Beloved Counterfeit (34 page)

Then he shook his head. “I’ve shared my story about Caroline. I would hear of Mr. O’Shea.”

Mr. O’Shea.

Ruby felt trapped in the arms that gently held her. She slipped from his grasp to rest her shaking knees by sinking onto the settee. “Ruby?” he said as he came to sit beside her. “How did Claire O’Connor become Ruby O’Shea?” When she did not respond, he cleared his throat. “I would have an answer.”

Ruby weighed her options. Either she responded and accepted whatever her husband might think, or she kept her silence and risked worse. “You’ve met Jean Luc.”

Micah recoiled, anger flashing in his eyes as he jumped up. “The Frenchman? He is your husband?”

“No.” She grasped his hand and urged him to return to her side. “But he
is
Mr. O’Shea.”

“Ruby. Explain yourself.”

The edge in his voice gave her pause, yet she managed to speak. “I went along with the ruse to survive. There were Opal and the twins to think of, and it seemed harmless to pretend to be the wife of an Irish businessman.”

He shook his head. “I don’t follow, Ruby.”

“Tommy needed someone who appeared trustworthy to negotiate for him in certain situations. He and Jean Luc decided an Irishman with a wife would be the solution. Jean Luc has quite the ability to mimic, and all I had to do was remain silent and pretend to be his wife.”

“I see.”

Again she could tell he didn’t. “It kept me alive, Micah,” she said, “and it kept the girls safe, even after Opal died.”

“So he was not your actual husband.”

“No.”

His face wore a pained expression. “And is he the father of Tess and the twins?”

“No! Of course not.” She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This much was the truth. More she’d rather not tell, though Ruby knew if Micah questioned her, she would have to be honest.

“And is their father alive?”

Here was her chance for the honesty she’d only just now feared. “Alive?” She weighed the question even as she weighed the cost of the answer. Should Micah Tate find he had taken on the raising of Thomas Hawkins’s children, might he change his mind?

Though she prayed she knew him well enough to believe he would not, she could not take the risk.

Micah’s hand rested on her shoulder gently and moved lightly toward the nape of her neck. His eyes seemed to hold no anger. “Ruby?” he said softly. “I would have an answer.”

“Alive? No,” she said. “He is dead.”
To us.

The ringing of the too-familiar warning bell prevented her from continuing. Micah rose, as did she. For a moment, he seemed not to know what to say. For her part, Ruby knew what to say but could not force herself to backtrack and tell him the truth.

“Ruby,” he finally said, “we’re not done with this, and I’ve much else to tell you, but you know I have to go.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “But before you go, there’s one more thing you should know.”

Again the bell rang, and this time Micah leaned past her to look out the window toward the sea. “What?”

She reached for her husband’s shirtsleeve and gave it a tug, then waited until he met her stare. “I said vows before God two times since I came here to this island. The first time was when I told Him I’d let him have whatever He wanted of me and my life. The other time was when I married you.” She swallowed hard to keep the tears at bay. “I’m not proud of who I was before I came here, and I’m offering no excuse, but both times I meant those vows.”

Ruby paused. Now, she knew, was the time to tell him the truth about Tommy. To explain that she told him Tommy was dead because she feared what he might do.

The bell rang again, and Micah was gone, racing out the door and down the stairs with only a quick kiss and a smile. Ruby fell onto the settee, first listening for the door downstairs and then watching the road until she saw him hurry past. Some minutes later she found his sail among the others heading toward the reef.

Likely Clay Drummond was with him. Lately the man had taken to stopping by to visit with Micah and, she surmised, had become her husband’s friend. She knew from Viola that Clay often sailed with Micah when the need arose.

Ruby turned her thoughts back to their conversation of moments ago. Guilt gnawed at her, but she pushed it away to concentrate on the emotion she normally felt when Micah answered the alarm bell: first fear and then, by degrees, a measure of peace.

So many times she watched this same process, yet Ruby had never quite lost the butterflies that teased her stomach when the bell rang and the wreckers responded. Micah had been hurt badly salvaging the very wreck that brought Ruby and the girls ashore, and she knew the ache in his healed bones still plagued him on occasion. Knowing it could happen again set her on edge, though she worked hard not to let it show.

