Beloved Counterfeit by Kathleen Y'Barbo Page A

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