The Last Chapter: Swenson Farm Legacy

By Jeanne Martz

This novel is the third in a series of the Swenson Farm mysteries. Will Swenson Farm be left in capable hands when Nels Swenson is gone?

Grandson, Mario Fontanini, narrates The Last Chapter, which promises to be an intriguing tale of romance and mystery in his quest to leave Iowa and establish a career in San Franciso.

His first love, Lupita Morales, returns to Swenson Farm and gives him pause to stay, but Grandpa Nels persuades him to leave before he gets hurt by Lupita again.

His journey to the big city opens up opportunities to travel, write, experience new cultures, and meet a girl named, Sandy, in Afghanistan, and a promising romance with Rebecca, a fellow journalist. His biggest accomplishment is helping solve the mysterious disappearance of Nels’s adopted son, Bobby.

Hans Swenson, a dedicated son to farm life, falls under the spell of Lupita Moralas. Will he too end up with a broken arrow through his heart?

With only one biological heir, who will be left standing to carry on the Swenson Farms Legacy?

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Apr 5, 2024
• ISBN: 9781663260802

Jeanne Martz

Jeanne Martz is the author of four books. “The Sons of Nels Swenson” is a sequel to her book “The Women of Swenson Farm” published in 2015. Her love for rural communities, farming, and country folk has inspired her books. She is a graduate of Iowa State University and has always called Iowa home.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

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I watched the road from the front porch of my grandparents’ old farmhouse, where I had lived since the age of five. I waited most of the afternoon just to get a glimpse of Lupita Morales as she drove by in her little red Ferrari. The word was she was coming home from California after a long absence, six years to be exact. I knew she would have to pass through our vast stretch of farmland to reach her family’s less extensive acres down the road, which my grandparents also owned and shared profits with Senor Morales.

I, Mario Fontanini, and my uncle Hans had just celebrated our twenty-fourth birthdays. I should have left farm life here in Story County, Iowa, the minute I graduated from high school, but here I sit, waiting for another setback to keep me here, thinking, how can I leave now with Lupita coming back to Swenson Farms?

Lupita was my best friend, my first love, and my first kiss. She still considers me her good buddy, which is evident in the correspondence we’ve shared for the past six years. There’s been nothing intimate or flirtatious in her writing, only wanting advice, to unload her troubles, or to ask for help in important decisions. As hard as I’ve tried, I can’t shake the old physical and emotional sensations she sparks in me as far back as I can remember.

Grandma Kinley rang the dinner bell outside the back door, pulling me from my thoughts. I believe the call to dinner was more for Hans, who was in the barn milking, than it was for me. Milking had become his task after Grandpa Nels suffered a heart attack in February.

It seems there has been one crisis after another keeping me here for the past six years. Sticking around was the least I could do for the man who loved and cared for me all these years after my mother died. I’ve always been happy here at Swenson Farms, but the call to travel, to study abroad, and to experience cultures different from rural America beckons me continually.

Before going inside to dinner, I waited until a cylinder of rolling dust passed down the road, but it was only neighbor Johnson’s truck in front of the dirty cloud. Lupita would have to get used to her shiny red convertible being covered in country grunge and again savor the heavy farm smells of country living. I was sure, though, it was much healthier than inhaling California smog.

Once inside the house, I didn’t sit in my usual spot at the table. Instead, I opted for what used to be Bobby’s chair, so I could see the road from the dining room window.

Why the switch in places? Hans inquired as he swung into his established spot across from me.

Just wanted to be different, I said. I’m sure your adopted brother won’t care if I sit here. He’s been gone for almost seven years. I can’t believe we’re into 2004 already.

But you’re such a creature of habit, said Hans. Your butt mold is in the chair cushion over here. I know you well enough to know something’s on your mind, Mario.

Before I responded to Hans, I caught my grandmother’s eye. It was as if she knew what I was thinking. She smiled and nodded but said nothing. I could never hide or keep anything from her.

Then Grandpa offered, While we were working today, Henry told me Lupita was coming home. She may even be here by now. He was so excited, and young Enrique even more so.

Ah, mystery solved, Hans said. Isn’t it time for you to move on, Mario? Lupita made her choice years ago, and it wasn’t you. As he spoke, his face turned red, and he fidgeted with the silverware by his plate.

"She also spurned your attentions, dear uncle. In fact, you were never in the running," I said callously. He reached across the table and punched me hard enough on the arm to send me reaching for the table’s edge to keep my balance.

Not at the table, you two. Go to your rooms or take it outside, Grandpa shouted.