Ruby watched until she could no longer remain upstairs. Until a replacement arrived, she’d not have the luxury of rest. The fact that Mrs. Campbell hadn’t yet responded to her last letter irked Ruby a bit.

If her prayers were answered—and Ruby had no reason to believe they would not be—then soon she would find herself carrying Micah’s child. Her husband had already declared she would no longer work as she did now once the Lord blessed them in that way.

As she closed the door behind her, Ruby touched her abdomen. That she did not yet carry Micah’s son or daughter was of some concern. The nausea of those few days last month had passed, and then came the unmistakable evidence of the absence of any possible pregnancy.

Ruby sighed. At times such as this, she ached for the lack of a mother. If only she had someone she could ask what she—or rather they—might be doing wrong.

Banishing the thought, she donned her nightgown and climbed beneath the covers to await her husband. Heavy footsteps roused her from sleep, yet when the mattress sagged indicating that Micah had joined her, Ruby chose to feign sleep. A few moments later, Micah’s snores told her that his sleep was, indeed, genuine.

When she awoke the next morning, however, his side of the bed was empty. Dressing without lighting the lamp, she hurried downstairs to find that Micah was gone. She fumbled through breakfast preparations, certain that the truth, partial as it was, was the cause.

Once the boarders were fed, Ruby took breakfast upstairs to the girls. While the twins dressed, Tess bounced about with more than her usual amount of chatter. Ruby tried to be patient, but only removing herself to her bedchamber kept her from snapping at the child.

There she saw the pillow where her husband had barely rested his head. Tears threatened. Somewhere between the need to protect Opal’s girls and last night, she’d managed to realize that she wanted a real marriage with Micah.

Moving to his side of the bed, she sank to the mattress and placed her palm in the center of the pillow. Her eyes closed as she pictured her husband in sleep. The impossibly long lashes dusting high cheekbones tanned from hours in the sun. The hair, so like her own, that fell across his face as he lay on his side. The slow, even breaths that invariably led to soft snores.

I’m an idiot.

Yet as she opened her eyes, Ruby couldn’t say whether her idiocy came from sentimental thoughts or too much of the truth—or from not enough of it.

In any case, the result was the same. Micah Tate couldn’t live with a woman whose past hadn’t stayed where it belonged.

“Mama?”

Ruby turned to see Tess standing in the doorway. She had dressed herself and wore an interesting combination of her sisters’ adornments in her hair. As had become her habit, Tess had chosen a book from the shelf and held it to her chest in preparation for her walk down the street to the parsonage.

Ruby had worried that Tess might be imposing until the morning when she took Mary Carter up on her offer to peer through the window unobserved and see what a delight and a helper Tess had become to the Carter women. Indeed, the moment Isabelle arrived to spend the morning with her mother-in-law, Tess sprung into action and kept little Joey occupied.

Before the family left on their trip to Santa Lucida with Emilie and Caleb, Tess had even begun to read to the child, though Ruby doubted how much of her talent was actual and how much was made-up words. It mattered not, for little Joey would sit and listen, even taking his turn at naming items in the pictures.

At yesterday’s news of Joey’s return, Tess had begun planning her visit. How to tell her that she must now stay put because Micah, her faithful companion on the daily walk, was nowhere to be found?

“I’m ready to go.”

“Honey,” Ruby said gently, “don’t you think Joey’s grandmother might like a morning to herself? After all, they’ve been away for several weeks.”

Tess’s expression told her she didn’t understand.

“We’ll walk with her to the parsonage,” Maggie called. “But only if she’s ready to go now.”

“Just a couple of adjustments to her hairstyle, and she’ll be ready,” Ruby said as she reached for the brush. When Tess made to protest, Ruby shrugged. “All right, then. I suppose you’ll stay here and help with the laundry.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Micah told you to hire someone to do that. I heard him.”

“Yes, well, first off it’s quite impolite to listen in on adult conversations, Tess,” Ruby said as she began to remove the first of several knotted ribbons.

“She does it all the time,” Carol said from the door. “We told her to stop, but she won’t. I think she needs to know there are consequences.”

