Beloved Counterfeit (10 page)

“Surely you’re joking.” A change from irritation to fear crossed her features. “Unhand me, or I’ll scream.”

“No, you won’t.” Emboldened by her lack of commitment to the claim, he leaned forward. “And soon as you listen to what I’m about to promise you, I’ll not only let you go, but I’ll leave you be and not bother you for any more free lunches. How’s that?”

Her only response was to blink.

“All right, I’ll have to take that as a yes.” He let out a long breath and made himself look into her eyes. “You’re something special, Ruby O’Shea, and until today, I didn’t realize just how much you don’t know that. That man, that. . .Frenchman. . .you let him speak about you in a way that. . .”

Anger got the best of him, and for a minute, all Micah could do was try to breathe. “What I’m trying to say is you should never let anyone treat you like that.”

She opened her mouth to protest, and he shook his head to silence her. “Don’t argue, Ruby. Now I don’t know who this Jean Luc fellow is to you, nor do I care. What I do know is if I had a woman like you, I’d never let anyone treat her poorly nor speak ill of her.”

If I had a woman like you. . .

The words hung in the sea-scented air between them.

For the first time, it occurred to him that he might have a woman like her. That he might have her. He’d entertained the thought in passing, for sure, but until now, he’d not actually given it serious thought.

Here he stood, still in the boardinghouse kitchen, yet he felt as if he’d been hit by a bolt out of the blue. Micah looked away, suddenly realizing that Ruby had slid from his grasp to hurry back to her cooking.

If I had a woman like you. . .

He watched her move, noted the sway of her braid as it teased the center of her back, the set of her jaw as she took to her work. Something inside him went a notch off kilter, and he had to find the stool and land on it quick.

If I had a woman like you. . .

“Ruby?” he called, working to bring some sort of normal sound to his voice.

She paused to regard him. “What is it?”

“That promise I said I’d make?”

Ruby turned back to her work. “What of it?”

“I intend to make it before God and everyone.”

She looked at him like the crazy man he was. Micah thought she might say something, likely comment on his fool talk. Instead, she shrugged and went back to the business of cooking.

In a moment, she reached for a plate and slid the contents of the skillet onto it. “It’s the best I could do,” she said as she passed him without looking and set the plate on the farthest corner of the dining room table. “Best eat it before it gets cold.”

“I’ll see he doesn’t bother you, Ruby,” he said when she returned. “You’ll be safe here.”

That did it. She froze then slowly turned to face him. This time it was she who caught him by the arm.

“Nothing makes me madder than a man who boasts about something when he has no idea what he’s talking about.” She lifted his hand and shook it in his face. “These fists of yours won’t stop a bullet, Micah Tate, and they certainly won’t keep me and the girls safe when Jean Luc and his men come back and slit our throats in our beds.”

He wrapped his free hand over hers. “It will if I’m in the bed with you, Ruby.”

She slapped him. Hard.

Before he realized what happened, Ruby O’Shea was out the door and halfway down the street.

“No,” he called after her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I want to marry you.”

Chapter 12

Well, that did it. Ruby whirled around and the madman nearly slammed into her. “Leave me alone, Mr. Tate. I’ve had enough trouble for one day without enduring more.”

“I’m trying to remedy that, Miss Ruby.”

The wrecker almost looked sincere. For a second, she considered what it might be like to wed a man like Micah Tate. Yet even as she thought on what might be a life of respectability, she remembered what others thought of Papa.

“I’ve no need of your remedy.” She turned her back and marched toward town, knowing her pride had gotten the better of her. Where she’d go, Ruby had no idea, for where she needed to be was back at the boardinghouse, awaiting the girls’ return and preparing for the evening meal.

While the beach beckoned, she figured Micah Tate would only follow. The last thing she needed was a repeat of this morning’s humiliating scene. No, she’d walk all the way around the island before she’d make that mistake again.

“Please wait,” Micah called, but the plea only caused her to walk faster.

Up ahead, she spied Viola Dumont. The always-friendly midwife appeared to be rushing off somewhere, for she responded to Ruby’s call with only a quick wave.

Ruby caught up easily. “Might I walk with you?”

