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Caleb didn't look back. "Better hope they don't find out you had them in the first place." They rode out of Clements Cove at an easy pace, the sun dipping low over the marsh and the water reflecting molten gold. The weight of the money in Caleb's satchel felt good, better than the 700 dollars insult he remembered.
Arthur broke the silence first. "You've got a way with folks, Caleb. Not always a friendly way, but… effective."
Javier chuckled. "Effectiveness's what counts. Fifteen hundred for three horses? That's more than I thought we'd gonna get after that weasel of a man said 700 dollars."
"More than Tavish thought we'd get, too," Caleb said. "But that's his problem. Not ours."
Arthur on the other hand turned to look at Caleb, confusion and also curiosity on his face. "How the hell'd you know he'd cave?"
Caleb shrugged, tucking his cut into his satchel. "People like Clay? They're all bluster. They'll lowball you 'til you make 'em bleed."
Arthur gave him a long look. "You're damn scary when you want to be, you know that?"
Caleb smirked. "I try."
None of them mentioned the dead Braithwaite guard back at the manor, but the memory lingered between them, an unspoken reminder that this job had already taken a turn from the path it followed in Caleb's other life.
And maybe, just maybe, that meant other things would change too.
They rode on toward the horizon, the setting sun settling in warm and quiet around them as the day slowly turned night, carrying the weight of profit and possibility in equal measure.
They rode back to Clemens Point in under several minutes of steady travel, the swamp air thickening as the golden light faded toward twilight.
The campfires of home flickered faintly in the distance as they approached, the smell of burning wood mixing with the faint scent of marsh water. When they reached the clearing, Lenny and Charles, both posted on guard duty, were the first to notice their return.
"Evenin', fellas," Lenny called out with a friendly wave, his rifle resting casually against his shoulder. Charles gave a short nod in greeting, his eyes still scanning the treeline out of habit.
The three riders, Arthur in front, Caleb in the middle, Javier behind, returned the greetings almost in unison, the fatigue of the job softened somewhat by the satisfaction of riding in with more than they'd been threatened with earlier that day.
They dismounted, the creak of saddle leather giving way to the muffled thud of boots hitting dirt, and each led their horses to the hitching posts. The horses, still damp with sweat, flicked their ears and huffed through their nostrils, grateful to be still for a while.
Dutch was already waiting for them near the main fire, dressed sharply despite the muggy air, his posture radiating that blend of authority and performance he seemed to cultivate at all times. He stepped forward with a broad smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.
"Well, well… here they are," he greeted, his voice warm but edged with curiosity. "My three champions. How'd it go, boys? Smooth as Tavish promised?"
They returned the greeting, though Caleb noticed the way Arthur's and Javier's nods were slower, less certain.
Dutch's gaze sharpened slightly as he continued, "So… tell me. Did you get it? The five thousand dollars Tavish Gray so confidently said you could wring from those Braithwaite horses once you sold 'em?"
At that, Caleb instinctively glanced toward Arthur, then Javier. Neither man spoke, but both gave him the smallest of nods, silent agreement that they ought to tell Dutch the truth straight. There was no point in spinning it, this was something they couldn't alter or fix now, and lying would only dig the hole deeper.
After all, in a way, they'd fallen into a web Tavish had spun, whether knowingly or through pure ignorance, by dangling an unrealistic payout in front of them, pointing them toward buyers who were never going to hand over five thousand dollars for three horses, no matter their pedigree.
Caleb reached into his satchel, the weight of the bills crinkling against his fingers. He pulled the money out, fifteen hundred dollars in neat stacks, and placed it into Dutch's waiting hand.
Dutch took it, but his face betrayed a flicker of skepticism even before he began to count. His fingers moved with practiced precision, the campfire casting long shadows over the bills. When he finished, his eyes came back up, locking on Caleb with an expression that was no longer skeptical but demanding.
"This," Dutch said slowly, "is not five thousand dollars. This is fifteen hundred."
His voice hardened. "What happened on the job?"
Caleb didn't flinch. He took a breath and spoke plainly, "The buyer Tavish Gray directed us to, Clay and Clive Davies, a pair of twin brothers, were only willing to give us seven hundred at first. I talked Clay up to fifteen hundred after some persuasion… and a bit of intimidation. That was as far as he'd go without walking away entirely.
"So either Tavish didn't know these brothers weren't willing to pay near what he promised… or he did know, and the five thousand was just a story to get us moving. Either way, I think Tavish just wanted to use us to stir trouble for the Braithwaites this time."
When Caleb finished, Dutch's face darkened, his jaw tightening slightly. He turned toward Arthur and Javier, as if seeking confirmation.
"What Caleb just said… is it true?"
Arthur gave a short nod. "It's true, Dutch. Don't know if Tavish set us up or just didn't know, but if it weren't for Caleb stepping in, we'd be sitting here with seven hundred instead of fifteen hundred."
Javier added, "That's near a third of what Tavish promised, Dutch.. Could've been worse, hell, it should've been worse, but Caleb kept us from getting robbed blind."
Dutch grunted, the sound somewhere between agreement and dissatisfaction, before turning his full attention back to Caleb. In his eyes, Caleb could see the weight of the unspoken, plans needing money, dreams needing fuel, and the irritation of seeing numbers fall short.
