Beloved Counterfeit (39 page)

“We will be moving into the parsonage next week,” he said, ignoring the question. “I’ll expect you to conduct yourself as a proper pastor’s wife.”

Ruby froze as her dress sagged to the floor. “That won’t be a problem, Micah.” She slipped on her nightgown and turned toward him, her shaking fingers still working to close the buttons. “For I came to tell you I’ll be joining the girls in Santa Lucida.”

Had he begged her to stay, she would have. Instead, Micah nodded then extinguished the lamp.

She climbed into bed beside him and waited for the words she hoped would come. When his breathing slowed, she knew she’d not hear them. “Micah,” she said in a voice loud enough to wake him. “Why did you come here tonight?”

He shifted toward her. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, and I’m the pastor. Where else would I be?”

“Of course,” she said as the last of her pride evaporated. So he’d only come back to her for appearance’ sake. “And tomorrow night? Where will you sleep then?”

“Stop, Ruby.” He slid his hand around her and hauled her against him. “What do you want from me?”

Pressing her hands to his chest, Ruby slipped from his grasp.
I want you to love me.

But the words went unsaid.

On Monday morning, she climbed aboard a vessel that would take her to Santa Lucida. What Micah didn’t know when he left her on the docks was that she had no immediate plans to return.

By the time she stumbled numbly off the ship and into the sympathetic embrace of Caleb’s beautiful mother, she’d determined to stay until Micah came for her. Or, she amended, until the Lord sent her home.

Wherever that was.

Chapter 45

“I don’t ever want to leave,” Tess said as she stretched out in the canopied bed. “It’s lovely here.”

“Indeed, it is.” Ruby kissed the girl’s forehead then settled the blankets around her. “But remember, we’re only visiting.”

“When will our papa come for us?” Carol asked from the bed she shared with Maggie on the opposite side of the expansive bedchamber.

Ruby sighed. Evidently she’d been mistaken when she assumed Carol had given up on seeing Tommy again. Perhaps now was the time for the truth.

“Don’t you miss Micah?” Carol asked.

Ruby took a second to gather her wits. “Of course,” she said, “but isn’t it nice of him to allow us this vacation?”

“I don’t want a vacation,” Maggie said. “I want to go home.”

“Me, too,” Tess whined as she placed the ever-present sand dollar on the table beside the bed. “I want to sleep in my own bed.”

Ruby extinguished the lamp and moved toward the open door and the balcony beyond by the light of the moon. From the corner of her eye, she spied Caleb’s mother on the opposite end of the balcony.

“Am I intruding?” Mary Fletcher asked as she moved toward Ruby.

“I welcome your company,” she said, “though I wonder if we might talk where we’d be less likely to bother the girls.”

As Emilie had predicted, in the months since Ruby had arrived on Santa Lucida, Mary Fletcher had become the mother Ruby never had. She’d also proven herself to be a grandmother worthy of celebration to the three girls under her roof.

But it was her ability to listen that endeared the woman to Ruby. Mary’s exploits failed to match her placid exterior, and more than once they’d discussed what it meant to be a woman with a past.

A woman who sought the Lord now, though she’d not always stayed on so narrow a path.

Watching the reed-thin woman making her way across the balcony, the wind whipping hair that only slightly glistened with threads of silver, put Ruby in mind of a woman more suited to walk the floors of a castle in some far-off land.

“I would like that very much.” Mary’s gaze settled on Ruby’s eyes then dropped as she reached for her arm. “I have it on good authority that Fletcher has anticipated our need for just such a conversation and put water on to boil.”

Fletcher treated Mary like the newlywed she was. The pair put Ruby to shame with their endearments, and more than once she had caught them kissing as if they were many decades younger than their actual ages.

It was quite sweet, and often it made her want to cry.

But then, lately everything made her want to cry.

They walked together downstairs to the large gathering room that served as a parlor in this tropical paradise. “Tea?” Mary asked as Ruby settled on the settee. So much about this room, this island, reminded her of the home of her childhood.

“Thank you, but no.”

“Of course. It wouldn’t settle well, would it?” She gave Ruby a look. “What with a baby coming.”

“How did you know?” It was something Ruby hadn’t even admitted to herself. Yet the signs were obvious.