“I’m afraid I can’t visit today,” she said. “Mrs. Vincent’s in need of me.”

“Might I accompany you?” Ruby cast a glance over her shoulder to find that the wrecker continued to follow, though at a distance.

Viola glanced at her as they turned the corner and headed for the docks. “Why the sudden interest?”

“Well,” Ruby said as she searched for an answer, “I figured there might be times when you would need some help with doctoring the ladies.”

“We have a doctor,” she said.

“Oh yes, well, of course.” Micah turned the corner, and Ruby suppressed a frown. “I’ve done some doctoring,” she blurted out.

And she had, though likely not the same sort Viola or the doctor practiced. While they cared for civilized folk, Ruby had often been pressed into service to remove pieces of grapeshot or to sew up a knife wound. She’d not been particularly good at either, but with no one else willing, the role was cast upon her.

None of this would she tell Viola Dumont, however, at least not in detail.

Word was, Miss Dumont came from quality. Her papa was some sort of New Orleans rich man. Why she landed here on the key was a story shrouded in mystery, but the reason she’d stayed wasn’t: Viola Dumont was crazy in love with the town doctor. Unfortunately, the fool man seemed to be the only one who couldn’t see it.

“Might I ask a question?” Ruby said.

Viola shifted her bag to the other arm then shrugged. “I suppose.”

Wonderful.
Now she had to think of something to ask. “How does one become a midwife?”

Another glance. “Why? Are you thinking of taking my job?”

Ruby giggled. “Oh, my, no. Of course not. It’s just that I was—”

“Trying to avoid talking to Micah Tate?” Viola’s wink gave her humor away.

“I might be,” she said.

“As it happens, I may have need of an extra set of hands. Unless I miss my guess, there may be two babies this time instead of just one.”

Ruby smiled. “Now twins are something I know more than a little about.”

By the time they turned into the front yard of the Vincent home, Micah looked to have given up on following her. Ruby remained with Viola, however, long enough to rock Mrs. Vincent’s newborn daughter while Viola examined the infant son and then handed him over as well.

“The babies are small but healthy,” Viola said. “I’ll just go and see to their mama now.” She looked down at Ruby’s armful of babies then leaned forward. “Are you sure you don’t mind?” she asked softly. “The Vincent girls are a bit small to help, and their papa is hopeless.”

She stole a glance at the rest of the Vincent family, four girls of stair-stepped ages and their ashen-faced father, now gathered at the long dining table eating in silence. The irony was that Mr. Vincent seemed to have built the furniture with the idea of filling the two benches on each side with a multitude of little Vincents. From what Ruby observed, he did not look to have the ability to last through even one more birth, much less the half dozen it would take to complete the group.

“It’s my pleasure,” Ruby said. Holding the infants put Ruby in mind of Carol and Maggie. How long ago had she held them like this? Ruby noted the babies’ dark hair and thought of how fair the girls’ hair had been in contrast. “Soft as down,” she whispered as she allowed the memories to flood her mind.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to give them back now,” Viola called from the bedchamber door.

Ruby rose and reluctantly handed the children back to the midwife, then bade Mr. Vincent and his brood good day.

A moment later, Viola appeared on the porch. “Precious little ones,” the midwife said. “And thankfully healthy. A blessing, as multiples often don’t fare as well.”

For lack of a suitable answer, Ruby nodded. Indeed, she knew this to be true.

As she walked with Viola toward town, Ruby cast the occasional glance about to search for signs of Micah Tate. Thankfully, she found none.

Just beyond the mercantile, she made to turn toward the church, where Tess was likely overstaying her welcome. “Wait,” Viola called. “Don’t go so quickly.” When Ruby turned around, Viola smiled. “You did a great job with the Vincent twins.”

“Thank you,” Ruby said. “I do love babies.”

“Well, you should,” Viola replied with a grin. “You had three of them.”

“Yes.” Ruby nodded, though she felt sick inside. “I suppose so.” She took a few steps toward home before Viola called to her again.

“I was just wondering,” Viola said when Ruby glanced back at her. “About Micah Tate.”

“You’re not the only one,” she muttered.

The midwife shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you.”

