The Last Honest Seamstress (20 page)

"Lou Gramm?"

"I'm afraid you have no alternative, my friend. But, believe me, she is a fair-minded businesswoman. She'll deal with you honestly. And, at my urging, give you a fair rate."

Fayth chattered giddily as she and the Captain walked out of the bank's temporary headquarters and down the street. She ignored the serious glint in his eyes and his cool, thoughtful silence, not wanting anything to lessen her joy. She convinced herself that it was his way of showing excitement. She hadn't seen his composure crack under strain and pressure, why should it break with excitement?

"And I'm going to buy a tent, or at least rent one, and put it on my property right away. What do you think? Will you help me erect it?"

The corner of his mouth curled up slightly. "I should think I'd have to help you. Have you seen the size of those things? In fact, I'll need the help of a few of my men."

"Billy?"

"I said, my men."

She laughed.

"I suppose you'll want your machine moved there?"

"Oh, no." She shook her head. "The dust will ruin it. I'm going to take orders, do fittings, and take measurements in the tent. Hand sew what I need to there. I'll use the machine at home. But for the most part, I need the tent so the men can find me."

He cocked a brow. "Men? I was hoping you'd give up measuring crotches once we married and start sewing for the fairer sex. The ladies need your talent more than ever now. Have you noticed the drab clothes they've been wearing lately? Most of their dresses went through the fire and look it."

She laughed again and decided to tease him, just a bit. And string him along before it was necessary to reveal that she was already sewing for women. "I
have
noticed them. But you shouldn't. You're married now."

He shrugged. "I made my observations yesterday, before the ceremony." And then he winked at her.

She shook her head again. "You think quickly. Too quickly sometimes. Will I ever get the best of you?"

"I hope not." He sounded serious.

She studied him. She hated to remind him, but she had to make sure he knew his place. "You're not thinking you can dictate what I do with my business now, are you?"

"No. Absolutely not." He sounded sincere, but his eyes twinkled. "That was the agreement, wasn't it? I'm merely suggesting a profitable line of business to you."

"And I appreciate your advice." She paused. "I just realized. I didn't see you come out of Mr. Finn's office with a draft. Did you get your money?" She kept her tone light and teasing. She would have liked a look at his note, just to see how much Mr. Finn loaned him.

"I did." But he didn't offer to show it to her.

"Good." She took up his arm. "Would you like that breakfast now? It took so long at the bank that it'll have to be quick. I have an appointment at eleven."

"Let's celebrate later. When we have time to linger and enjoy it. I have an errand to run myself. Where are you off to? Do you need the carriage?"

She paused, debating whether to tell him about Lou. No, not now. Why ruin the happy mood? That revelation could wait until another day. Instead, she threw him off by camouflaging her true business in a way that should make him happy. She grinned at him. "I'm fitting a woman for a gown up in the north of town."

"Why, Fayth! Sewing for women, why didn't you say so in the first place?" His eyes lit up. He was undeniably pleased.

She shrugged. "Just on a case by case basis for now." She didn't want to lead him on
too
far. "To see how it goes." She hesitated. She wanted a ride to Lou's. It was too far to walk. But she didn't want to rob the Captain of his transportation. And then she hit upon a solution. She'd have him drop her off at a house near the madam's and pretend it was her client's. "If you give me a lift to my client's house, I'll have her driver drop me home and you can have the carriage."

"My pleasure," he said as they walked to the carriage. "What's the address?"

"The address?" She took a deep breath. "No idea. But I know how to get there."

"There! That's the house. I knew I'd recognize it once I saw it." Fayth had given the Captain instructions to the street, but gotten all turned around in the process. She panicked when she realized they were getting too close to Lou's and pointed at the first respectable house she could find. She forced a smile, hoping she looked calm.

The Captain reined the horses to a stop. "I'll walk you in." He climbed out and helped her down.
 

She would have bounded out unaided if it hadn't been for the dress she wore. Fashion was not made for jumping out of carriages. "No, no need."
 

"It's no trouble." He took her arm as she glanced wildly over her shoulder at the house.

"No! You'll scare old Mrs. Brown. She's very private and shy."

He hesitated and frowned.

"Please. She's an excellent client. I can't afford to lose her." Her begging tone must have convinced him.
 

"I'll see you at home later, then." He gave her a suspicious look and climbed back up into the carriage.
 

"Yes, later. And we'll celebrate." She waved at him as he rode off, slumping in relief when he was finally out of sight. Her relief lasted exactly two seconds. Then she realized her mistake. She'd panicked too early. She was farther away from Lou's than she'd originally thought. Curses! Why didn't she have a better sense of direction?
 

Walking at a brisk pace, it took her nearly twenty minutes to reach Lou's temporary home. By that time, her feet hurt and some of her earlier good mood had dissipated. She spotted Lou's house from half a block away, just in time to see a jaunty male figure bounce down the steps. The sun lit his hair. Red highlights shone bright.
The Captain.

She froze and watched him walk in the opposite direction, away from her, with an obviously happy spring to his walk. For one awful moment the sight before her made her feel as if she had had the wind knocked out of her. She simply couldn't get her breath. Why would the Captain be leaving Lou's?
Other than the obvious.

Chapter 9

Fayth froze, finally willing herself to breathe deeply. By the time the Captain disappeared from sight, she convinced herself it couldn't have been him. There had to be hundreds of tall men with red highlights in their hair. From the distance, she couldn't make out any other detail. She couldn't even remember if the man had a beard. Drew had made her skittish and distrustful. She hated him for it.

