Beloved Counterfeit (18 page)

“Yes,” Micah said, “it is, but I am doing the talking, remember?”

She covered her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered.

“Ruby, you’re brilliant. That thing you said about
Robinson Crusoe
? It was everything I wanted to say and more.” He grabbed a handful of sermon notes and crumpled them. “You’re the one who should be preaching on Sunday, not me.”

At this, Ruby laughed. She couldn’t help it. “Oh my, that’s a good one.” She leveled a direct stare at the man who now stood strangely still. “Do you have any idea what kind of woman I was?”

Micah waved away her statement. “Don’t you see, Ruby? It doesn’t matter. That’s the old you.”

She ignored his look of warning and pressed on. “You don’t even know the half of what I’ve done. How can you say that?”

“I’ve done things, too, Ruby. Things I’m not proud of.” Micah faltered a moment before giving the answer he knew in his mind—if not completely in his heart—to be true. “But they’re in the past.”

Even as he said the words, Micah wondered what sort of things this hardworking mother of three might have done. Sins of gossip or envy perhaps, though he could barely conjure up those.

“Ruby,” he said just as he decided it, “there’s nothing I need to know.” He shook his head. “That’s not completely true. I need to know if you’ll allow me to use what you said about
Robinson Crusoe
.”

He couldn’t tell if she was relieved or confused. “Is that all?”

Micah glanced at the clock and noted the late hour. Too late to rouse the judge. “For tonight, yes.”

As Micah reached to gather his things, Ruby stood. “Nothing else?” she asked.

“No,” he said. “Nothing else.”

Did he detect disappointment? Micah suppressed a smile as he stuck his notes into the Bible and moved toward the door. With Ruby a half step behind him, Micah got all the way to the door before stopping to turn around.

Was that a hopeful look? Likely he only imagined it, yet it emboldened him.

To his delight, she barely missed falling into him. “Actually,” he said as he caught Ruby by the arm and righted her, “there is one more thing.”

“Oh?” she asked, eyes wide.

Again he checked the clock. If only the time hadn’t slid past so quickly. He’d spend yet another night keeping watch and another day glancing toward the white house on the hill far more than he ought.

“Yes.” Micah released her then watched Ruby rub her arm where he’d touched her. “Might I borrow the book? I don’t own a copy of
Robinson Crusoe
.”

Ruby turned to fetch the novel, and Micah followed. “Ruby O’Shea,” he called. “I’ve changed my mind. It’s you I want, not the book. Is tonight the night you finally say you’ll marry me?”

She hid her face behind the leather volume, but only for a moment. Unfortunately, he learned too soon that what the book hid was not a smile. “There are things about me you need to know, Mr. Tate,” she said. “Things I must tell you before you decide to take on the girls and me.”

“Ruby,” he said as he removed the book from her arms and gathered her to him. “There’s time for that. But not tonight.”

“No?”

“No,” he said, “and once again, you haven’t answered my question. I owe you protection, Ruby O’Shea, and I think you’d make a fine wife. Will you marry me?”

• * * *
  

“The cad! He’ll not get away with this.” Remy pounded his fist into the arm of the chair.

Viola jumped. “Really, you don’t have to resort to violence,” she said as she felt her hands begin to shake. “I’m fine, truly.”

She wasn’t, though Viola would never let her brother know that Dan Hill’s abrupt departure from Fairweather Key with only a note of explanation was a shock from which she’d not soon recover.

The truth—and it pained her—was that she’d suspected a change in the doctor well before this. More often he’d spoken to her of the medical than the personal, and the last time she’d seen him—nearly three days ago—he’d said more than once that she was as capable as he of acting as doctor to the people of the island.

She’d laughed then and felt a measure of flattery. But something in how he said it made her wonder, if only in passing, whether she might someday be thrust into the position.

Now she had been.

Viola’s fingers shook as she wrapped them around the key in her palm. She’d found it this morning folded inside the note.

Someone should be told, but Viola couldn’t form the words to speak to anyone about it. The judge. Indeed, he should be the one to initiate a search for another doctor. His was, after all, the job of caring for the needs of the townspeople.

She glanced at Remy, who was studying her carefully. To his credit, her brother said nothing. “Will you accompany me to the judge’s office? I think he should be informed.”

