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"Good," Caleb said with a little nod, his voice warm but carrying that steady undertone that always seemed to calm her nerves. "And pack your things tonight. Travel light. Soon as Miss Grimshaw and Hosea say yes, we're leavin'. No lingerin'."
Her lips curved into a small, satisfied grin as she nodded. "I'll be ready." Then her expression softened again, the firelight painting her face in shades of amber and rose. "You should get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."
Caleb exhaled a quiet chuckle and nodded. "Yeah. You're right." He stepped closer, lowering his voice even more as he bent slightly, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. "Good night, sweetheart."
Mary-Beth's cheeks flushed pink at the gesture, and a soft hum escaped her lips, like a little song only for him. "Good night, Caleb," she whispered back. Then, with one last glance, one last flicker of something warm and unspoken in her eyes, she turned and slipped gracefully back toward the glowing circle of laughter and music.
Caleb stood there in the dark for a moment, watching her go. The weight on his shoulders, heavy as a saddlebag of rocks, felt just a little lighter. Not gone. Never gone. But lighter all the same. Then he turned toward his tent, boots crunching against the cold earth, and disappeared into the quiet.
Inside his tent, Caleb lowered himself onto his bedroll., the worn bedroll felt rough on his ski . For the first time all day, he let out a full breath, closing his eyes as he stretched his legs out. The muffled roar of laughter and clinking bottles seeped through the tent walls like ghosts of a life that felt farther away by the hour.
But his mind didn't drift to the celebration. It turned back, again and again, to the things that gnawed at his gut like wolves circling the edge of the firelight.
That damned look in Dutch's eyes earlier, like he was a man with a secret so big it could crack the earth in two.
Caleb pictured those crates stacked in the wagon. Enough explosive to drop a steel train bridge or level a town bank. He'd seen plenty of outlaws blow safes before, but this? This was something else. And Dutch hadn't said a word about why. Not to Hosea. Not to Arthur. Sure as hell not to him.
He thought back to the game he once knew, the timeline, the beats, the moments burned into memory. But this? This wasn't in it. This was new. And new meant dangerous.
The questions churned like storm clouds in his head. But under them all, one thought stood firm, clear as a rifle shot.
'I can't let Mary-Beth get caught in the middle of this.'
If leaving camp kept her safe, even for a while, then it was worth the risk. And maybe, just maybe, stepping away from Dutch's madness would give Caleb the clarity he needed to figure out what to do next.
The night stretched long and heavy, and when dawn finally broke over the tent and stagnant water, the camp was a quiet graveyard of empty bottles and snoring outlaws.
Caleb was up early, boots laced, his few belongings packed tight in his saddlebag. Outside, the sky was painted in pale gold and soft gray, the air thick with the smell of damp earth.
Mary-Beth appeared not long after, her hair braided back, her little satchel slung across her shoulder. Her eyes were bright despite the lack of sleep. She'd packed light, just like he told her.
"You ready?" Caleb asked softly as she approached.
"Ready," she said with a nod, a flicker of excitement curling at the corners of her lips. But under it, he saw the nerves too. She'd never done something like this before, leave camp without the whole family knowing exactly why.
"Alright," he murmured. "Let's find Grimshaw and Hosea."
They found Miss Grimshaw first, predictably already up and moving through camp like a storm in skirts, collecting laundry and barking orders at the few souls sober enough to hear her. Her sharp eyes cut to Caleb and Mary-Beth the second they approached.
"What is it?" she demanded, arms full of linens, suspicion already lacing her tone. "Don't tell me you two are sneakin' off for some foolishness."
Mary-Beth stepped forward before Caleb could speak, her voice calm but carrying that earnest edge Grimshaw respected. "Miss Grimshaw, I wanted to talk to you about somethin' important. I've been thinkin' about ways I can help the gang more than just chores."
"You know I've found good leads before, and I was thinkin'… if I go with Caleb to Valentine for a while, I can talk to the ladies there. Places men can't go without lookin' suspicious. Maybe dig up information, like banks, stage schedules, anything useful."
Miss Grimshaw's eyes narrowed to slits. "Valentine? And why would you need Caleb for that?"
Caleb stepped in, calm and steady, his voice carrying that easy charm that had saved his hide more than once. "Because it ain't safe for her to go alone, Miss Grimshaw. Town's rowdy, full of drunk cowboys and worse. I'll keep her safe, make sure no trouble finds her."
Miss Grimshaw crossed her arms, tapping one finger against her elbow, the wheels in her head spinning. "And why now?"
Mary-Beth jumped in smooth as silk. "Because we can't just sit and wait for Dutch's plans all the time. I want to contribute more. Like the Scarlett Meadows train lead." Her tone was firm but respectful, reminding Grimshaw of her past success. "This could help the gang."
Miss Grimshaw stared at her for a long, sharp moment, then shifted her gaze to Caleb. Her eyes bored into his like twin bullets. He met that gaze steady, unflinching. Finally, with a sharp exhale through her nose, Miss Grimshaw turned away.
"Fine," she muttered, tossing a sheet into a washtub. "But you keep her outta trouble, Caleb. And you both check in when you can."
"Yes, ma'am," Caleb said with a little tip of his hat. "You have my word."
Mary-Beth smiled faintly, relief washing over her face, but she kept it subtle. Miss Grimshaw wasn't the type to appreciate gloating.
Next came Hosea. They found him by the edge of camp, rolling a cigarette with those old, clever hands of his. He looked up at Caleb with a knowing glint before the man even opened his mouth.