But the awful image lingered with her through the fittings. Through Coral's surprise and delight at her marriage. Through the teasing the other girls gave her. She lost her patience and threatened to design dresses so hideous the girls would be laughed out of Seattle. It lasted through the silent ride home in the carriage with Lou's driver. It persisted still as she paced the kitchen. She must have more faith in him. She couldn't let Drew's actions color her opinions of every man, least of all the Captain.

He was very late coming home. It was nearly dark. She came back from Lou's expecting a celebration and ended up dining alone. Where could he be? She took another deep breath to calm herself. Since the death of her parents she couldn't tolerate lateness, always fearing the worst. Everything had been normal that last evening she waited for them to come home from the shop. But they never had.

Drew later accused her of being obsessed with promptness. Said it was stifling him. He shouldn't have to account for every minute away from her. But he should have, the unfaithful bastard. She never said the word aloud, but she didn't feel guilty thinking it. There was no other way to describe Drew. And she preferred anger to the weepy guilt that had consumed her after he left. She still saw the steely set of his jaw as he accused her of driving him away. Only recently she realized he had chosen to leave. But the Captain was not Drew, and he owed her no explanations.

The front door, swollen in its frame from the heat of the day, shuddered open. Fayth jumped and raced into the entry. The Captain's smile melted her fear and anger away at first glance.

"I'm sorry I'm so late." His eyes were full of devilment and delight. "I had to spend all day doing it and scour the city in the process, but I got us a contractor, and you a tent."

"What?" Could he be serious? The wonderful man! She nearly hugged him.

"I know you talked about getting the tent yourself, but I wanted to surprise you. They're going to put it up for you first thing tomorrow morning. We're back in business!" He had a box of candy tucked under one arm and a newspaper under the other. He held the chocolates out to her. "To us and sweet success."

"That's wonderful. Yes! To us!" She clapped, delighted.

He set the paper down, picked her up and twirled her around as they both laughed. His arms felt good around her.

"You, sir, are amazing!" Her eyes swept over him. How could she even think that this man had been at Lou's? What an idiot she was! She let her relief out.

"Hey, you were worried?" He set her down too soon.

"Just thought you might have decided to stay on the
Aurnia."

"What? Desert my bride? Not a chance." His words were light, his tone serious. "I've got a reputation to maintain. What do you think my crew would think? That I can't, you know. Or that we've had our first spat. Not on your life. You're stuck with me, lady."
 

She couldn't have imagined his words would make her heart dance as it did.

She followed him as he walked into the kitchen and spread the newspaper open to point out an article.

"Love ignites in the ashes," she read aloud. "Yesterday afternoon Captain Con O'Neill and Miss Fayth Sheridan were joined in matrimony before the Reverend Wilson—"

"Thought you might want it for your scrapbook."

"Elizabeth! It has to be her!"

"Now you see the need for pretenses. The lonely fellows of our fine city will be keeping an eye out to see if this thing sticks." He lifted the lid off the chocolates. "Shall we?"

She woke with a start, her heart hammering in her ears. She sat up and tried to calm herself. Olive usually comforted her when she woke from a nightmare, but she was still at Elizabeth's.

Fayth shuddered. Why did this dream frighten her so deeply? She didn't understand where it came from, or why. Like most dreams, it wasn’t the content as much as the ethereal emotions she experienced in its grip that scared her. Though she couldn’t describe them in words, they were terrifying. She needed a calming drink of cool water or she’d never get back to sleep.
 

She stood in the kitchen with a glass of water; the Captain’s voice from behind her made her start.
 

"Are you all right?"

"Fine." Her voice sounded squeaky. "Had a bad dream. Didn't mean to wake you. A glass of water always calms me."

He drew up a chair at the table and motioned her into a seat across from him. "Very wise. Mam always brought me one when I was a child with a nightmare. Too bad we have to grow up and get our own." He studied her as she sipped. "Want to tell me about it?"

She ran her finger around the rim of her glass, trying to hide her embarrassment. "It's so silly. Since the night of the fire, I've had this nightmare that I’m drowning. I thought I had it figured out. That it would go away. But I haven't been able to shake it yet."

"You'll never drown as long as I'm here.” He grinned at her. “I have a big boat."

She couldn't stop the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth, but she didn't speak. Instead, she watched him stare at her.
 

A serious expression overtook his face. "I suspect you're feeling overwhelmed by all that's happened in the last week. I'm here to help you now. The burden isn't yours alone."

She nodded. He hummed some nonsensical little syllables. Words she couldn't recognize.

"What are you trying to sing?" The effects of her nightmare drifted off into the nebulous night, chased away by Con O'Neill's reassuring presence.

"Trying? Are you saying I can’t carry a tune?” He laughed. “It's a little child's ditty about a yellow seaweed in Ireland. It's always been very comforting to me."

"But you're not making any sense."

"Sure
,
I am. You don't understand Gaelic is all."

"And where did you learn it? On your travels?" She sipped her water.

"With a name like Sheary O'Neill, are you kidding? At home, darling. At home. My mother used to sing it to me." She hadn't noticed his slight brogue before. Did he put in on just for her?

"You don't have to sing to make me feel better. Just promise to take me to see my tent go up tomorrow."

Con stopped singing and shook his head, giving off a little snorting laugh as he did. "That's my girl. You are feeling better. Your mind's back on business again."
 

He reached across and patted her hand. "I give you my promise. Now off to bed with you. And me. We'll have to be up early to meet the crew, such as it is." He pushed back his chair and rose to leave.