Ruby looked around before closing the distance between them. “Can I trust you with a question?” Somehow she knew she could even before Viola nodded. “I wonder if you know what it’s like to turn things over to God. What I mean is, have you ever—”

“Given my life to Him?” Viola nodded. “Yes, though I’m still learning how that works.”

“How long has it been since. . .” Ruby paused to consider her words. “That is, did it take awhile for the Lord to start speaking to you?”

Viola leaned against the gate and seemed to consider the question. “I suppose He spoke to me all along. It did take me awhile before I figured out how to be quiet enough to hear Him. Why?”

Ruby shrugged. “No particular reason,” she said.

“I see.” Viola nodded. “Now it’s my turn. What does all of this have to do with Micah Tate?”

Ruby sighed. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

“He’s a good man, Ruby,” Viola said. “If it weren’t for him, well. . .I’d likely not be here, and neither would Emilie and Isabelle. He and the wreckers saved us off the reef.”

“Seems like a lot of people come to the key that way.” Ruby thought of her own arrival on Fairweather Key then shrugged away the memory. “I just wonder,” she said, choosing her words carefully, “if a man like Micah Tate’s any match for the criminal element. You know, the smugglers and such.”

“The smugglers and such?” Viola echoed. “Well, I’d have to say I’ve not seen our island plagued by anyone of that ilk.” She leaned conspiratorially toward Ruby. “Why? Do you know something I don’t?”

“I, well, that is, I just wonder about a man’s, well. . .his penchant for violence, especially if he’s used his fists in front of you.”

Viola’s eyes went wide, and she clutched Ruby to her side. “Come inside now.”

The midwife propelled Ruby through the door and into a world that smelled of cleanliness, of flowers, and of the ever-present sea air. While Viola dropped her things on a lovely tapestry-covered chair, Ruby could only stand still and wait.

“Come in here and have a cup of tea,” she said. “We’ve got some things to discuss, I’m certain.”

“Things to discuss? No, really, I can’t leave the boardinghouse for more than a few minutes.” Yet she’d done just that—and then some.

If Viola saw through the flimsy excuse, she had the kindness not to say so. “All right,” she said. “Then perhaps you’d allow me to ask something personal. You have my word anything said will never leave this room.”

“Perhaps,” was the best Ruby could do.

She nodded and walked to the window to push back the lace curtains and peer outside. In profile, Viola Dumont looked like some sort of royalty, so straight was her posture and so fine her features. None save those who knew her would think the woman had come from examining a new mother rather than dancing at some fancy ball.

When she turned to face Ruby, however, her expression had gone grim. “You’re afraid of Micah, aren’t you?”

“Afraid?” She had to think only a moment. “A little.”

Viola’s eyes searched Ruby’s face. “With reason?”

That took a bit more concentration. She had reason to fear all men, not just Micah Tate in particular. Yet something about the wrecker sent a different fear coursing through her.

The fear that, should she allow it, he might take the one thing she’d so carefully protected: her heart.

“Ruby?”

“I’m sorry.” She shrugged. “I suppose my reason’s not what you’re thinking. I just don’t believe a man can be that good for that long. In my experience, none have managed it.”

“So this is based on past experience?”

There was a sadness in Viola’s voice that almost sounded like she, too, knew of this kind of thinking. “It might be.” Ruby straightened her spine and let out a long breath. “Yes, past experience.”

Viola lifted her hand to the windowpane then slowly reached to touch her face. For a moment, it seemed as if the midwife were far away. Then abruptly she seemed to return, a lingering sadness on her face.

“I had a fiancé once,” she said softly. “I don’t suppose you knew that.” When Ruby shook her head, Viola responded with a nod. “His name was Andre, and he was Emilie Gayarre’s brother.”

This was news. No wonder the two women were so close. They’d come near to being family.

“He’s dead now,” Viola said, her hand still resting against her cheek.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” She turned to face Ruby, releasing her grip on the curtains then watching them fall together as if that were the most interesting thing she’d seen all day. “Suffice it to say I know what a man’s capable of when provoked. I also know sometimes what provokes a man is a woman who loves him unconditionally.”

“Your man hit you.” The words tumbled out, and even as she heard herself say them, Ruby longed to gather them back up.