Beloved Counterfeit by Kathleen Y'Barbo

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