“There are snakes out here,” he commented, falling into step beside her.

The cane rustled and raised a sugary smell as Maggie marched onward. “And I was wondering what to give Eleanor for Christmas,” she muttered sarcastically.

Reeve grasped Maggie’s arm at the elbow and stopped her progress, spinning her around so that she came bumping up against his chest. He laughed and entangled his fingers in her falling-down hair. “What is it that’s got you in such a fuss, Maggie?” he demanded with a grin.

Maggie considered telling him, but she could guess what would happen if she did. Reeve would either think that she was exaggerating or he would send Eleanor on her way—to Duncan’s nearby house. “Are there really snakes here?” she asked, hedging.

Reeve nodded, and, except for his eyes, which were still dancing, his expression was serious. “Don’t be wandering off on your own again, Maggie. It isn’t safe.”

Unable to bear a reprimand then, Maggie bit her lower lip and fought back tears. “Sometimes I don’t think there’s anyplace in the world that’s safe,” she said sadly.

Reeve touched her nose and his voice was gentle and hoarse with concern. “Yank, what is it? What’s troubling you?”

Maggie brightened because she had to; she meant to fight for this man she loved with every resource that she possessed. She smiled and twisted her hips mischievously against Reeve’s, then went bounding through the towering sugar cane at a dead run, her laughter ringing out like music behind her.

“Come back here!” Reeve yelled furiously. “I wasn’t kidding about those snakes!”

Maggie ran until she reached the edge of the cane field; there, she stopped, breathless. The sea was spread out before her in all its splendor, lapping, crystal-blue, at the white sands. “Thunderation,” she whispered, stricken by the beauty of the place.

Then, hearing Reeve storming through the cane behind her, Maggie skidded down the short hillside to the beach and turned to watch her husband’s descent, her hands on her hips, her face shining with mischief. At that magical moment it was as though there were no Eleanors in the world, and no Lorettas; Maggie had found her safe place.

“I ought to turn you across my knee!” Reeve raged, his nose an inch from Maggie’s.

“But you won’t,” she chimed, her hands caught together behind her back, “because I’m pregnant.”

“You’re right,” Reeve confessed, looking both exasperated and disappointed. He ran one hand through his dark hair and muttered a curse word, and Maggie laughed, taking his muscular arms in her hands.

“This is paradise!” she crowed, catching Reeve’s hand in hers and dragging him toward what appeared to be a cove, sheltered by rocks and towering trees, just down the beach.