Maggie took the bowl with a wrenching motion that slopped some of the broth over onto her bedclothes. “When I married one of the richest men in Australia,” she said testily, “I expected better things to eat than a chicken’s bathwater.”

Reeve grinned. “Did you, now? Pity. It’s a steady diet of bathwater from here on out, though we’ll try to vary the meat. Sometimes we’ll dip a kangaroo into the pot, now and then a wombat.”

Maggie was trying to frown, but she didn’t succeed. A sheepish grin curved her mouth. “Have I been too impossible?”

“Much. I’ve never believed in beating women,” Reeve joked, “but I may take it up.”

“Lay a hand on me, Reeve McKenna,” Maggie retorted cockily, “and I’ll skin you with a paring knife.”

He laughed. “It’s good to have you back, Yank,” he said hoarsely.

She looked toward the window, which was aglare with the light of the fierce Queensland sun. “Have the others gone?”

“Eleanor went on with Duncan to get the house ready. Cora is still here, looking after Elisabeth.”

Maggie sighed, and the sound was forlorn. She clearly wasn’t used to staying in bed while life went on without her. “I never get sick, you know,” she said. “Even on the ship out from England I was up and around every day, while most of the others lolled in their berths.”

“Lazy no-gooders,” Reeve commiserated, hiding a grin. “I suppose if they weren’t in bed, they were hanging over the rail.”

Maggie nodded quite soberly. “It was disgusting,” she said.

Reeve couldn’t help laughing. “You’re an arrogant chit, do you know that?”

She lifted her stubborn little Yankee chin, and at that moment Reeve had no doubt what he felt for this woman: It was love, pure and simple and dizzying in its scope. “I was merely recounting circumstances as they happened,” she said.

Reeve restrained his mirth. “Of course,” he said primly. “If we ever take a sea voyage, Mrs. McKenna, I’m sure you’ll acquit yourself in a heroic manner.”

Maggie’s silvery eyes widened. “You’d do that?” she whispered. “Take a sea voyage after what happened to you?”

She clearly didn’t intend to have any more of the broth, and Reeve took it away, lest she spill it. “I won’t go after a whale again,” he said seriously. “They’re magnificent creatures, Maggie, too special to be made into lamp oil and corset stays.”

Her small hand crept out to cover his. “It was the whaling that made you rich, wasn’t it?”

Reeve nodded. “Aye, but its time is past. From now on I’ll be a gentleman farmer and invest my money in sheep or something.”

Instantly, Maggie lowered her eyes, and Reeve knew she was thinking of Jamie.