He mailed the letter before he lost the nerve and sighed a heavy breath before turning to head home.
The rest of the year passed in a blur as Jameson worked hard to keep his ailing mother comfortable and the Bethel Clothing Company from going under. When a federal grant came through, it bolstered the company’s finances so much that Jameson was able to re-hire his sister-in-law. However, because she was with child, he offered the job to Mrs. Porter instead, feeling well and good about his decision.
He couldn’t help but think of Constance when Rebekah Porter came to work for him. Constance had seen in the woman a great work ethic and a strong love for her son that was hindered only by her inability to provide for them without her son’s income. Even if he never spoke to or heard from Constance Lowell again, he knew she had changed lives in her short time in California. Not just Billy’s or Rebekah’s. She’d changed his as well, with her sassy attitude and take-no-prisoners approach to speaking her mind. With a grin he wondered how her teachers were liking her quick and lethally accurate viewpoints.
Still, life had to move on and move on it did. By December of 1886, Clarice Smitz was on her deathbed, her body ravaged by Cholera. She passed the day after Christmas and was buried two weeks later next to her husband. After his mother’s passing, Jameson became the full time heir and responsible owner of the Bethel Clothing Company. That responsibility, when handled alone sat so heavily on Jameson that his heart began to ache for something much different.
As a child he’d always loved horses. Their often gentle spirits and quick minds. The way they could learn a rider’s wishes without anything more to aid them than time. He’d learned some over the years as well, having his own horse. He knew he could learn to turn his love of horses into a prosperous business if he could find the time to devote to it.
“Mr. Smitz, there’s a man here to see you. He says his name is Henry David Lee and he’d like to speak to you privately.”
“Show him in, Rebekah. Thank you.”
“Yes, sir,” the petite woman answered.
“Hello,” a boisterous and jovial man said as he entered Jameson’s office with his hand outstretched. “Henry David Lee and it’s wonderful to meet you, sir.”
“Likewise,” Jameson said, shaking the man’s hand and sitting on the edge of his desk as the stranger sat down in a leather lined chair in front of it. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?”
“Have you ever heard of Levi Strauss Jeans, Mr. Smitz?” the man asked after glancing at the placard that announced Jameson’s last name in bold, gold inflected letters.
“I believe so, yes.”
“Well, we are in the need of some serious factory space, as we’re launching a new line of jeans. When I saw your factory I could have wept at the space you have. How many acres do you own, if you don’t mind my asking, of course?”
“Not at all,” James smirked. Mr. Lee certainly knew how to butter someone up before going in for the clincher. “With the factory included we own fifteen thousand acres of property along the Delta River.”
“Well, to get right to the point, sir,” Henry said, folding and unfolding his hat in his hands as a nervous tick. “Levi and I would greatly love to purchase your acreage and the factory as one unit.”
Jameson just sat there for a minute, studying the man. He was tall, with his dark hair just starting to go gray at the temples. His full beard sprinkled with white that stood out against the dark brown, but not in an unseemly way.
“Well Mr. Lee, that’s certainly an offer to think about. May I ask what you plan to do with the land and factory?”
“We would of course, upgrade the factory to meet the manufacturing specifications of the Levi Strauss line. The land would go to creating other processing buildings, shipping being included.”
“Do I have time to consider your offer?”
“You do,” Henry said, with a friendly smile. “We will need to know by Monday next, however.”
Thinking ahead, Jameson knew he’d have the weekend to think over his decision. But who would he discuss the decision with? His parents were dead, unable to give him counsel. His mind instantly thought of Constance, but he shoved the thought away, irritated that she would interrupt his thoughts so easily. However, talking things through with her father would be a plausible option.
Within an hour of leaving the office, Jameson had sent a wire to the Lowell residence. An hour later he got a response back in kind.
Chapter Three: Changes
“Who was the telegram from?” Constance asked her father over dinner.
“Our friend in California, Jameson Smitz.” Hearing his name brought a pang to her heart, she tried hard to swallow. She’d worked hard over the year to put Jameson out of her mind. She’d immersed herself in her studies, pouring through books upon books and garnering the highest rank in her class, all in an effort to forget a man who’d completely affected her life.
“Oh,” she said, not realizing that both of her parents were eyeing her suspiciously. “Did he happen to say anything pertinent?”
Grinning at his oldest daughter, Richard continued. “Apparently Jameson has been offered an impressive payout, should he decide to sell his company.”
“He’s selling his company?” Constance asked, intrigued.
“Levi Strauss and Henry David Lee have offered to buy the factory and the surrounding acreage for a very nice three hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”
Constance couldn’t imagine that sort of money. She knew her parents were well off, but he had no idea if even they had that much money. She ate quickly and asked to be excused. Just before bed she heard a knock on her door. “Come in,” she called.
“I came to say goodnight and ask if you’d like to talk about it.” Rachel Lowell said, sitting on the edge of her daughter’s bed.
“About what?” Constance asked, not quite meeting her mother’s eyes.
“About your feelings for Jameson Smitz,” Rachel smiled, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.