His tone dipped into something low and heavy, "I don't care if your theory about the Grays is right or wrong, Caleb. What I care about is this, why didn't you push for more? Two thousand. Twenty five hundred. Half of what we were promised at least."
The question caught Caleb off guard, and judging by the shared look between him, Arthur, and Javier, it caught them too. In their minds, it was obvious, Clay Davies wasn't going to hand over a penny more than Caleb had squeezed out of him. Pushing further would have risked losing everything.
Caleb answered, steady and even, "Because I knew Clay wouldn't give more than that. We were already close to him calling it off. Better to lock in fifteen hundred than reach for more and walk away with nothing."
Arthur stepped in to back him, his voice carrying a note of quiet firmness. "He's right, Dutch. I was the one talking at first, and Clay was ready to break the deal even then. Caleb saved it. Asking for more than that wasn't gonna happen."
Dutch's gaze shifted to Arthur, and something passed across his face, a glint of hurt pride, maybe even the faint sting of betrayal. Arthur's words, in Dutch's mind, weren't just support for Caleb, they were a chink in the once unwavering wall of loyalty between them.
"I don't care," Dutch snapped suddenly, his composure slipping into sharpness. "You should've gotten more. We need that money, I needed that money. For the plan I'm putting together. And now—"
He cut himself off, visibly forcing his temper down. When he spoke again, his voice was eerily calm. "And now I have to rework the whole damn thing because you couldn't get more out of Clay."
Javier looked between them, caught off guard by the force of Dutch's reaction. He'd expected disappointment, sure, but not this open edge of frustration. "Dutch, hermano, you can't be serious. Caleb got us more than we would've had. That's—"
"I don't care!" Dutch roared, his composure shattering. "We were promised five thousand! We needed five thousand! And now we're left scrambling because he didn't push hard enough!"
Arthur, for his part, stared at Dutch with a mixture of disbelief and caution. Something in the man's tone was… off. Wrong. He should have understood why Caleb couldn't press further. This wasn't how Dutch usually handled a setback.
When Dutch looked ready to lay into Caleb again, Caleb lifted a hand slightly, a silent gesture to Arthur to hold back. Internally, Caleb was just as confused, and angry, that Dutch seemed to be targeting him now. But outwardly, he kept his tone calm, even apologetic.
"Alright," Caleb said quietly. "I'm sorry I didn't get more, Dutch. If I ruined your plan, I'll make it up. I'll take a few more jobs, get that extra twenty five hundred together."
Dutch stared at him, his chest heaving. For a moment, Caleb thought he might lunge. Then, with a sharp exhale, Dutch turned away. "No need. What's done is done."
He reached into the stack of bills, peeled off six hundred, and handed it to Arthur. "For you three. Split it how you want."
Without another word, Dutch turned and walked toward his tent, the rest of the money clutched in his hand to be stored away.
The fire crackled in the silence he left behind. Arthur, Caleb, and Javier stood there a moment longer, the six hundred dollars feeling far lighter than it should have.
Arthur said nothing, just stared after Dutch's retreating form, his jaw tight. Caleb could see the thoughts turning behind his eyes, the same thoughts he was having himself.
Arthur was the first to speak, his voice low and furious. "What the hell was that?"
Javier shook his head, still staring after Dutch. "I've never seen him like that. Not over money."
Arthur just shook his head and then counted out the 600 dollars, dividing it into three equal stacks. He handed Caleb and Javier their shares, his movements stiff with barely contained frustration.
"Don't let him get to you," Arthur muttered to Caleb. "You did well today. Better than good."
Caleb pocketed his 200 dollars with a nod. "I know."
And he did. But he also knew something else, Dutch's outburst wasn't just about the money.
Something about that conversation didn't sit right. Dutch's reaction wasn't just about the money. It was about control… and maybe, for the first time, the realization that not everyone in camp was going to move exactly how he wanted anymore.
And that… that was dangerous.
The outburst from Dutch, sharp and unrestrained, had of course drawn the eyes and ears of the camp. Even if most pretended to mind their own business, whispers traveled faster than smoke here, curling between tents and fires until everyone knew the gist of what had happened, or at least, what they thought had happened.
Mary-Beth had been in her bedroll, her fountain pen hovering over a half filled journal page, when Karen's voice drifted in. "They're back," she said, the tone somewhere between gossip and simple news. "Caleb too."
Tilly added, "And from the sound of it, Dutch ain't happy."
Mary-Beth had looked up at that, brows knitting. Caleb had been gone for hours on a job, and the way Karen and Tilly's eyes carried a hint of sympathy told her enough, something about his return hadn't gone smoothly. She didn't ask questions, she simply closed her journal, set her pen aside, and stepped into the humid air.
She walked toward the camp entrance with a small but genuine smile. She'd been looking forward to seeing him, and whatever happened, she wanted to be the first to greet him. But as she neared the hitching post, her pace slowed as she heard Dutch's outburst and then saw him walking toward his tent.
She then arrived and saw Arthur, Caleb, and Javier standing together by the horses, a small stack of money being split three ways. Arthur clapped Caleb on the shoulder once, Javier did the same, and after a few quiet words, the two men walked off, leaving Caleb by himself.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 3)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
- Acting (Lvl 2)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,258 dollars and 48 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 4 gold rings, two silver rings, four silver pocket watches, a gold buckle, a gold pocket compass, a platinum pocket watch, and 2 Colm's Schofields
Bank: -