“He’s coming for you,” she said. “I know it.”

“It’s been four months, almost five. Wouldn’t he have come for me before now?”

Mary shrugged and settled back with her tea. “I just know he will. It is not for a woman to determine a man’s timing.”

Thus, when the vessel docked at Santa Lucida nine days later, Ruby was not completely surprised to see Micah Tate at the helm. “I’ve come for my wife,” he called to Caleb’s mother and Fletcher. Mary’s response was a knowing smile and a gesture to the balcony where Ruby stood.

With the girls dancing around Micah like fools, Ruby held back to see what he would do. He came to her, walking down the wide expanse of balcony as if he owned the place.

Her heart jolted at the sight, so Ruby tried to look away.

She failed.

“Get your things, Ruby. We’re going home.”

He was impossibly handsome standing there, though she again tried not to stare. A bit gaunt about the jaws and somewhat worse for wear, but handsome all the same.

“And if I don’t wish to go with you?” she asked.

He moved toward her but did not touch her.

The distance between them might have been a mile, yet he was close enough for Ruby to hear him breathing.

“You misunderstand.” His fingers found her wrist, and he gently led her to him. “I didn’t ask.”

He smelled of soap and fresh sea air, and she inhaled even as she tried to ignore the way he made her feel. She could have easily slipped from his grasp, but heaven help her, she didn’t want to.

“Look at me.”

She did and nearly toppled into him. He caught her and, in the moment before their lips met, offered a smile.

Ruby allowed the kiss, though her heart still complained of his absence. “I was an idiot,” he said as if he’d heard her thoughts. “Come home with me?”

“Are you asking now?”

His hand cupped her jaw then slid down the curve of her neck. “No,” he whispered against her flushed skin. “I’m begging.”

* * *

Any other time, Micah might have lingered on Santa Lucida. Today, however, he had a mission: to get his womenfolk home safely. But as he slid the ship past the protection of the reef and into open waters, he could only pray that mission might be accomplished.

To be sure, he’d not come alone or unarmed. Yet when it became evident he was being followed, Micah knew he had a decision to make. To turn and take on the shadowing vessel would put Ruby and the girls at risk, likely from the pirate Hawkins. But to race the ship to Fairweather Key meant inviting trouble right at his doorstep.

The memory of his palm resting on the swell of his wife’s belly less than an hour ago hit him hard, and he called to unfurl the sails. He would live to fight another day, but tonight Ruby Tate would sleep under his roof once more.

Thus the vessel split the waves and made for home while the offending ship fell behind and eventually disappeared from the horizon. Micah did not allow relief to come until his hand touched the gate of the parsonage, where just last week he’d allowed himself to move in.

“You’ll likely want to move things around to suit yourself,” Micah said as he opened the door to the home and watched Ruby walk through. The girls ran about until he directed them to the nursery that would have to be added onto soon.

He’d taken the liberty of purchasing a few things for them, with the help of Isabelle and Emilie, and from the squeals, it sounded as if the girls approved.

“You’ll be safe here,” he said as he held his wife a moment longer then released her. “I’ve an errand to run that might take awhile.”

Ruby seemed to understand, for she merely smiled.

“Have the girls in bed when I return,” he said with a wink.

When he shut the door behind him, the last of Micah’s good humor evaporated. Already, two dozen men surrounded the parsonage. “Keep out of sight,” he said to Neely, who’d come to take charge. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“You bring back my men in one piece, you hear?” Neely said with a good-natured grin.

“You know I will,” Micah tossed over his shoulder.

“Yes, I do, sir,” Neely said. “You’re the best there is. Now go with God and rest assured the men and I’ll be right here watching and praying.”

Micah turned to focus on the militiaman. “As I’ll likely be in great need of both, I do appreciate it.”

He got all the way to the courthouse before doubts about involving the navy sent him doubling back to the boardinghouse to try to raise Josiah from his bed. When he realized he’d only draw unwanted attention to a mission neither Josiah nor Caleb would approve of, Micah turned on his heels and headed toward the one man who not only owed him but would likely come along for the pure adventure of it all.