“I don’t know how I feel about it, not anymore.”
“Well how did you feel about him?”
“I care for him, certainly,” Constance said, already feeling flustered. “I thought he cared for me as well, but over the last year I’m not so sure. He says he has nothing to offer me and that he hopes school is everything I imagined it to be. Why are men so confusing?”
“It’s just in their nature honey,” Rachel laughed. “Believe me, they find us just as disconcerting.”
“Well it’s their fault,” she pouted. Still, she prayed that night for God’s guidance in Jameson’s life and his big decision to make.
A week later they heard back from him.
Thank you for the counsel stop It was infallible stop I am now the proud owner of an impressive horse ranch in San Jacinto stop Would love for you all to see it stop Write soon stop.
“He bought a horse ranch with a company to run?”
“He sold the company, sweetheart,” Robert smiled. “He wrote awhile back to say that he had always wanted to own and run a horse ranch. The only thing that had held him back was being restrained in his time with the company. I advised him to follow his heart and be frugal with the payout. He bought the horse ranch, as is. Because of this, he was able to invest heavily in horses, their tack, and their accommodations.”
“Wow,” Constance said. Her heart constricting even more. “I didn’t realize he liked horses so much.”
“I’m sure back then your conversations were more formal,” Robert grinned.
A week later, Constance received a letter from Jameson that made her hands shake as she read it.
January 1887
My Dearest Constance,
I’m sorry if my distance has hurt you. My intentions were always to keep you from being hurt, only to realize that I was probably harming you most of all. I don’t know if you’ll be happy to read this or not, but I can’t seem to escape you. You plague my thoughts, turning up at all hours
, in all situations.
I should tell you that I’ve previously corresponded with your father and have been for some time. I’ve come to think of him as a quiet and wise friend. There’s so much I want to share with you. I’d love to show you San Jacinto, my home, the horses. I know you’d love them from the start.
I know that you need to finish school and that it will often seem like the hardest thing to do to get there, but I wanted you to know my heart and where I stand when it comes to you. While I tried to convince myself that I had nothing to offer, that I couldn’t give you a good life; I’ve since realized that that was just me being a coward.
I love you Constance Lynette Lowell. In time I’d love nothing more than to have the honor of making you Mrs. Constance Lynette Smitz. I don’t really know what to say other than that, except that I can’t wait for the summer so I can show you around.
Yours always,
Jameson Robert Smitz
Constance reread the letter three times before she was able to get through it without the tears. And here she’d been praying the whole time for God to remove the feelings she’d harbored for Jameson. To help her deal with the hurt that stung so badly sometimes that she found it hard to breathe.
***
June 1887
Jameson stood on the boardwalk, bouncing on his heals as he waited. Constance had sent a telegram when they’d reached Kansas, saying that they’d arrive today, within the hour if his watch was right. He paced up and down the boardwalk, sat down, stood up, tried to read the paper, check recent new bulletins. Apparently Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid were still wreaking havoc on the Midwest. Then the train whistle blew and Jameson turned to see the smoke stack as the train grew larger and larger.
He waited, holding his breath as passengers poured from the locomotive and its attached cars. Then he inhaled, finally, at the sight of Constance as she stepped off the train, aided by her father. He’d forgotten how incredibly stunning she was, which was clear by just how much she’d matured. No longer was she the sassy young girl who’d confronted him about injustice. No, this Constance was a beautiful and breathtaking young woman. A young woman who made his heart squeeze in his chest even as a grin split his face. Where once her pretty blonde hair had been pinned almost haphazardly on her head and freckles had splashed across her face, now she wore her hair in the latest up do, pinning it stylishly so that his fingers itched to let it all spill down her back. Her face glowed as she waited by her mother.
“Mr. Lowell,” Jameson said, addressing Richard first. He greeted Rachel as well before turning his eyes on Constance who was waiting patiently. “Would you care to walk with me?”
“I’d like that very much,” she agreed, taking his elbow. They started out, keeping themselves easily within eyesight of her parents. “Thank you for inviting us to see your ranch. I’ve been on pins and needles wondering what it looks like.”
“I hope you’ll like it,” he grinned. “Although I must admit that it’s in sore need of a woman’s touch. My decorating skills are terribly lacking.”
“How are the horses?” she asked, unable to contain her excitement as her hand squeezed his arm.
“They’re beautiful,” he chuckled. “They can’t hold a candle to you, Constance, but they are beautiful.”
“When can we see it, the ranch?”
“This very afternoon, if you wish.”
“Yes, please,” she smiled. “Daddy, can we go see his ranch today?”
“Why I think that would be lovely, dear.”
“Alright,” Jameson said. “Is it alright with you if Constance rides with me sir?”
“I think that given your intentions it would be alright,” he said.
“I’ve procured a buggy for you and Mrs. Lowell as well.”
“Well thank you, my boy.” Richard chuckled as Jameson shook his hand.
Jameson handed Constance up into the buggy, smiling over the horses that pulled them along. “Are these yours?”
