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She took it gladly, settling beside him. He then flicked the reins, and the horses pulled them forward. The wagon creaked and groaned under the weight, but it rolled true. As they left Valentine behind, dust rising beneath the wheels, Caleb glanced at Mary-Beth. She leaned against his shoulder, her eyes half lidded but peaceful.
"This is just the beginning," Caleb thought to himself. Strawberry was next. Then more towns. His empire would spread like wildfire.
But first, he need to focus on Clemens Point, along with the possible storm that was waiting for him and Mary-Beth there.
Following behind his wagon was of course Morgan. He had whistled for her to follow from behind, and due to their strong bond, and also his Horse Mastery Skill already sitting at Level 4, just one step short of the maximum, their connection had become something special. Morgan's loyalty was unshakable, her responses near instinctive, and it gave Caleb a deep comfort to know she was always there.
Morgan trotted up toward the side of the wagon, her glossy mane catching the afternoon light. Caleb chuckled at the sight of her and leaned over the side.
"Good girl," he said warmly. Reaching back into one of the sacks in the wagon bed, he pulled out an apple and held it out. Morgan eagerly took it from his palm, crunching happily.
"You'll need to keep up," Caleb told her, running his hand across her cheek before gripping the reins again. "We're going to push faster now. Think you can keep up with this old thing?"
Morgan snorted, tossing her head with several short neighs that Caleb understood perfectly, her way of saying 'don't worry, I can handle any pace, it's just a wagon you're driving. I could run circles around you.'
That made him laugh softly. "Alright, don't get cocky." He then flicked the reins in his hand, and the two wagon horses obediently surged forward, picking up their pace. The wheels rumbled louder across the dirt road, and Morgan let the wagon pull ahead of her for a moment before falling back into rhythm, following from behind with unshakable precision.
Mary-Beth, who had been leaning against his shoulder and drifting close to sleep, suddenly jolted from the sudden shift in speed, her grip tightening on his arm. "Oh!" Caleb quickly glanced at her, his face softening.
"Sorry," he said quietly. "Didn't mean to startle you like that. Just thought we ought to make better time."
Mary-Beth shook her head, brushing a strand of hair from her face.
"It's fine," she replied. "We do need to hurry, after all. Best we reach camp before evening. Can't risk riding too slow with all this—" she gestured toward the stacked supplies in the wagon bed—"especially in Lemoyne. Those Lemoyne Raiders might catch us, or worse, some other gang."
Hearing that, Caleb's expression hardened. He squeezed the reins lightly, his voice calm but resolute.
"Don't worry. If we cross trouble, I'll protect you. I'll put anyone who threatens us down before they even blink."
Mary-Beth chuckled softly at his tone, shaking her head. "I know you will. Never thought otherwise." Her smile was small but genuine, and Caleb felt a warmth settle in his chest.
They rode on like that, sometimes in silence, sometimes in easy conversation. Their talk drifted between small things, like the sights along the road, to more pressing matters, how they would answer Dutch's inevitable questions, or what Miss Grimshaw might say about their absence, while carefully omitting the existence of a legitimate, thriving business.
Caleb mulled over responses, already preparing lines that sounded useful but not incriminating. Mary-Beth teased him a little for overthinking, but he knew better than to underestimate Dutch's suspicion.
The wagon rolled along the main road south, the steady clatter of wheels accompanying the whistle of passing wind. Beside them, train tracks cut through the land, an occasional gust of smoke drifting up from a distant engine. After some time, the land changed, the signs marking the state border came into view, and soon they were crossing into Lemoyne. Scarlett Meadows stretched wide around them, its green pastures rolling beneath the brightening sky.
Eventually, they came upon a three way crossroad. Caleb guided the reins carefully, turning the wagon right toward the forest. There was no true road here, just a narrow path beaten down by time and scattered travelers. The wagon rocked and jolted as it rolled across loose stones, the branches of bushes scraping against the wheels. Caleb held steady, jaw set, while Mary-Beth gripped the seat to keep her balance.
At last, they reached a clearer dirt path that wound deeper south, cutting through a thick forest. Shadows fell heavy across their faces, the canopy above swallowing much of the daylight. Birds cawed and flitted through the branches, and the wagon creaked through the rough undergrowth. Eventually, the trees began to thin, and the world opened again.
Flat Iron Lake shimmered in the distance, its wide blue surface glittering beneath the sinking sun. Ahead of it sprawled the familiar clearing of Clemens Point, the gang's camp nestled in its usual circle of wagons and tents. But something felt wrong.
Unlike before, the camp's energy was subdued. Where once laughter and movement often carried through the clearing, now there was only a muted quiet. The fires smoldered low, and only a few people moved about listlessly. The mood was flat, almost bleak.
Mary-Beth's brow furrowed. Caleb's stomach tightened as darker thoughts crept in. What happened while we were gone? A Pinkerton raid? A deadly internal conflict? Had Dutch's madness finally boiled over into something catastrophic? Did something go wrong with Dutch's plan? With Hosea? Did someone die?
