Free The Last Honest Seamstress by Gina Robinson

their deep blasts to the cacophony.
    "Smells like a factory going up," Wylie commented.
    Fayth watched as shop customers and patrons filled the walks. Volunteer firemen dashed out from businesses lining the road, pulling their coats on as they raced up the street to their posts. The curiosity seekers rushed toward Front Street. Everyone else stood with eyes glued to the billowing smoke churning into the deep-blue sky to the north.
    "Well," Fayth said at last. "I have business to attend to."
    Mr. Wylie grabbed her arm as she tried to pass by. "I wouldn't leave my shop, Miss Sheridan. The streets are full of rowdies. It isn't safe. And the wind's from the north."
    His last statement seemed almost an afterthought, but she heard the apprehension in his voice.  
    Fayth stared at him, just beginning to feel an uneasy prickle of worry. If Mr. Wylie was concerned, maybe she should be, too. "The fire department will have this fire under control soon. There can't be any need to worry. The fire must be at least five blocks away."  
    A runner came down the street crying out the news. "Fire started at Front and Madison. The entire block's on fire. When the firemen tried to pull up the sidewalks to stop the fire from spreading, the heat drove 'em back. I seen it."
    "Best get back in your shop, Miss Sheridan," Mr. Wylie said. "It isn't safe for a lady to be out and about. Not with the excitement that's building."
    She looked at the boisterous mob growing in the street. Yes, Mr. Wylie was right. She'd be safer in the shop. She thanked him for his concern and retreated inside, determined to get back to work. But once inside, she couldn't face the isolation of running the machine in the back room. Instead, she grabbed a stack of pants that needed hemming and sat in the front of the store with the window open so she could hear the news relayed by observers. Hemming always calmed her.
    At nearly three-thirty she saw the first tongue of flame leap up and lick a sky no longer deep blue, but smeared black with smoke. The news came in sporadic bursts, as runners from the scene passed her window.
    The Denny block is on fire. Just when the firemen thought that they'd controlled it, it would burst forth midblock, blowing out windows and storming through doors with its fury.
    Frye's Opera House is burning and feared lost.
    The hoses have failed!
    The fire seemed unstoppable. The wind carried embers as far south as Columbia. Fayth listened to the reports and continued hemming, but the needle trembled in her hand.
    At four, a thunderous blast shook the panes of her windows. She screamed. Mr. Wylie pounded on her door.
    "Don't worry, Miss Sheridan! They blew up the San Francisco Store trying to make a fire line. More than six blocks are on fire, including Cherry Street. Me and Willis are going up on the roof with wet blankets to stave off any sparks. You'd be advised to haul down anything from the second floor that you might be wanting to save, just in case we have to pull our goods out into the streets." He didn't sound optimistic. "And hang as many wet blankets as you can out the windows."
    "Mr. Wylie, are we really in danger?" She was hoping for a denial.
    "Miss Sheridan, without water the firefighters are hamstrung. The few hoses still trickling are melting in the heat and everything's as dry as summer grass. Just the sheer heat is causing adjacent buildings to burst into flame." He must have seen her worry. His next words were softer. "We've got reason to be concerned."
    "Do you have enough blankets, Mr. Wylie?"
    "You just hang what you got out the windows," he said and disappeared, off to try to save the roof.
     
    Con stood at the end of his pier watching the fire approach. When word came that the hoses had failed, he called for Sweeney, his first mate.
    "Prepare the Aurnia to sail. I want every crewman that's not essential for launch at the warehouse. Tell them to load everything they can onto the Aurnia . Start with the most valuable, easily