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Mary-Beth gasped softly beside him, her hand rising to cover her mouth again. "Oh, dear Lord…" she whispered. Her wide eyes darted between the two men, as if searching for reassurance that this wasn't true. But the grim set of Lenny's jaw gave her none.
Caleb's fists clenched at his sides. He had expected Dutch to play his usual games, manipulating both families, sowing chaos, reaping short term profits while the feud escalated. That was reckless enough.
But this? This was madness. In his past life, in the game he once knew, Dutch had at least still been playing both sides. Caleb himself had already shifted things by warning the gang not to mess with the Braithwaites, steering them toward siding with the Grays alone, so the gang don't go down the path the gang have in the game.
He had thought that would contain the damage. He had thought Dutch would see reason. But now it was clear Dutch had drifted into something far more dangerous, abandoning even his old patterns.
His jaw tightened as he forced himself to ask, "And no one tried to stop him? None of you? Surely Hosea, Arthur, even you, Javier, you must have known this was lunacy. Hell, even Bill has to see that's a suicide mission."
Lenny was quick to speak, his voice tinged with frustration and guilt. "We did. We all did. Arthur, Hosea, even me, we tried to talk him down maybe rxcept for Bill. Said it was suicide, said it was madness to go after both families like that. But Dutch… he's got this way about him, Caleb. You know how he is. He kept saying it was our big chance, that the gold was real, that it would set us free for good. And somehow, God help me, he convinced everyone. Even those of us who should've known better."
Javier's expression darkened as he took over.
"At first, it went smooth. Two teams, two sets of dynamite. We lit up the outskirts of both estates at the same time, barns, storehouses, fences, you name it. Fire and thunder everywhere. For a moment, it looked like maybe Dutch was right. We searched fast, tore up half the land… but we didn't find a damn thing. And before long, the guards came swarming. Too fast. Too organized. Like they knew we were coming."
Lenny's voice dropped, heavy. "They hunted us down like dogs. Bill caught a bullet in the shoulder. We barely slipped away, wearing those sack masks Dutch made us bring. If not for the masks, both families would already know who we are. Even so, Trelawny says they're out for blood. Been searching their lands day and night, looking for us."
Mary-Beth let out a shaky breath, lowering her hand from her lips. "Oh why things happened like this…" she murmured softly, her tone carrying both sorrow and fear.
Caleb's face had gone solemn, his eyes shadowed as he processed every word. This was worse than he had feared. Far worse. Dutch wasn't just reckless anymore, he was unraveling. Chasing fantasies of buried gold, dragging the gang into blood feuds they couldn't possibly win, and gambling with all their lives.
He drew in a slow, measured breath, then exhaled through his nose, his thoughts racing. He couldn't comprehend what Dutch was thinking anymore. The man's outlook, his supposed vision for freedom, seemed more like madness by the day. Caleb had done everything in his power to change the trajectory, to steer them toward safer waters. But it was like Dutch was actively seeking out storms instead.
As these grim thoughts weighed on him, movement in the camp caught his eye. Across the clearing, two familiar figures emerged from behind one of the wagons. John and Arthur were walking side by side, their voices raised in heated tones. Whatever they were discussing, it carried the weight of frustration. Their postures were stiff, their gestures sharp, an argument, no doubt.
But when their eyes fell on the returning wagon, both men abruptly stopped. Arthur's gaze fixed on Caleb and Mary-Beth, his blue eyes narrowing in surprise. John's head tilted slightly, his expression a mix of relief and wariness. The sight of Caleb standing there with Lenny and Javier, the wagon full of supplies behind him, seemed to stall their quarrel mid-step.
"Caleb," Arthur said finally, his voice gruff but tinged with something almost like relief. "Mary-Beth. You're back."
John crossed his arms, leaning slightly on one leg as his gaze flicked toward the loaded wagon. "And the two of you didn't come empty handed, either. Pretty good haul of supplies if you ask me."
The tension in the air shifted subtly, the return of Caleb and Mary-Beth stirring the camp out of its gloom, if only for a moment. Eyes began to turn toward them from other corners of the clearing, curious, cautious, even hopeful.
Caleb met Arthur's gaze squarely, then glanced toward John, before looking back at the two men beside him. He could feel the weight of the gang's mood pressing in, the fragility of it all. Whatever came next, he would have to tread carefully.
Dutch was unraveling, Hosea was estranged, and the rest of the gang was adrift. If Caleb wanted to protect Mary-Beth, protect himself, and maybe, just maybe, keep the gang from tearing itself apart too soon, he would need to act with precision.
For now, though, he forced a small, measured smile, his voice carrying steady across the clearing.
"Yeah," he said. "We're back. And we've got plenty to share."
"We thought that the two of you going to live in Valentine for good, after all the two of you have been gone for so long," John added, his tone casual but full of teasing.
"We were workin'," Caleb stated amusedly, not breaking eye contact with Arthur and John. "Mary-Beth here gathered some valuable information. And with the money I managed to… acquire… from a few choice targets, we decided the best use of the gang's cut was to turn it into something useful," he jerked his thumb toward the wagon, "this is the result. The gang's cut, turned into something more useful than cash in the lockbox for now. Food, medicine, ammunition, blankets, and many more."
