“Anyway,” Reeve went dutifully on, “the Dingo-men wanted them for wives. The sisters hid under the outcropping of a giant pile of boulders, but their suitors were clever and they built a fire, planning to drive the sisters out into the open. The emus grew long legs so that they could run very fast, but they couldn’t escape the Dingo-men, who pursued them. Finally, they rose into the sky and made themselves into a constellation of stars still called by the name of Seven Sisters.”

Maggie yawned. “What about the Dingo-men? Did they give up?”

Reeve smiled and kissed her forehead. “And shame their gender? Of course not. They took to the sky, too, and became Orion.”

“My goodness,” said Maggie, closing her eyes.

“I love you,” Reeve told her, his own eyes strangely misted over, his throat thick. There were times when his feelings for this troublesome woman-child nearly overwhelmed him.

“Ummm,” Maggie replied, snuggling down into her feather pillow.

Reeve kissed her cheek and went quietly downstairs and across the yard to the kitchen, where his bath was waiting. He chased Goodness and Mercy away, then stripped off his clothes and climbed into the tub. As he washed, he considered the events of the day and wondered if Eleanor Kilgore had been telling the truth when she’d claimed to know Jamie.

There would be time to find that out later; Reeve wasn’t as obsessed with locating his brother now that his life was so full. He remembered the basin shattering against the bedroom door and grinned. Aye, his life was full.

Chapter 24

THE SCENT OF SUGAR SMOKE FILLED MAGGIE’S NOSTRILS from morning till night during the days and weeks to come, as the cane fields were systematically burned off in preparation for harvest. The soil in Queensland was so fertile that two crops could be brought in if the rainfall had been adequate and the Aboriginals were moved to work. That year luck was on the planters’ side.

While Reeve would have preferred his wife to sit back and embroider as she awaited the birth of their child, Maggie worked long hours in the kitchen every day, helping Kala prepare food for the workers. Goodness and Mercy labored alongside the women, getting in the way more than anything, but Maggie tolerated them easily. Eleanor Kilgore was another matter.

She arrived early one morning when the cane was still being burned off, with Duncan and the workers he’d been able to garner. Marching into the kitchen just as if she belonged there, Eleanor took up an apron and tied it around her slender waist.

Maggie, who was peeling potatoes and already suffering from the heat, though it was only half past five, stopped her work to ask pointedly, “What are you doing here?”