My apologies, Hans. That was mean of me. Sorry, I said.

Hans remained silent with a scowl as he heaped a pile of mashed potatoes on his plate and drowned it in gravy.

It was true. No matter how hard Hans tried to pretend his dislike for girls, he always treated them with kindness and respect, but Lupita was special, and he always had time for her whenever she needed a playmate for board games, a riding companion, or help with chores. I believe it’s safe to say he found her more charming than any of the other girls our age.

One time, he even offered her a bouquet of red flowers that grew wild on our property, after adding some from Grandma’s garden. He had witnessed me pick them for Lupita since we were children. I always gave her red flowers because she loved them so much. As I recall, he thought it would get him a date to our senior prom. Although Lupita loved and cherished the flowers, it didn’t get Hans a date or into her affections. Although Hans would never discuss such an embarrassing moment with me or anyone else, Lupita told me all about it when she shattered my intentions of taking her to the dance.

I’m going with Bobby, she said with a big smile.

On prom night, Bobby drove the car that took the four of us to the high school gymnasium for the dance, because he had a real date. I hung out with the other dateless nerds, and Hans was stalked all evening by a girl named Felicia Snodgrass.

I questioned my grandfather, who sat at the head of the table, Did Senor say if Lupita was driving or flying in from California?

She left two days ago, mainly because she didn’t want to leave that new Ferrari behind. And according to Senor Henry, she won’t be going back.

I didn’t think she would leave the Ferrari, but it wasn’t clear in the last letter I got from her, I replied.

So, she’s seriously leaving Bobby? Not that I care, but what will she do here in Story County? Hans interjected with a mouth full of food.

She’s just shy of finishing her veterinary degree. Hopefully, she’ll take the rest of her classes at Iowa State University in Ames. It’ll be different than her studies in California with all those exotic and wild species at the zoo where she worked. She’ll not only have a minor degree in marine life but one to practice on domestic and farm animals here in Iowa, Grandpa said. She won’t have any problem finding a job or keeping busy.

Do you think Bobby will ever come back home? Hans was on his second helping of mashed potatoes and gravy.

Bobby is at the peak of his career right now. If he does come back, it won’t be any time soon, I said.

Would he even be welcome, Pops? Hans asked, referring to Bobby’s abrupt departure. After graduation, Bobby had ventured into the world of boxing, rather than remain here at the farm, and then lured Lupita into that world too.

Of course, he would, Grandpa answered. Bobby knew what he wanted before the ink dried on his diploma. After winning the state championship in featherweight boxing in his senior year of high school, his confidence and boxing skills soared. When the offer came to join a national team tour, he didn’t hesitate to accept it. As the money increased with each win, so did his travels in the States and abroad. For a kid with Bobby’s background, he’s experiencing the time of his life—success, lots of money, admiration, and fame.

Well, after so many blows to the head and gut, he’ll have a short-lived career. Then how would that work out with Bobby and Lupita living so close and being separated? Hans continued to push.

I guess that would be their business, not ours. And why dwell on something that may never happen? Grandpa added.

I think it would be awkward for everyone, Hans said, and the subject was dropped.

Once supper was over, I asked to be excused because I had a test to study for. Although my career had been put on hold, I pursued my studies at nearby Iowa State, where I finished my core classes for most majors and branched out to classes in engineering, architecture, and political science.

Sitting in my desk chair, I positioned myself where I could see the road from my upstairs bedroom window. The streetlight in front of Tommy’s farm across the road allowed me to see any traffic coming or going in either direction. At ten o’clock, I finally gave up and went to bed.

CHAPTER 2

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I was up early and finished feeding the chickens, ducks, and barn cats. After the cows were fed, I opted to bypass Grandma’s usual breakfast fare and planned to grab a quick bite at the minimart near the Ames campus.

I felt sure I had aced the political science test in my first class, and then I hung out at the school library for an hour and a half until my next lecture in structural engineering of the nineteenth century.

I leafed through the pages of a book, not taking any interest in its content, my mind fixated on seeing Lupita later in the afternoon. What would I say? How should I act? Writing and answering her letters were not difficult because I had time to compose my remarks, but face-to-face, I felt insecure and unsure of myself as those dark eyes of hers penetrated deep into my soul. She should have studied psychology rather than veterinary medicine.

Before I realized it, the time had slipped away, and I was going to be late getting to my next class even though it was one building away. The lecture had started without me, and the only seats left were down front.

Mr. Fontanini, the professor said as I sheepishly slipped into a seat, let’s not make this a habit, or I will start recording your tardiness.

