The Reed Central California Trust was a newly minted mining company when Ulysses Walker proposed a marriage between Reed’s son and heir Adolphus and his daughter Isabella, long the secret to the success of the Ulysses Walker Trust. The RCC and UW Trusts combined to become as formidable a company were the two great families. Isabella kept her maiden name as a reminder that hers was an older and more valuable brand. The Walker Reeds had two children in quick succession: James named for his bachelor uncle and Leticia named after her Great Grandmother, wife of a Grandee of Spain. But business was what the Walker Reeds grew. Spawning dozens of smaller companies, the combined trusts took to buying up everything that California had for sale. Land, of course, and natural resources and, finally, the very foundation of all business: banks.
“Father!” shouted Leticia Walker Reed throwing her arms around her father. Because he was still astride his horse, Letty jumped into the saddle by placing her right foot atop her father’s in the stirrup and swing herself up onto his lap.
“Letty!” said her uncle James, is that the only way to get you to ride side saddle?”
“Uncle James, Father promised he’d return in a week and that was two weeks ago! And he promised to bring me all the new books from San Francisco.”
“They’re on the way from town now, darling,” said Adolphus Reed. “You know we’d never be able to carry all of them on horseback.”
“You want to kill old Charger?” teased Uncle James.
“I thought you carried gold and silver both on the sires of these very horses in ’49 and ’50!” she replied.
“Grand or Great Grand Sires by now. Great genes, all of ‘em. Could go straight over the mountain, too!” Uncle James was nostalgic for the old days. He and his big brother were born in a mining camp and had indeed carried millions of dollars worth of precious metals over the mountains on many storied trips across the high San Clemente range. “No these horses are gentrified now. Have to keep ‘em in a stable while we take a train.”
“You enjoyed the dining car and the bar car well enough, Jimmy,” said Letty’s father as he lowered her from the horse. She had manage to pick his pocket.
“You more’n me, Dolfus! I fear our old horses wouldn’t recognize us.”
“Oh Daddy! For me?” Though she was 23 years old and the owner of two degrees from the University of California, Letty Walker Reed could still sound like a miner’s little girl. This even though she’d only heard stories about the trails and camps from her father and uncle, Letty insisted upon being called Clementine until she was twelve.
“A book for you and a bank for your mother.”
“James!” Adolphus Reed was not an educated man but he was smart and the smart money didn’t believe women had any sense when it came to business. Mr. Red didn’t like discussing business in the open air, in the parlor or in front of the women – especially when other men were around. The Walker Reed women had been advising for years but mainly at the dinner table or, in the case of Isabella Walker Reed, the bedroom.
“Don’t worry, Dolfus. You’re secret is safe with me. You and your wife have made me a rich man indeed. I’ll never let on that she’s smarter’n both of us.”
“Not a tough task, Jimmy!” The men dismounted and walked their horses to the creek that ran from Waterwood to the mill in town. On the two-hour, ten-mile ride, the brothers traversed nothing but land they owned. The mill, Walker’s Mill, had long since evolved into the railroad and telegraph station and the Walker Reeds owned that too.
“A bank?” Letty was distraught. She followed the men and horses to the water’s edge. “I told the both of you that financial equity is a risky investment in the best of circumstances and a zero sum game in the tough times ahead. That damned dust bowl is still swirling towards us and what it means for the economy is largely unknown.”
Dolfus Reed didn’t like being lectured by his daughter and his face showed it. The fact that Leticia Walker Reed had spent twelve more years in school than her father was beside the point. “Letty, darling. You leave the business to the men –”
“Father! I’ll have you know that I will vote in the next election or at least the one after that—”
“Letty!” It was her mother. “Let the men water those horses. You’ll ruin that dress.”
“And don’t give advice unless you’re asked!” teased Uncle James. Before the trip to San Francisco, James Reed had spent two hours listening to his niece’s advice. What she said made sense to him. Good horse sense! They spent much of the ride into town three weeks ago discussing much of it. James Reed left Walker’s Mill comfortable about the purchase they were contemplating though Letty didn’t know the details. He was also determined to ask the advisors in San Francisco about something called soy futures.
‘We’re going to have a lot of hungry people in this state. We should invest in nonperishable foods, and farm land before—”
“Now Leticia,” said her mother, “run along and read you book if that is what that horrible thing you’re holding is.” Then to her husband: “I can only imagine what witchcraft she’ll learn next. These books and the ideas in them.”
“What’s in it Father?”
“That’s just it, Letty. No one can read the damned thing—“
“Adolphus! Language.”
“Unclaimed bank assets,” said Uncle James.
“Banks! There is only one solvent bank in this country, Daddy.”
“Don’t you want to know what bank you’ll end up owning after we kick the bucket?”
“James!” it was Isabella.
“Jimmy gets it all anyway,” said Letty.
“If he lives that long,” said Abolphus of his son. James Walker Reed had a taste for a life much sweeter than the uncle for whom he was named. He was currently traveling in Europe with a ne’er-do-well friend from school.
“Adolphus!”
“Besides, your ideas have been sound,” added Uncle James. “You already own thirty per cent of the bank. Don’t you want to know what it’s called?”
“James! What are you men talking about?” Isabelle was nearly beside herself. Talking business in the open was one thing but talking about business with women – out of doors – and including women in the asset distribution... It was nearly too much.
“Unless that name is Wells or Fargo,” interjected Leticia.
“How about both?” said James Reed.
The Walker Reed women could just stare, gate-mouthed. The Reed men smiled sweetly back. They had purchased both of what many of the brighter minds in finance believed the only two banks that would come out of the current financial crisis in tact.
No more was discussed out in the open. But there would be a nice long talk during dinner.
