The Last Honest Seamstress Read Online Free PDF Page A

pursuits. A man who was gone most of the time——  
    As the thought hit her, she looked back to her list of men. One name stood out on the page.
    Captain Con O'Neill.
    She picked up her pen and paused, ready to scratch the name off. How had she missed it? The Captain's name should have gone in the first round of elimination. Too attractive. Even his written name looked bold and handsome on the page. But her pen refused to move. She squinted in thought, bit her lip, and stared at the name.  
    A ship captain, and not of a local barge or ferry, but a coastal freighter. He owned it, and a small wharf in the south end of town. The captain's ship sailed often, had only been in port twice since she had arrived in Seattle in February. Both times he came to her shop to order a new shirt. She squirmed. He had a fine physique. The pen trembled and hovered, but didn't write.
    She took a deep breath. Since the pen wasn't budging, she might as well compare him to the attributes she wanted. Business owner. Well respected. Gone most of the time. Not interested in her romantically. Of all the men on the list, she knew with the most certainty that the Captain was not interested in her. He had never made the slightest move. She continued. No rumors of activity with loose women. The only thing against him was his looks. She set the pen down. He always seemed good-humored, and she couldn't fairly describe him as vain, or in any way aware of his magnetism. But he was dangerous, so dangerous all the same. There had to be something unappealing about him.
    "Freckles," she said to Olive. "He has freckles. Although to be fair, they are very faint and not on his face at all. But, we hate freckles, don't we girl? We'll just have to concentrate on them, and our goal. Security."  
    She picked up the pen and circled his name before reaching down to stroke the cat. "We've found our man. There's only one problem remaining——we know why we need him, but why does he need us?

Chapter 2
    It didn't take much research to discover the Captain owned a large warehouse as well as his wharf. He kept no permanent quarters in Seattle, and he had a hired man who managed the business in his absence. Clearly, he needed a competent businesswoman to oversee his operations. Fayth trusted employees very little. He should have someone whose success was tied to his. And she was just that woman.
    Every man needed a home, and a wife added respectability to his status in the community. She would keep a finger on the pulse of the growing city and advise him what goods to bring in, what ventures to pursue. How could he keep track of such things during his long absences? With her help he would be at least twice as successful as he was now.
    That left only two tasks: perform a final moral background check on the Captain, and find out when he was next scheduled to arrive in town. The latter only required a quick trip to his overseer's office, the former, a visit to Lou Gramm's parlor house to see Coral.  
    Few of Fayth's acquaintances understood her friendship with the young prostitute, or her sense of responsibility toward her. Despite their skepticism, Fayth was optimistic she could persuade Coral to leave the business, and was willing to suffer scorn herself in the attempt. Someone had to care about the girl.
    Lou Gramm's stylish parlor house was located just two blocks up Washington from Fayth's shop, on the corner of Third. From the exterior, it looked quiet and respectable. However, most of the women in the city couldn't walk by it without wincing, while most of the town's leading male citizens found they could not walk past without turning in.  
    Fayth strode up the front walk, steeled to her mission. Fortunately, Lou's business was slow in the early afternoon. Lou's maid Maddie let her in. Fayth had been inside the house more than once, but she never had overcome the shock of viewing its vulgar interior.  
    Lou had painted the walls in bright, garish colors. To ward off