The Last Honest Seamstress (16 page)

"I'm a seamstress." Fayth resisted the urge to snort. "I designed and made them myself."

"So Coral informed me. You have talent, Fayth."

Fayth let the compliment pass. A compliment from a madam was no compliment at all.

"All our finery, our beautiful wardrobe," Lou sighed, "lost in the fire. And now my regular seamstress has run off to Chicago. Our men have a sophisticated eye, and prefer to see their lady friends dressed in the height of fashion. We'll lose their business if we mope around in these scorched rags. The girls in the cribs are dressed as well as we are." She shook her head in disgust. "I will pay you handsomely to design and sew your gowns for us."

"I don't sew for women in your profession." Fayth tried to hop down, but Lou's grip on her arm stopped her.

"I'm asking for the return of a favor."

Fayth shook Lou's arm off. "What favor? I was innocent! I didn't need you bailing me out."

"But I did just the same. Don't you don't feel any debt of honor?"
 

Fayth set her jaw.

Lou laughed. "Even if you don't, I know you're pinched in the pocketbook. That's where I can help. I have cash, plenty of it. Can you afford to turn it down?"

"Yes."

Lou laughed, loud and cynically. "You're a naive girl, Fayth. That little shop of yours burned to the ground, just the same as my poor house. You'll need to get a loan to rebuild the business, to survive, my dear."

"Fortunately, there are bankers."

"But that's the point, isn't it? There are so few bankers, and so many people needing loans. As I see it, the bankers have the upper hand. They can be very discriminating in handing out their money. What do you have to recommend you, Fayth? You're a woman in a man's venue. A proprietor of a small shop." Her smile spread nastily across her face, lighting her eyes with a malicious glimmer. "I have influence in the banking arena. I could throw it in your favor." She paused and delicately shrugged her shoulders. "Or not."

A cold wave of fear ran down Fayth's back. She sat up straight, trying to ward it off. She wouldn't cower before the madam. She needed a loan to start again. The only item of real value she had salvaged was her machine. In a bold move calculated to help her secure the money she needed, just yesterday she used her savings to buy the lot where her leased shop space had stood. She needed the land as collateral against a building loan. She got it for a steal, but the purchase left her cash poor.

Lou was rumored to be extremely powerful in Seattle. The madam had many influential clients, and obvious influence over them. Coral had told Fayth stories without mentioning names. They came flooding back with crushing clarity. Lou had the power to make good on her threat. "You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Fayth stared ahead, her mind racing at a frantic pace, trying to come up with a way to extricate herself from the situation. "I don't sew lingerie. Find someone else."

"Oh, dear." Lou was laughing. "I didn't come to you for lingerie. I need elegant gowns to wear out, to bring in the crowd. Lingerie is the last thing we'll be needing to replace. Unveiled, my girls’ natural assets don't need any embellishing."

Fayth's thinly disguised discomfort only seemed to heighten Lou's amusement. Blast the woman!

"I'll tell you what. I am a fair-minded woman. I'll give you a day to think about it and send a driver over for your answer day after tomorrow. I'll need a day or two to see what material I can scrounge up, anyway. Someone in Tacoma should have something suitable." She handed Fayth a slip of paper. "If you make up your mind early, you can reach me at this address."

"She hasn't come to see you yet, Jake?"

"You know I can't divulge client information, Con. But if I recall correctly, the last time I saw Miss Sheridan was just before the fire. She was interested in buying the building she was renting. Of course, that deal is surely sour now, assuming she hadn't already put her money down. And she would have had to do that the day of the fire, before it struck."

"She'll be coming to see you soon. For all I know, she's in line right now." They sat in Jacob Finn's temporary quarters where he, as one of the financiers of the rebuilding, held court. The line to see him was a spectacle in itself, but Con was an old friend.

"What is your interest in the woman, Con?" Jacob looked over the stack of papers before him. "I can lend you enough to repair your wharf. But let me warn you, you hook up with her, I can't lend you enough to repair both businesses."

Con didn't shift in his chair. "I won't take the loan out today, Jake. Put a hold on enough cash for the wharf, will you? I'll be back tomorrow, if not, the next day."

"Certainly, Con. And if she comes to me in the meantime?"

"You have reasonable grounds to deny her."

"You're not asking me to doing anything unethical, are you?"

"You know me better than that." Con took a deep breath and leveled his gaze on the banker. "I'm asking you not to use extraordinary means to get her the money."

After a grueling wait in line, Fayth sat facing Jacob Finn in his office. "What do you mean, Mr. Finn, that I can't have a loan unless I have a man to oversee the rebuilding? Surely I can hire a contractor for that, and my cousin, Sterling Kelley, has offered to assist me. You insult me by insinuating that I can't run my own business, when you know very well that I can. In the months that I've been here my business has grown very nicely and your bank has seen the results in the increase of my deposits."

"I mean no insult, Miss Sheridan. I'm only following orders from the bank's board of directors. As you well know, we've had a run on loans. We only have so much capital. We must lend it discriminately.
 

"I've seen what a capable businesswoman you are, but that does not assure me you can manage a construction project. There will be dozens of con artists flocking to Seattle and they will be targeting the most vulnerable people as victims. Please illuminate me on any experience you have, and I'll be happy to reconsider."

He'd trapped her on purpose. He knew very well she had none.

"I don't have any. But I learn quickly. And I'll hire a reputable contractor at your recommendation."

Finn shook his head. "That's only the first strike against you, Miss Sheridan. Your cash assets are small. Speaking plainly, you're undercapitalized."

"Isn't everybody, Mr. Finn?" Her voice involuntarily pitched an octave higher in frustration, making her sound weak. It was times like this when she longed for a nice, deep voice.