His foul breath was just inches from my face as he bent forward to deliver the warning. No, sir. It won’t happen again, I said.

As he turned and walked back to his podium, I pinched my nose and mimicked gagging with my tongue hanging out. Chuckles from those sitting close by filled the front of the room.

He turned abruptly and faced the class, but the room had turned quickly sober, and no perps were identified. Hans will get a kick out of this when I replay it at the dinner table.

Hans reacted just as I predicted. It was a real knee slapper.

That was so unlike you, Mario. You’ve always been so polite, courteous, and afraid to hurt anyone’s feelings. Hans laughed. I can’t believe you did that.

And you’ve never smelled his breath, I said. It was like a bucket of pig manure that had been sitting in a hot shed on a scorching summer day.

Oh stop—you’re killing me! He laughed until tears rolled down his cheeks.

After supper, I helped Grandma clear the table. I dried dishes as she washed and handed them to me.

If there’s nothing else you need me for, I said when we finished, I think it’s time I paid a visit to Lupita. I assume she’s home by now.

Yes, she is home. Grandpa was there this morning. He said she looks good.

Thanks, Grandma.

I met Hans coming out from the barn.

Where you headed? he asked.

To see Lupita.

Mind if I come too? I need to clean up a little first.

I’m going to ride Windy, hoping she wants to ride just like old times. Come on down the road when you’re ready. I galloped off, anticipating some time alone with her before Hans arrived.

For many years, it was just Lupita and I riding on Windy. Then Bobby came on the scene, and things changed. I believe she fell in love with his horse, Ebony, first. Her father gave Bobby the horse as a therapeutic gesture to help him adjust to a new life at Swenson Farms after both of his parents died under tragic circumstances. Grandpa adopted him shortly afterward.

When Bobby left our farm abruptly after graduation, Grandpa Nels gave Ebony back to Senor Morales. As much as I hate to admit it, the horse was the only thing that could console Lupita after Bobby left.

Lupita was riding out of their little barn as I rode up their drive. She stopped beside me in the opposite direction, her arms outstretched for me to embrace.

I was going to your place, wondering why you hadn’t come to see me yet, she said.

I had classes this morning, I answered, pulling her as close as our horses allowed. We always seemed to have the same thoughts, or we could finish each other’s sentences. Are you up for a ride? I spoke softly into her ear as I reached out.

That’s why I was heading in your direction, she said, her face close to my cheek.

You lead the way. I reined in Windy to follow her once I had straightened up in the saddle.

Anything new I haven’t seen? she asked.

Nothing of interest, I answered. They did change the channel of the North Skunk River farther up along the farmland. It’s supposed to keep it from flooding, though it hasn’t had a good test yet.

Let’s go there. She kicked Ebony’s sides, spurring him into action.

I raced alongside her as we crossed over the south forty acres. When we came to the river, we slowly meandered with the curve of the stream for the next two miles, conversing just like old times, her doing most of the talking and me listening and learning more details of her breakup with Bobby. It was more than she had written in her letters.

I knew the honeymoon was over just months into our first year of marriage, she said. He wanted me to drop out of school when it interfered with our time between boxing events, and he didn’t want me working at the little Mexican restaurant or at the zoo, where I was pulling in some spending money.

Wasn’t that the main reason you went out there in the first place? To study something other than farm animals? I replied.

Yeah, but I loved Bobby. He was a big part of why I wanted to study in California. But I was overly impulsive and so young at the time, to the point of hurting my parents, the Swensons, and you. Can you forgive me?

My mind played back our conversation the day before she used the plane ticket Bobby had sent her. Mario, you can’t tell a soul that I’m leaving. They’ll only try and stop me.

What about me, Lupita? What about me? I won’t let you go. That’s no kind of life out there for you. We’ve made so many plans. Don’t ruin them. Please stay here with me.

Mario, Bobby has claim to my heart. I miss him terribly and must go, she had said. A tearful embrace brought tears to my eyes, and that was it. She was gone the next day.

Her voice beside me broke through this very painful memory, Mario, please say you’ll forgive me.

Lupita, I forgave you long ago, I said gently. Are you sure that everything that took place between you and Bobby is water washed away under the proverbial bridge? I mean, is it like you’ve just wasted six years of your life with him? Are those chapters closed forever?

She looked off in the distance and hesitated. That told me everything. She still loved him. Bobby would always stand between us.

Finally, she said, "I left Bobby a letter. He should have seen it by now. It was very clear about how I feel about school