By the time she reached the country inn where the omnibus would stop, Maggie had worked herself into a miff of puddle-stomping proportions. Her shoes and the hem of her new dress were muddy and wet and her mood was intractable. Even though the innkeeper warranted that it would be a good two hours before the ’bus came and went, Maggie insisted on purchasing her ticket. That done, she sat down in the inn’s cozy lobby to wait. And to silently berate herself for being such a wanton fool.

Muddy to his knees and exultant over Samaritan’s easy win at the races, Reeve strode toward the wagon where he’d spent the most pleasurable night of his life, certain that Maggie would be there.

She wasn’t, nor was that pathetic little case she carried around, virtually all her worldly goods stored inside. Some of Reeve’s exultation faded away.

“Mr. McKenna?” inquired a female voice from the back of the wagon.

Reeve turned to see the young woman who had been Maggie’s companion on board the Victoria. He couldn’t remember her name, if he’d ever known it. “Yes?” he snapped, worried and annoyed.

“Excuse me, sir, but I was ’opin’ you’d seen Maggie in your travels—Maggie Chamberlin?”

Reeve was interested now; he left the wagon to stand facing the girl in the bright sunshine and the mud. “I’m afraid I haven’t,” he said.

The moppet stomped one foot, splashing muddy water everywhere. “Drat that chit—sometimes I wonder why I ’ave ’er for me friend! She’s gone off to the inn at Parramatta, she ’as, lookin’ to catch the early ’bus! And me ’ere, not knowin’ whether she’s been nabbed by bushrangers or what!”

Reeve bit back a smile and glanced toward the sun, gauging its position. It would be a long time before the first omnibus left for Sydney. “Don’t worry, miss—I’ll see that Maggie gets safely home,” he said, and then he took off at a sprint for the pasture where the races had been held.

Maggie spotted the rider at quite a distance. Of course she knew it was Reeve McKenna on the back of that splendid stallion, but the land stretched away from the inn unfettered, which made trying to flee imprudent.

Reaching the inn, Reeve dismounted and tethered the magnificent animal to the hitching rail just to the right of the porch steps. His blue-green eyes were mischievous as they assessed Maggie’s disgruntled person, and his teeth flashed white in a grin. “Going home, Miss Chamberlin? And without so much as a good-bye for your first lover ever?”

Maggie’s temper flared, as did the color in her cheeks. Determined not to let this man guess what an effect he had on her, she hugged herself and turned away, stomping to the far end of the porch.