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Caleb chuckled, letting the kid off the hook. "Alright, alright. Just givin' you hell, Jasper." Everyone laughed, the tension breaking into easy camaraderie. After a bit more chatting, Caleb finally straightened, his voice turning brisk but warm. "Alright, folks. Keep up the good work. I'm headin' to the saloon for a drink."
He turned to Mary-Beth with a grin. "Care to join me?"
"Wouldn't miss it," she said, still smiling from all the introductions.
So they said their goodbyes to the staff, Jessie giving Mary-Beth a friendly wave, and stepped back out into the dusty street. The afternoon light had begun to mellow into the warm hues of early evening as they walked side by side toward the saloon.
The batwing doors creaked as they pushed inside, the familiar smells of whiskey and sweat wrapping around them like an old coat. Conversation hummed, glasses clinked, and from behind the polished counter, a booming voice rang out.
"Well, well! If it ain't the Poker King of Valentine!" Mr. Douglas roared with a grin, spotting Caleb the moment he stepped through. "And look at you, bringing a lady this time!"
Heads turned, and a few patrons grinned in recognition, tipping hats in Caleb's direction as the hum of chatter picked up. Mary-Beth flushed bright pink again, but Caleb just laughed low and easy, guiding her toward the bar like he owned the place.
"Still dealing bad hands, Mr. Douglas?"
"Only to folks who deserve'em!" the bartender laughed. "What'll it be for you and the lovely lady? First one's on the house, for old time's sake."
As Caleb ordered two beers, Mary-Beth leaned into him, her voice a whisper. "Poker King?" Caleb shrugged, a modest smirk on his face. "I might have gotten lucky a few times that's all. It helped fund the stall big time."
Mary-Beth just shook her head in wonder, watching him. With every passing minute, the man she loved revealed another layer, another surprising skill. He was an outlaw, a protector, a businessman, and apparently, a cardsharp. And he was choosing to share it all with her, making her smile deepen.
Mr. Douglas returned with two bottles of beer in his large hands, setting them down on the polished counter with a thud that drew Mary-Beth's eyes to the bottles of glass. The bartender grinned wide, his booming voice carrying easily over the murmur of the saloon.
"There ya go! One for the man of the hour…" He slid the first bottle toward Caleb with a flourish. "…and one for the fair lady he's brought along to grace our humble establishment."
Caleb chuckled, inclining his head in thanks. "Appreciate it, Mr. Douglas."
Mary-Beth, cheeks already pink from the attention, murmured a soft, "Thank you," her voice barely above a whisper as she reached for her drink.
The barkeep's sharp eyes twinkled with curiosity as he leaned an elbow on the counter. "And what's the name of this fair lady, if you don't mind me askin'?"
Mary-Beth smiled shyly but answered with grace. "Mary-Beth," she said. "Mary-Beth Gaskill."
"Well now, a pleasure to meet ya, Miss Gaskill." He tipped his head in a gentlemanly nod before swinging his gaze back to Caleb, his grin turning downright wolfish.
"Now tell me somethin', Caleb. How in the hell does a man like you meet such a fair lady? A proper, lovely lady like Miss Gaskill here to be seen with you? You must've kidnapped her… or spun her a web of sweet lies to trick her into keepin' company with you." He roared with laughter at his own joke.
Caleb had just taken his first sip of beer, and the words made him choke mid swallow. He coughed violently, pounding his chest as Mary-Beth's hand flew to his back, patting gently with wide eyed concern.
"Are you okay, Caleb?" she asked softly, while Mr. Douglas roared with laughter, clearly enjoying himself.
When Caleb finally caught his breath, he waved his hand to show that he was okay, before then he fixed the bartender with a narrowed stare, voice dry as desert dust. "What the hell d'you mean by that, Mr. Douglas? You think I can't win a fine lady like Mary-Beth through honest courtin'?"
Mr. Douglas threw his head back again, letting out a laugh loud enough to draw a few glances from nearby tables. "Now don't go gettin' prickly, Caleb! It ain't that I don't believe you. It's that we all know you've got a silver tongue on you! But you can't blame me for wonderin'."
"You've been in and out of this town for months, never once let a lady hang on your arm. Hell, plenty around here practically threw themselves at you, but you turned every last one down. And now, outta nowhere, you come struttin' in with a woman who looks like she wouldn't give a man like you the time o' day. Can't blame me for thinkin' you sweet talked her."
The barkeep's grin widened as he slapped the counter for emphasis.
Mary-Beth blinked in shock, her mouth parting slightly as the words sank in. Slowly, she turned her head toward Caleb, her blue eyes glittering with a mixture of surprise and something else, mischief.