With only the briefest of stops to pull Clay Drummond from his bed, Micah and a skeleton crew sailed out into the night to capture Hawkins. “I’d not do this for just anyone,” Drummond complained even as he smiled. “Last thing I need is to propose to Vivi with my backside full of buckshot.”

“I guarantee it won’t be buckshot that hits you,” Micah said, “though what better wife could a man like you take on than one who does her own doctoring?”

“Good point.”

“There is something,” he said. “I wonder what’ll happen if Doc decides to come back.”

“He won’t.” Drummond nodded toward the horizon. “See anything yet?”

Micah shook his head. “You’re pretty confident of it. Dare I ask how you know?”

Clay shrugged. “It was part of the deal.”

“I see.” He did, though whether he approved was another matter. Micah had never known Doc Hill to be anything other than a good man, though one never knew everything about a person. This he realized all too well.

Again Drummond gestured toward the horizon. “Nothing out there?”

“No, but I know what I’m looking for.”
And likely whom.
He gave the order to extinguish the lanterns then watched with satisfaction as his crew jumped to their duties in silence.

He’d chosen well.

Micah’s pulse raced as he turned his face into the east wind. How easily he could be distracted by his thoughts. Revenge, his ever-present temptation, bore hard tonight.

Yet he could not give in to its pull.

While Micah kept watch, the hull chased the silver path of the moon across the waves. Then he spied it, this vessel that had dogged his wake. It lay at anchor some distance from the flats, and he could hear what sounded like rousing merriment.

“What now?” Drummond asked.

“We’ll not fire on it unless fired upon,” Micah said. “Though be at the ready.”

He turned to gesture to the nearest sailor, and immediately the sails were trimmed. He reached for the spyglass and held it to his eye. Quite a celebration was taking place on the aft deck.

Scanning the deck, he searched for Hawkins until he found the sorry excuse for a man lifting a bottle and laughing. Anger, white hot and unexpected, simmered just beneath the surface as he watched the fair-haired man upend the liquor then raise it high again.

How a man could live with half of what Hawkins had done was beyond understanding. Were it incumbent on him to choose between praying for the man’s soul and killing him, Micah knew which he’d prefer.

He also knew which the Lord preferred.

Lowering the glass, he thrust it into the hands of the sailor who stood at his elbow. A long, slow exhale, and the rage, while not gone, was under control.

As Micah turned the wheel to head toward the vessel, Clay placed his hand atop his arm. “What are you going to do?”

“Take back what’s mine.”

“What’s that?” Clay asked.

“Peace of mind,” Micah said as he tamped down his anger all over again. “This man will no longer haunt my wife’s nightmares or be a threat to the girls.” He paused to correct the trajectory of their path. “Nor will I continue to wonder whether I’ll be forced to kill him.”

“Is that why we’re here, Tate? To kill Hawkins?”

Micah had to think on the question longer than he liked before he could answer. “Would that I could,” he said, “but vengeance is not mine to have.” He paused. “Yet were I called on to defend myself to the death, there would be neither hesitation nor a question of which of us would fall.”

His look dared Drummond to comment. When he only nodded, Micah went back to the work of slipping up on the vessel undetected. Steering the vessel away from the moon’s path was easily done. Keeping it moving at a speed slow enough to maneuver was not.

Upon his silent command, the men of the
Ruby
took up their arms and waited.

Coming alongside the smuggler’s vessel, he realized what a foolhardy move he’d made coming out with none but Drummond and a handful of true but not tried sailors. Still, he kept to his plan. Capturing Thomas Hawkins had become a personal matter and nothing he’d want delegated to Caleb and the navy.

Three dozen men, maybe more, were visible on Hawkins’s vessel, but most were in the latter stages of becoming falling-down drunk. Those who remained upright blended voices with those who found themselves unable to find their sea legs to serenade a captain who leaned dangerously over the quarterdeck with not one but two bottles in his fists.

By the time the lashing hooks were thrown, the
Ruby
had been spied. What would be done about this invading menace, however, seemed to be a matter of confusion for Hawkins’s crew.

For Hawkins, however, it appeared a personal affront. “See here,” he called as he grabbed for the rail, causing one of his bottles to crash to the deck below. “How dare you attempt to come aboard without proper invitation.”