Carol’s choice of words stopped the breath in Ruby’s throat. “Yes,” she said, “I agree a discussion is in order.”

When she looked up, Carol was gone. Still, Ruby’s unease at the jab remained. Her fingers shook, and Tess cried out.

“Sorry, darling,” she said as she removed the last of the ribbons and employed the brush to create a more appropriate braid for the girl’s silky locks. “It appears you’re ready now.”

Yet before she could release the girl to send her off to the parsonage, Ruby gathered her into her lap and held her tight. If only Micah could see into her heart and know how very much these girls and their safety had tangled up the line between truth and lies.

Then again, this line had starting knotting well before their births. Best she could figure, things had begun to muddy well before Opal married Tommy Hawkins.

“Isn’t this a pretty picture?”

“Micah!” Tess screeched against Ruby’s ear.

While the child scrambled to the floor and vaulted herself into Micah’s arms, Ruby could only remain very still and watch. Her heart hurt for the innocence Tess would lose with Micah’s departure.

“Tess, c’mon,” Maggie called. “We’re leaving without you.”

Micah set the girl on her feet and patted her head. “I’ll come to fetch you later or send someone if your mama or I can’t go.”

With that, Tess raced out the door, calling back a quick good-bye. Three sets of footsteps clattered on the stairs; then, as Ruby rose, the door slammed downstairs. Though the boardinghouse was filled to the rafters with guests, suddenly Ruby felt very alone.

“Ruby?”

Soft. Almost gentle. Still, dread wrapped tentacles around her heart that surely burned like stinging sea creatures.

His expression, she decided when she braved a glance, gave away none of what he might be thinking. Again he said her name, this time with a touch more firmness.

“You must be tired.” Ruby tried to slide past, but Micah caught her wrist. “I thought I’d make fresh coffee,” she said without looking up.

“You were a criminal.”

Four words, yet they carried the weight of a hundred. His grip tightened, and she studied his hand. Noted the scar that traced a path across his knuckle to disappear into his sleeve.

“Ruby. Look at me.”

She couldn’t.

“Ruby,” he said softly as his free hand cradled her jaw then gently lifted her chin. “You were a criminal.”

Searching his face, she hoped for some sign of what he might say next but found none. “Yes,” Ruby managed. “I was a criminal because that’s what kept those girls safe. It plagued me something awful, but Rev. Carter says Jesus wiped away that sin along with all the others I’ve committed.” Emboldened, she continued. “But I remember enough about my criminal days to know how to disappear.” The briefest of pauses. “If that’s what you want.”

Chapter 40

Micah couldn’t deny parts of Ruby’s story would be hard to get over. Other things likely he’d never quite learn to live with. He’d never tell her that, of course, but it pained him to admit the truth.

Thinking of his wife in any way other than as a mama of those girls was too much for him. Imagining her taking part in a smuggler’s ruse went beyond what he thought he could stand.

Knowing she’d done those things to survive blunted the blow to his pride at marrying a woman whose past was not what he’d expected. And believing the Lord had washed her clean kept him from walking away.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come back.”

His wife’s direct look broached no nonsense, yet he had a suspicion that beneath the surface she was not nearly so calm. He’d seen her wild eyes, watched her stare at the horizon as if some specter might pierce it and come after her. He was no stranger to her occasional walks to the beach to gather the sand dollars that were now piled several rows high in a bucket beside the back door.

So her story, now that he’d had time to think on it, filled in the gaps and told him the why of her actions.

“Micah? I hate it when you stare at me like that.”

He blinked hard. “I’m sorry. Leave? Why?” He shrugged. “I’ll admit it hurt my pride to know I’d married a woman with a past that I didn’t expect.”

“I tried to tell you, but you—”

“Hold on, woman,” he said. “It isn’t entirely true that I didn’t expect something awful had happened to you. Remember, I was there when they pulled you and the girls off that animal’s ship. I saw.”

Her nod urged him to continue, but he wouldn’t until she looked into his eyes. He cupped her cheek once again, his favorite thing, and gently guided her gaze toward his. “Ruby,” he said as softly as he could, “I’m no saint, either. I just didn’t think. . .well, I expected the four of you had been kidnapped.”