Arthur's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing Caleb. He was looking for a lie, a crack in the story. But Caleb's demeanor was calm, his story just plausible enough. The sheer volume of supplies was undeniable proof of some kind of success he and Mary-Beth have.
"Workin'," John sarcastically tease. "Looked more like a vacation from where we were sittin'. While we were gettin' shot at by inbred aristocrats, you were… what? Buyin' linens?" He gestured at a bolt of cloth visible in the wagon.
"John," Arthur warned, but his tone was more energetic and funnier. Like the exhaustion and stress from the failed raid that were weighing heavily on him slowly lifted up from his shoulder.
"It's the truth," Mary-Beth spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. She stepped slightly forward, placing herself between Caleb and John's teasing. "We heard about… what happened. We're sorry we weren't here. But we're here now. And we brought help." She gestured to the wagon, a tangible offering of peace.
Arthur's gaze further softened as he looked at Mary-Beth. He had a soft spot for her, for all the women in the camp who were just trying to survive the men's mistakes. He let out a long, weary sigh, running a hand over his face.
"Well, the help is welcome, I suppose," he said with a tired smile. "God knows we need it. But you've got some explainin' to do to Dutch. He ain't been himself." He shot a dark look toward the large tent at the back center of camp.
"We know," Caleb said. "Lenny and Javier filled us in."
Arthur nodded grimly. "Then you know what you're walkin' into. He's blamin' everyone. Hosea for underminin' him. The rest of us for lack of faith. He'll see that wagon as either a threat or an insult."
"Or," a new voice interjected, smooth and weary, "he'll see it as a lifeline."
They all turned. Hosea Matthews stood at the entrance of his small tent, looking older than Caleb had ever seen him. His face was pale, and there were deep bags under his eyes, but his gaze was sharp and clear as it took in the scen, the wagon, the reunited group, and the palpable tension radiating from everyone.
"Hosea," Arthur said, his voice filled with concern.
Hosea gave a small, tired smile. "It's good to see you two. Truly." His eyes met Caleb's, and in that look, Caleb saw a profound understanding. Hosea knew there was more to the story, but he also recognized an opportunity.
A wagon full of supplies, arriving in the midst of despair, was a powerful symbol. It was a statement that someone was still planning, still providing, and still thinking about the future of everyone.
"The camp could use some good news," Hosea continued, his voice gaining a little strength. "Why don't we unload this? Let everyone see that not all hope is lost."
It was a strategic move, and a brilliant one. By immediately distributing the supplies, they would bypass Dutch's potential tantrum and directly win the gratitude of the gang. It would solidify Caleb's position not as a delinquent member, but as a benefactor.
Caleb nodded. "Alright. Let's get to it."
As Lenny, Javier, John, and Mary-Beth began unloading the wagon, handing out sacks of coffee, tins of food, and other supplies to the curious gang members who were now emerging from their tents, Caleb stood with Arthur and Hosea.
Hosea had drifted closer to Caleb and Arthur while the others worked, his sharp eyes studying the wagon and the way the camp slowly bloomed with a sense of life again. His voice was low, careful, but it carried weight.
"So tell me, son," Hosea began, his tone measured, "what did the two of you really do in Valentine? And… is it safe enough there for us to show our faces? I've heard rumblings, but you were there long enough to see things proper."
Caleb looked at him steadily, knowing this was one of those moments where Hosea's instincts were probing for the truth. "Mary-Beth was mostly gathering information," Caleb said evenly. "She's got a knack for it, and folks in town hardly pay her any mind. I took what she brought me, and I picked a few targets, merchants, travelers with more coin than sense. Made enough to turn the gang's cut into something useful. But it took time. That's why we stayed as long as we did."
Hosea hummed, rubbing at his chin, the lines of his face deepening. He gave a small nod, the kind that showed he believed Caleb, at least enough to let the matter lie. "Fair enough. I suppose that's better than coming back empty handed. Supplies like these will do us more good than stacks of paper money Dutch would only waste." His gaze sharpened slightly, and he tilted his head. "But if there's anything more you'd like to say… it's just us here. Me, Arthur, and you. No ears but ours."
Arthur glanced at Caleb, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of curiosity there too.
Caleb shook his head slowly. "Not yet. It's not the time."
Because it wasn't. He could see it in their eyes, in the way Arthur still carried himself like Dutch's enforcer, even if doubts were chewing at his insides. Hosea's faith was strained, badly damaged by Dutch's madness, but he wasn't broken. Not yet.
And until they were desperate enough to face the truth, they wouldn't be ready to hear Caleb's. Hosea studied him for a long moment, then gave a single, thoughtful nod. Arthur exhaled through his nose, accepting the unspoken decision without further push.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 3)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 2)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,829 dollars and 46 cents
Inventory: 103,988 dollars and 50 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 58 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, 2 silver rings, 4 silver pocket watches, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, 2 Colm's Schofields, and land deed (Parcel)
Bank: -