“Yes,” he smiled. “Jack and Jill are their names. They are my work horses and do a fair job for me. I take excellent care of them, but it’s the other horses I want you to take a look at. I can’t tell you how much I’ve learned in such a short time. They are phenomenal creatures. So willing to do all I ask of them and more, just because I feed and groom them, because I’m patient with them.”
“I can hardly wait,” she said.
***
Constance couldn’t believe the beauty of San Jacinto. Nestled in the San Jacinto Mountains, the valley was home to both San Jacinto and Hemet, which was home to the only hospital in the entire valley. “It’s beautiful here.”
“It is,” Jameson smiled. “I was so blessed when this property was brought to my attention. I knew then, that God had different plans for me than running the clothing company for another fifty years.
“I wouldn’t have taken you for a rancher,” she laughed. “Not that I think you incapable…I just…you looked so right in a suit and tie I guess.”
“I don’t look right in overalls?”
She giggled, unable to help herself. “We shall see.” When they arrived at his ranch, Constance was stunned by how much property Jameson had. Acres and acres of fenced property was either sectioned off for grazing, crops, or the magnificent horses. Upon inquiring, Constance learned that Jameson had been able to acquire a beautiful thoroughbred stallion for a decent price. The mare had cost him considerably more as she was already in foal. “We’re do for our first baby any day now,” he informed his guests once Constance’s parents arrived.
“I assume you’re hoping for a little filly?”
“Frankly,” he smiled. “I don’t care what gender the horse is. It was join what I hope will become a long line of successfully bred horses. Not just for racing either. I’d like to create a line of horses to serve the military and cowboys, famers, and the like that head this way.”
“So you think California isn’t the last state to join the Union?”
“Oh no,” Jameson assured him. “I think we’ll see Kansas and Nevada for sure. Maybe even Oklahoma and New Mexico as well. There’s even talk of territories to our north becoming states for the union as well.”
“Good news,” Robert agreed. “Good news, indeed.”
Constance spent the summer learning all she could about Jameson’s ranch, while her father helped he intended learn the ins and outs of running his own business. She painted his house a pretty cream colored yellow and put up freshly painted blue shutters. She sewed new curtains and with the help of her mother, made the house that would one day be hers, a home.
***
Before long though, it was time to say farewell and head back to finish her schooling. “I’ll write to you as often as time allows,” Jameson promised, seeing her off at the train depot.
“I’ll reply just as often,” she promised. Before she lost the nerve, Constance looked up into sparkling blue eyes, took a deep breath, and quickly pressed her lips to his. The kiss was over in a flash, but the burn on her lips lasted well into the night as she tried to sleep on the train.
They made it home in a couple days and before Constance knew it, school had engulfed her once again. Jameson’s first letter came two weeks later and she anxiously tore it open.
September 1887
My Dearest Constance,
I certainly hope this letter finds you well and happy. Hopefully your studies are going well. My town is talking about incorporating into the county, which I’m in favor of. It’d give us land owners rights we currently can’t exercise. With Hemet already being incorporated I assume it can only benefit us from here on out.
I miss you, but I suppose that’s an equal sentiment. How was your train ride home? Did I ever tell you that I’ve never been on a train? Are the as noisy and uncomfortable as they seem?
Write to me soon sweetheart!
Always,
Jameson
Constance replied with haste, wanting the letter to
hit the morning mail call.
September 1887
Dearest Jameson,
Never been on a train? We must ride one together someday! My studies are progressing well. Hopefully this will be my last year before I can finally say I’ve graduated. With my high scores I’m sure I’ll succeed. I have never been more well or happier in my life, partly because I’m love by you.
Forgive me for not writing my own feelings down. I prefer to say them in person, when the opportune time presents itself.
I’m glad to hear that your town will become an incorporation of the county. It sounds as if that would bode well for your ranch? The legalities escape me, but if it will be good for the town and for you, then I’m thankful and grateful that it’s happening.
I miss you too, Jameson. More than I can or will put into words right now. We wait patiently for the plans of our Heavenly Father. I am sure that our patience will be rewarded and soon I hope.
For now, I will apply myself to my studies to become the best nurse and librarian I can be. I will learn the things from my mother to make me a good wife and mother. Then we can marry and I’ll let you love me for the rest of my life.
Truly yours,
Constance
***
Jameson had finally been able to hire a foreman for his ranch, after spending the fall building a bunkhouse. Manuel Escobar had earned his position and after three months with Jameson, he was experienced enough to take over all of the menial jobs, as well as, some of the big ones.
“You’re sure you can handle it?” Jameson asked for the hundredth time that morning.
“Si, boss,” the man smiled. “I will make sure everything runs smoothly.”
“Thank you, Manuel. And tell Margarete that I said Merry Christmas.”
“Si, I will.”
Jameson grabbed his bags and headed for the train depot, snagging a comfortable bunk in the sleeping car. He unpacked his things and buried himself in a book for the first several hours before he went hunting the food car. Ordering dinner, Jameson enjoyed a beautiful steak with roasted potatoes and carrots. He drank coffee and wondered how Constance was going to react when he showed up on her doorstep.
[2015] Western Love Page 2