He gripped the reins tighter, mind racing with possible scenarios.
Two figures stood near the edge of camp, keeping watch. As the wagon drew closer, they stiffened, weapons ready, until recognition dawned on their faces. It was Lenny and Javier. Relief broke across their features, and both men stepped forward with grins.
"Well I'll be damned," Lenny called out, lowering his rifle. A weary smile broke through his concern. "Caleb! Mary-Beth! You two decided to come back after all!"
"About time," Javier added with a chuckle. "Gone more than a week, had us thinking you'd settled down permanent in Valentine amigo."
He guided the wagon to a stop, pulling the brake "Lenny. Javier," he greeted, his voice calm but laced with unasked questions before climbing down. Dust swirled around his boots as he landed. He turned, offering his hand to Mary-Beth. She took it gratefully, stepping down with practiced grace.
"We, uh, we apologize for the long absence," Caleb began, launching into their prepared story. "Our stay in Valentine proved more fruitful than we expected. 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 gestured with his thumb toward the heavily laden wagon.
Lenny circled around the wagon, curiosity pulling him to peek into the bed. His eyes widened at the sight of the stacked crates and sacks. He let out a sharp whistle. "Damn, Caleb! You two must've hit quite the jackpot! This is a mighty fine haul the two of you brought back."
Caleb nodded, arms folding across his chest. "We did alright. Took a small cut for me and Mary-Beth, but the rest went toward this. Figured the gang could use a proper share of supplies instead of me handing Dutch loose bills."
Javier came closer, his dark eyes narrowing with curiosity. "Well, we'll see what Dutch thinks about that. He's been in a mood lately."
Caleb's gaze flicked from Javier to the camp, noting again the lack of liveliness. "That's what I was about to ask. Why's everyone looking so down? Doesn't feel like the usual camp."
The question hung in the air, heavy. Lenny and Javier exchanged a glance, both men clearly aware of something, but hesitant to speak it outright. Finally, Lenny exhaled and rubbed the back of his neck.
"It's… it's Dutch, Caleb," Lenny said, his voice low. "It's been bad since you left. Real bad. The job that Dutch planned involved those dynamites… it went sideways. Real ugly. And then… and then Hosea, he and Dutch… they had a hell of a fight. A real blowout. Words were said that… well, that can't be taken back."
Javier picked up the thread, his face looking older than its years. "Hosea's been keeping to himself ever since. Barely talks with other sexcept for Jack and Arthur. As for Dutch… he's been holed up inside his tent, planning God knows what. The rest of us… we're just stuck in the middle. No one knows what to do. It's like the heart has been ripped right out of this gang."
Caleb and Mary-Beth both froze when they heard Lenny's words. Their eyes turned toward each other, a silent exchange of disbelief passing between them. Caleb's brows furrowed hard, while Mary-Beth's hand instinctively went to cover her mouth. Of all the things they expected to find when they returned, a blowout between Dutch and Hosea wasn't one of them.
Caleb especially felt a ripple of unease. He knew Dutch. He knew Hosea. The two were the heart of this gang, the balance of fire and reason that kept everyone else from flying apart at the seams. Dutch, for all his grandiosity and recklessness, usually went out of his way to keep Hosea close, to convince him, to cajole him into standing at his side.
And Hosea… Hosea had always been the one to temper Dutch, and when words between them grew heated, he usually walked away rather than let it spill out before the camp. Their disagreements, their arguments, those were private things, kept behind closed tent flaps where the others couldn't see the cracks in their partnership.
But now? The idea that they had fought openly, and bitterly at that, shook Caleb more than he wanted to admit. If Dutch and Hosea were divided in front of the gang, then things were far worse than he'd thought.
Turning back to Lenny and Javier, Caleb's voice was steady but low, carrying the weight of restrained alarm.
"What kind of plan was Dutch pushing that took that much dynamite?"
Both men hesitated. Lenny's lips pressed together, his gaze dropping as if weighing how much he should say. Javier, though, finally gave a slight shake of his head, his voice rough. "You won't believe it when I tell you."
"Try me," Caleb replied flatly.
Javier rubbed the back of his neck and then spoke, each word feeling like it soured on his tongue. "Dutch said he had it all figured out. That the Braithwaites and the Grays, both of 'em, were sitting on hidden gold. Stashes buried right under their land. He swore he had the locations from some mysterious contact he'd met. Said all we had to do was strike hard, in the dead of night, hit both families at once, blast as section of their land and outbuildings wide open with dynamite. Create chaos, dig up the gold, and be gone before they knew what hit them."
Caleb's entire body went still. His mind reeled, his chest tightening like a vice. He stared at Javier in disbelief, waiting for some sign that this was a cruel joke. But Javier's dark eyes held no humor, only weariness and shame.
"Gold?" Caleb muttered at last, voice low and incredulous. "Dutch really thought he'd just… blow up some section of their land and outbuildings in this two estates and find gold buried in the dirt like some fairy tale?"
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.
...
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: -