Building a Conglomerate in Another World - Chapter 35 - The Deal is Struck

The Next Morning – April 15th, 1881, West Tejas.

The sun had barely risen, casting a pale light over the dusty camp. The workers were already up, moving with practiced efficiency as they manned the rigs and checked the pumps. The steady hum of activity filled the air, broken only by the occasional barked orders from Dalton.

Matthew stood near the main drilling site, his eyes scanning the operation one last time before he had to leave. Dalton, wiping sweat from his brow, approached him.

“All set here, Mr. Hesh,” Dalton said. “I’ll keep everything running smooth while you’re gone.”

Matthew nodded. “Good. Keep the pressure steady on the main rig, and don’t push too hard on Well Two.”

Dalton gave a quick, firm nod. “Understood. I’ll take care of it. You focus on sealing the deal in the city.”

Matthew turned, spotting Charles Fitzwilliam stepping out of the modest bunkhouse where he had spent the night. The older man adjusted his hat, looking somewhat out of place amidst the grime and chaos of the oil camp.

“Ready to head back?” Charles asked.

“Yes, sir,” Matthew replied. “I’ve left everything in Dalton’s hands. We can trust him to keep the crude flowing.”

Charles gave a satisfied nod. “Good. The sooner we get those contracts in order, the better.”

Matthew gestured toward the waiting wagon where Jennings held the reins, ready for the journey back.

“Let’s not waste any more time,” Matthew said, climbing up onto the wagon. Charles joined him, settling into his seat with a slight grunt.

Jennings flicked the reins, and the wagon lurched forward, leaving the camp behind.

The wagon bounced along the uneven dirt road, the sun climbing higher in the sky as they made their way back to the town. Four hours later, the town’s weathered wooden buildings came into view, the dust from the wagon wheels rising behind them like a thin plume of smoke.

Jennings brought the wagon to a stop in front of the railway station, where Matthew and Charles climbed down.

“Thank you Jennings, you can return now,” Matthew said.

“Safe travels Mr. Hesh, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Jennings tipped the tip and turned the wagon around.

Matthew and Charles Fitzwilliam stood on the wooden platform of the small railway station. They bought the tickets from the ticket booth bound to Sylvania and after that, they waited for the train.

The distant whistle of the approaching train echoed through the air. Matthew and Charles, tickets in hand, made their way toward the platform, where a stream of steam billowed from the waiting locomotive.

The moment it arrived, they boarded the train and handed their tickets to the conductor, who nodded and motioned them toward the first-class compartment.

Settling into their seats, Matthew couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief. The past few weeks had been exhausting, and though the real work was just beginning, he was eager to move forward. He glanced over at Charles, who had already pulled out a small leather notebook and was jotting down notes.

“Mr. Fitzwilliam, once we arrive in Sylvania, how quickly can we move forward with the contracts?” Matthew asked.

Charles looked up, adjusting his reading glasses. “I’ve already sent word to my legal team before I came here. They’ll have the paperwork ready for us to review as soon as we arrive. If all goes smoothly, we can finalize everything within a day or two.”

“You already informed your lawyers about it without even seeing the site first?” Matthew exclaimed softly.

“You are not the type of man who would deceive me right?” Charles looked him in the eye. “The moment I read the report, I knew I had to hold up the end of my bargain.”

“That’s so nice of you,” Matthew smiled. “Anyways…where is Amber? I was hoping I’d see her here.”

“She is in the house,” Charles replied, though there was a tinge of sadness in his tone.

“Something happened?” Matthew asked.

“Nothing, just focus on business.”

“Okay, if you say so.”

***

The journey back to Sylvania was long and arduous. For fifty hours, the train rattled along the tracks, cutting through the barren landscapes of West Tejas, crossing wide rivers, and finally pushing through the dense industrial outskirts of the city.

Charles Fitzwilliam spent much of the journey poring over documents, making notes, and planning the next steps for their investment. Matthew, on the other hand, stared out the window, his mind racing with plans for the automobile, oil refinery, rubber, steel, and others. He knew that as soon as they arrived in Sylvania, the real work would begin.

The train finally pulled into the grand Sylvania station just as the sun began its descent on the horizon. Matthew and Charles gathered their belongings and stepped off the train, greeted by the familiar cacophony of city life.

As they stepped onto the crowded platform, a sleek black carriage was already waiting for them. The Fitzwilliam family crest was emblazoned on the side, and Charles’s chauffeur, Andrews, stood at attention, ready to assist.

“Welcome back, Mr. Fitzwilliam,” Andrews said with a respectful nod, taking Charles’s suitcase. “I trust the journey was smooth?”

“As smooth as it could be on these rough tracks,” Charles replied with a tired smile. “Let’s get going. There’s much to discuss.”

Matthew climbed into the carriage after Charles, settling into the plush leather seats. The door clicked shut, and with a crack of the reins, they were off, weaving through the bustling streets of Sylvania.

Thirty minutes later.

The carriage finally came to a stop in front of the sprawling Fitzwilliam estate.

Andrews opened the door, helping them out of the carriage. “The lawyers are already here, sir,” he informed Charles. “They’ve been waiting in the study.”

“Excellent,” Charles said. He turned to Matthew. “Let’s not waste any more time. The sooner we finalize these agreements, the sooner you can secure your operation.”

***

Meanwhile, on one of the windows, Amber was looking out of the window, her eyes fixed on Matthew walking into the mansion.

Her lips curled into a smile at last as if she had missed him.

Charles led him down a long hallway to a spacious study, where a group of men in dark suits were already seated around a large mahogany table. Legal documents were spread out before them, and the air was thick with the scent of cigars that had been produced by lawyers’ cigars.

“Gentlemen,” Charles announced as he entered, “this is Mr. Matthew Hesh.”

The lawyers nodded politely, their eyes keen with interest as they assessed Matthew. Charles gestured for Matthew to take a seat, and the negotiations began in earnest.

For the next few hours, the room was filled with the sound of shuffling papers, the scratch of pens, and the low murmur of voices as terms were discussed, adjusted, and finalized.

Finally, as the clock struck six o’clock in the evening, the last signature was placed on the contract. Charles leaned back, a satisfied smile playing on his lips.

“Congratulations, Mr. Hesh,” he said, extending his hand. “You’ve just secured your future—and ours.”

Matthew shook his hand firmly. “Thank you, Mr. Fitzwilliam. This is just the beginning.”