Jacob Finn smiled. "Not all. What you need, Miss Sheridan, is a private investor, a backer, or a partner with assets. Come see me again when you've worked something out." He dismissed her.
 

Fayth stormed out of his office and down the street, muttering to herself.
Lou’s show of power.

Two hours and two more failed loan attempts later, she arrived at Lou's temporary parlor house, a house Lou was renting while she rebuilt.
 
What could Faythe do? Unless she wanted to live off of Sterling and Elizabeth's charity for the foreseeable future, she was out of options.
 

"Call off your dogs, Lou," Fayth said as she stepped into Lou's office. "I'll sew your dresses."

Lou looked momentarily surprised at such a sudden capitulation. But she recovered quickly and smiled in gracious victory. "I'll pay you handsomely for your work."

"I want more than good pay. Your friend Mr. Finn has denied my application for a loan. Use your influence, as I'm sure you did to set him against me, to change his mind."

Lou looked genuinely bewildered. "I have no influence over Jacob Finn. I merely bank at his establishment. I
can
promise you no additional problems from my sphere of influence."

Fayth waited until Sterling was out and she and Elizabeth were enjoying afternoon refreshments in the parlor before she spilled her news to her cousin.

"Fayth! You can't work in that
whorehouse
." Elizabeth's last word was a barely audible whisper.
 

"What choice do I have? It's not as if I'm entering their business. I've been to three different banks, and even though I own the land, none of them will lend me the money. Miss Gramm is going to pay me well for my dresses. I can't afford to be finicky.
"

"But you can't! Let us lend you the money."

Fayth shook her head. The fire had hit everyone in the pocketbook. She doubted whether her cousins had enough capital to lend her, even if they wanted to. "I can't let you put your own security at risk. And I won't be dependent on your good graces. You've done so much for me already."

"But, Fayth, it was one thing for you to pay a call to that Coral person, but to be under the Madam's employ!" Elizabeth shuddered. "This will devastate your reputation!"

"You think so? I don't
.
And anyway, I'm past caring. Who knows, maybe the publicity will bring clients in?" Fayth set her teacup down. "As soon as I've been paid for the first dress
,
I should be able to afford to put up a tent on my property. Then I'll be back in business. I'll drop the Madam's business as soon as I start making money again."

"Fayth, I can't believe you bought that property sight unseen."

"Unseen? I lived there, remember? Besides, I got it for a steal and I thought it would guarantee me a loan."

"But who knows what kind of shape it's in?"

"I'm going to see it tomorrow, when the militia pulls out. But I'm fairly well convinced that the fire cleared it for me."

"Please, let Sterling send one of his men out for you. It's going to be dangerous. And I beg you; give up this notion of sewing for that woman."

"Elizabeth, you can throw me out if you want, but I'm not going to change my mind."

Her steely look must have convinced Elizabeth. She put a hand on Fayth's shoulder. "I'd never turn you out."

"Elizabeth, remember the Christian Committee you and your friends have been talking about starting to save the fallen women of the community? Consider me the first member on active duty. Maybe this will give me the opportunity to save Coral."

"Oh, Fayth! We're all married women! But, you—you just shouldn't be in such a place!"

"No one should be," Fayth said calmly. "Married or otherwise."

Fayth didn't report to the relief tent for work the next morning. Instead she worked her way into the crowd of humanity waiting at the perimeter of the fire. The militia was scheduled to withdraw at seven when the restriction for going into the fire district without a pass would be dropped. The mayor was confident civil police and authorities could now take over the task of maintaining order.

Fayth studied the militia as they passed her. For five days now they had taken four-hour shifts of duty, spelled by four hours off to sleep. They were as weary and worn out as the citizens. Almost as soon as the last man trudged across the border of the burned district, pandemonium broke out. The crowd charged headlong into the charred remains of Seattle. More than five thousand looters were on the loose. Fayth was jostled and bumped, propelled forward by the force of the crowd. About midblock the crowd broke into different directions, allowing Fayth enough room to escape its clutches and head for her land.

Her pulse roared in her ears as she rounded the corner and surveyed the block. Though she had been warned about the destruction the fire had caused, she was not prepared for the damage to human decency. The reckless irreverence of the people who crowded the streets horrified her. They combed through wreckage not theirs, scavenging and looting before the eyes of the rightful owners of the scorched remains. The few legitimate merchants and shopkeepers she recognized had varying attitudes toward the heinous, hoarding throngs. Some charged at them like angry bulls. Lone figures trying to chase off buzzards. Mr. Pare waved at the looters on his property, trying to scare them away. Others stood at the edge of their property, pleading to deaf ears. All were desperate, all ineffective.

The lone policeman she saw had evidently given up making any attempt to stop the thieving. When she reached her property, it was covered with men picking through the ruins.

Raw fury welled up inside her. She yelled without thinking, barely suppressing an epithet. "Get out! The whole thieving lot of you!"
 

One man, of the dozens, paused to look up at her. And he with only mild curiosity, as if to gauge whether she had a weapon, then he calmly continued with his business.

"They won't find anything of value."

The calm, strong voice from behind stopped her cold. She turned around slowly, hoping he hadn't seen her outburst.

"Captain O'Neill," She nodded. "What makes you so certain? I may hope the fire has left me something."

He stepped down from a runabout led by a horse the same raw chestnut color as his hair. He looked the perfect picture of honor and inscrutability. With the sun at his back, he cast a tall shadow that emphasized his broad shoulders and lean, hard build.

"I was hoping to find you here. I've brought you something." He reached into his saddlebag and handed her a small parcel. "All that was found in the remains of your shop."