"You're leavin' for a while," Hosea said simply, smoke curling from his lips.
Caleb froze, then chuckled low. "You always did see too much."
Hosea smiled faintly, eyes twinkling. "Just don't do anything Dutch'll lose his mind over. Lord knows we don't need more tension around here."
"Don't worry," Caleb said softly. "This ain't about Dutch. Just business."
Hosea studied him for a beat longer, then nodded. "Alright. Take care of her. She's a good girl."
"I will," Caleb promised.
After that was done, they saddled up. The camp was stirring but still sluggish, most folks nursing hangovers too heavy to notice their quiet departure.
Mary-Beth swung onto Morgan with surprising grace, her satchel bouncing lightly against the saddle horn. Caleb then mounted as well sitting behind her, glancing back at the camp one last time.
For a moment, Caleb wondered if he should say something to Arthur first. But no… better this way. No questions. No chances for Dutch to catch wind and twist it into something ugly.
He turned back to Mary-Beth, their eyes meeting in silent understanding. And then, with a soft click of his tongue, he nudged Morgan forward, the two of them riding together, leaving the camp behind.
Together they rode north, the early sun painting the sky in ribbons of gold and pale blue as the chill of dawn clung to the earth. The camp lay far behind them now, its crackling fire and echoes of last night's revelry nothing more than fading ghosts on the wind. Morgan's hooves beat a steady rhythm against the dirt trail as they left the thick woods and moved into the open stretches of Scarlett Meadows.
Mary-Beth had her posture straight, her braid swaying gently against her back as the wind caught it. The crisp air carried the scent of wildflowers and damp earth, a sharp contrast to the smoke and sweat of camp.
For a while, they rode in silence, letting the vastness of the Heartlands swallow the noise in their heads. But Caleb knew her thoughts were churning just as much as his.
Finally, he broke the quiet, his voice lazy and teasing, carrying that familiar lilt she'd grown to love. "So," he drawled, leaning forward a little, "we're gonna be ridin' into Valentine together. You reckon we need some kind of disguise?"
Mary-Beth tilted her head back slightly, half smiling over her shoulder as she looked at Caleb. "Disguise? Like what, masks and fake names?"
Caleb chuckled low, the sound deep and warm like good whiskey. "Could, if you want to make it real dramatic. But…" His tone shifted playful, almost wicked. "I was thinkin' we just act like what we are right now."
Mary-Beth blinked at him, curious. "And what's that?"
He grinned wide, eyes glinting with mischief. "Pair of lovers, of course. Nothin' suspicious about that, right? Just a fella and his lady enjoyin' some time in town. You let me do the talkin', keep it simple."
Her cheeks flushed instantly, color blooming like a sunset across her skin. She let out a little hum, part embarrassment, part amusement, before finally replying in a soft voice, "Fine. If that's what keeps folks from askin' questions."
Caleb grinned at that, satisfied. "Atta girl."
They rode on, conversation slipping into easy chatter as they passed through the rolling green expanse of Scarlett Meadows. Wild deer's grazed in the distance, and every so often a cluster of birds lifted from the marshes, wings beating against the morning light. From there, they crossed Dewberry Creek.
The trail wound onward, cutting through the grassy Heartlands, where herds of wild horses galloped free in the distance, their silhouettes moving like spirits against the horizon.
They passed Twin Stack Pass, its twin peaks casting long shadows across the plain, and finally rode past the looming stone spine of Citadel Rock, the last sentinel before Valentine.
As they crested the ridge, the little town sprawled below them, bathed in mid morning light. Smoke curled from chimneys, the sound of hammers rang from the smithy, and the distant whistle of a train cut sharp through the air.
Mary-Beth let out a soft sigh as the familiar sight filled her eyes. "Funny," she murmured, a gentle smile tugging her lips. "I didn't think I'd miss this place. But it feels… good to be back."
Caleb chuckled at that, glancing at her sidelong. "Gotcha. It's 'cause you've been away too long. Unlike me." His grin turned smug as he added, "I was here for around a week last time."
She giggled softly, the sound light and melodic in the quiet air. "Guess it's just a change of air. From the smell of the river back at camp to the smell of livestock here."
Caleb laughed, the sound rumbling low in his chest. "Ain't that the truth."
Morgan's hooves clattered over the wooden planks as they passed near the train station. The big iron beast sat hissing on the tracks, belching steam into the sky. They reached the three way intersection and Caleb guided Morgan left, toward the main street of Valentine.
The town was waking up in full now. Wagons rolled by, shop doors swung open, and townsfolk milled about, tipping hats or offering greetings. Caleb tipped his hat back, his easy smile flashing like sunlight on steel.
"Caleb!" someone called from across the street, a lanky ranch hand leaning on a hitching post. "Folks! Look who's back! And he's bringin' a beauty with him!"
Caleb grinned wide, voice carrying smooth as butter. "That's right," he called back, throwing his hand loosely around Mary-Beth's waist. "Boys, meet my woman. My partner. The one I aim to spend the rest of my life with."
That earned a chorus of whistles and teasing laughter from the onlookers. "Well now!" someone hooted. "Didn't think Caleb was the settlin' type!" Mary-Beth's face flared crimson, hot enough to put the sun to shame. She could only wave awkwardly, mumbling polite greetings while Caleb basked in the good natured ribbing like it was a summer breeze.
...
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 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 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: 1,656 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 8 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, and 2 Colm's Schofields
Bank: -