He nodded then left to return with his hat and hers. “I respect that you’ll not allow me to read what the doctor wrote, but you must understand that there’s not a thing he could say—good or bad—in any letter that would change my opinion of him.”

“It’s not that I’ll not allow it,” she said. “But it says nothing of value. He’s gone. He wants me to run the clinic in his absence.” She shrugged. “Beyond that, there’s nothing.”

Viola donned her hat and shawl then followed Remy outside into sunshine that failed to warm the chill in her bones. On the walk to the courthouse, she likely passed numerous familiar faces, but she acknowledged none of them. Such was the numbness in her mind that had Remy not guided her, she might have continued to wander the streets of Fairweather Key completely oblivious to the reason for her outing. By the time she found herself seated at Caleb Spencer’s desk, she’d all but given up any pretense of feeling anything.

The judge leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled. “How can I help you today, Miss Dumont?” He looked to Remy. “Mr. Dumont, it is?”

Remy offered a curt nod. “You can right the wrong that has been perpetrated on my sister,” he said. “And you can find that doctor of yours and haul him back to answer to me as representative of my family.”

Judge Spencer let his hands drop to his lap. “These are serious charges, sir.” He looked to Viola. “Perhaps you will fill in the details?”

She offered up Dan’s note instead.

“How did you come to have this?” he asked.

“The bell rang early this morning, and I rose thinking I was heading to another birthing. Instead, I found this note on my porch.” She paused. “Accompanied by a key.”

Remy shot her a reproving look. “You didn’t tell me he left a key.”

“To the clinic,” she said as she set the key on the desk.

For a moment all was silent. The judge seemed to be considering the situation. It was almost more than Viola could stand to try to wrap her mind around the fact that the man she loved was gone.

Not gone but vanished, leaving only a note of apology and the key to the clinic in his wake.

“I repeat my request that you find this man and call him to task for his behavior,” Remy said.

Caleb offered the note back to Viola, but she declined to touch it. “Did Dr. Hill make any promises to you, Miss Dumont?”

Remy rose, and the chair toppled backward. “Look here, I fail to see—”

“Of marriage? We discussed it.”

“See there,” her brother said.

Viola slid him a warning glance, and he reluctantly righted the chair and sat in it. “We discussed it in generalities but never in specifics.” She paused. “My purpose in bringing this to your attention is not to cause him to return, but rather to allow you notice so you might search for a new doctor.”

“I see.” Caleb rested his elbows on the desk. “And what of your expertise, Miss Dumont? Might you have the abilities we need to take the doctor’s place?”

“Me?” She shook her head. “No, and even if I were able, I’d not be able to commit to such a responsibility. You see, I’ll be leaving soon.”

The statement surprised her almost as much as Remy. His smile was brief but sincere.

The judge, however, kept his expression blank. “Will you stay until another doctor can be found?”

“Honestly, I prefer not to face those who will want to console me. Leaving for a place where none knew of my. . .” Viola paused. “Of my attachment to the doctor,” she continued, “would give me great comfort. I am willing, however, to sacrifice that comfort for a short while rather than leave these good people without medical care.”

She looked to Remy, who offered an almost imperceptible nod. The decision made, she sighed. At least the course of her future would no longer depend on the indecision of one man or the death of another.

“If the search for a new teacher at Fairweather Key School is any indication,” the judge said, “I fear this might take some time.”

“What is this?” Remy asked. “You’re searching for a teacher?”

“A headmaster, actually,” he said, “or headmistress. The candidate must be willing to act as both educator and administrator.”

“I see.” Remy edged forward on his chair. “And what are the requirements for this position?”

Viola gave him a look.

“He or she must be a person of good character. Must offer up proof of some sufficient education.” Caleb looked to the ceiling as if thinking. “And of course, a contract would need to be signed. If a woman, the term of employment would end with marriage. Which is why the position is open.”

Remy inquired, “Might there be an interim position available? Say for a well-qualified fellow with a diploma?”

Caleb looked askance at Remy. “You’ve a university degree?”

“From Harvard,” Emilie Gayarre said from the door. “I’m ashamed I didn’t think to ask you about taking on the job of teaching the children. I suppose I expected you were only here visiting.” She looked at Caleb and must have noted his solemn expression. “I’m interrupting. I’ll just come back.”

