tone, a stubbornness as ungiving as Reeve’s.

“He loves you!”

“And I’d like to keep it that way.”

Maggie sighed. “Jamie,” she began again reasonably. “He’s been with you in New Zealand. He’ll know where to find you.”

“He’ll never remember,” Jamie said, and Maggie had a terrible feeling that he was right.