“No, don’t go,” Viola said. “He’s gone, Em.” Viola ran to meet her halfway and fell into Emilie’s arms as the tears she’d held at bay began to fall. “Dan’s gone.”

Chapter 22

“All right, Micah,” Ruby said as the last of her resolve melted. “Yes.”

Perhaps it was for the best, as she’d spent most nights barely sleeping for worrying whether this would be the night Jean Luc returned. Or worse, Tommy Hawkins.

Then there was the issue of avoiding Remy Dumont. Marriage would certainly cure the habit of lying awake and brooding about what man would press his way into her bed.

From now until she took her last breath—or until he took his—it would be Micah Tate. That was somehow comforting.

His smile almost showed. Almost but not quite. “Yes what, Ruby?”

“Yes,” she said as she exhaled a long breath, “I will marry you.”

“You’re serious.”

“I am,” she said just as the butterflies in her stomach threatened to take flight.

“All right, then.”

When Micah set down his books and lifted her into his arms, then headed for the door, Ruby squealed, “Stop! Where are you going?”

“To wake up the judge,” he said. “I told him if you ever said yes to me, I’d haul you over there on the spot before you had a chance to change your mind.”

“Put me down.” She pushed against his chest until he set her feet on the ground. “I’ve got sleeping girls upstairs to think of, Mr. Tate.”

“Under the circumstances, I think it’s safe to call me Micah, don’t you?” He gestured to the door. “Now let’s go. If we hurry, we will likely not catch the judge in his nightclothes. If it’ll make you feel better, we can fetch someone to stay here with the girls while we’re gone.”

She reached for his arm. “Slow down,” she said. “Can’t this wait until tomorrow when the girls are awake? And why the judge? Don’t most weddings on Fairweather Key happen in the church?”

Ruby could tell the wrecker hadn’t thought of these things. Then came something else she hadn’t thought of until now.

“Micah,” she said gently, “I know ours will be a marriage based on promises that are a bit different than most. Strange as it sounds, it would mean something to me if it didn’t look that way.”

He paused. “I see your point. I suppose I can sleep with one eye open one more night,” he said.

“I know you’re teasing.” Ruby released her grip on his wrists. “But I have wondered where you’ve been. Given the fact that you did say you’d be watching out for me—for us—after what you did to Jean Luc.”

Her words must have stung, for he shrugged and walked to the door. “I’ve not slept more than a few hours at a time, Ruby, since the day I defended you. When I do, I find someone willing to take watch. I told you that, but I see you didn’t believe me.”

For a moment she had no words. “I didn’t know,” she finally said. “I thought you’d—”

“Given up? Hardly.” Micah shook his head. “I’ve heard there is a certain appreciation that comes along with missing someone. I decided to test the theory.”

“I thought. . .” She shook her head. “Never mind. I’ll ask that you find your own bed tonight, Micah, and tomorrow we can revisit the topic of marriage.”

“Then expect me for breakfast, Ruby.” He gestured to the door. “I’ll be sleeping on the front porch.”

“Oh no, you won’t,” she said, though her heart was not in the argument.

She watched Micah leave then extinguished the lamp and made her way upstairs. It seemed as though she’d barely climbed into bed when the rooster crowed and her day began.

Trudging through her morning routine, Ruby paused in front of the mirror before heading downstairs to begin breakfast. Dark smudges framed her eyes, and her hair seemed intent on going every direction but the one in which she attempted to tame it.

Using a length of blue cotton cut from an old apron, Ruby tied back her hair; then she pinched her cheeks and made a face. “If this is what Micah Tate is marrying, he’s definitely the loser in this bargain.”

As the boarders began to file in, drawn no doubt by the smell of fresh coffee, Ruby poured a cup of the steaming brew and slathered butter on a biscuit, then went to look for Micah. She found him curled against the wall on the far end of the back porch, his jacket rolled up as a pillow and his boots set neatly side by side.

Rather than rouse him, she knelt a distance away and watched. Indeed, he made the same snorts and snores as other men, but he also smiled. A man who smiled in his sleep was a novelty she could get used to.