"I see," she said lightly, drawing out the word as she tilted her head at him. "Is that so, Caleb? Women throwin' themselves at you?" Her smile curved, sweet and sly. "Funny, you never mentioned that before."
Caleb shot Mr. Douglas a glare sharp enough to skin a deer alive. The barkeep froze for half a second as he finally realized his "friendly ribbing" had landed him in hot water, and he lifted both hands in mock surrender, a sheepish grin breaking across his face as he realized his mistake.
"Alright, alright!" Mr. Douglas said quickly, backing away from the firestorm he'd lit. "Didn't mean nothin' by it." He mimed zipping his lips and ducked down the bar to tend to another customer.
Caleb exhaled slowly through his nose before turning to Mary-Beth. "I didn't tell you because it was nothin' Mary-Beth," he said, voice low and earnest. "I turned every one of 'em down because I had you back at camp. Why would I want those women, who only care about money, when I've got someone who loves me for me?"
Mary-Beth stared at him for a beat, then let out an exaggerated snort. "You just say that 'cause I asked," she teased, folding her arms with a mock haughty look. "If I hadn't heard it from Mr. Douglas, you'd never have told me, and you would've kept it your little secret forever."
Caleb blinked, momentarily thrown by her act, and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Mary-Beth, I... look, I'm sorry, alright? I should've told you. Didn't think it mattered that much."
She bit the inside of her cheek to hold back a grin. The poor man actually looked guilty, which made the little game all the sweeter. Before he could flounder any further, she felt his warm hand brush against hers.
"Tell you what," he said, a sly smile tugging at his lips as an idea sparked in his eyes. "Why don't I make it up to you? Let me show you somethin'. Somethin' that'll explain why they call me the Poker King 'round here."
Mary-Beth arched an eyebrow, feigning disinterest even as curiosity bubbled inside her. "Poker King, huh?" she said casually, like the title didn't intrigue her one bit. "Fine. But only 'cause I've got nothin' better to do."
He chuckled under his breath, knowing full well she was hooked. "Then let's go."
With that, Caleb led her across the saloon floor toward a big round table where five men were deep in a game, chips clinking softly as cards slapped against the wood. When they saw Caleb approaching, grins broke out all around.
"Well, look who it is!" one of them drawled. "Thought you'd gone and left us high and dry, Caleb! You in?"
"Count me in," Caleb replied easily, pulling a crisp ten dollar bill from his satchel. He tossed it on the table with a flick of his wrist. "Let me in on this game."
The dealer scooped up the bill, handed Caleb a neat stack of chips, and gestured to an empty chair. Caleb sat with the confidence of a man who knew the room belonged to him, while Mary-Beth snagged a spare chair from a nearby table and settled beside him, her chin propped on one hand, eyes bright with anticipation she tried to hide.
'Let's see what you've got, Mister Poker King,' she thought.
Caleb activated his Poker Skill, which was at level 4, polished to near perfection. The game began, and from the very first hand, he dominated. Smooth, patient, unreadable. His face was a calm sea, while inside his mind calculated odds and patterns with machine like precision.
Hand after hand, he raked in chips. The other players cursed good naturedly, laughter mixing with groans as the outlaw dismantled their stacks like a surgeon. Mary-Beth watched, her breath catching with each bold bluff, each clever raise. She'd seen him play back at Horseshoe Overlook, sure, but nothing like this. This was mastery.
Time blurred into the warm haze of whiskey and soft lamplight. Players dropped one by one, replaced by fresh challengers drawn by the commotion. Still, Caleb never faltered. His pile of chips grew like a mountain.
Eventually, Mary-Beth's stomach rumbled softly, and Caleb, ever attentive, flagged down a server and ordered lamb fry for her, grinning when she tried to insist she wasn't hungry.
By the time he finally pushed back from the table, the game long since broken by his relentless streak, Caleb had cleaned out every soul who dared sit across from him. His winnings totaled a staggering 273 dollars and 36 cents.
The men at the table groaned good naturedly. "Damn it, Caleb! Leave some money for the rest of us!"
Caleb just grinned and turned to Mary-Beth. He gathered the entire stack of bills and pressed it into her hands, ignoring her startled gasp.
"Caleb!" she hissed under her breath, eyes wide as saucers. "I... I can't take this much money! You should use it for your business."
He just shook his head, that wicked glint sparking in his eyes again. "Consider it a gift," he said simply. "Pocket money for my wife while we're in Valentine."
The other players erupted in loud, teasing whoops and hollers. "Look at that! The King providin' for his Queen!"
Mary-Beth's face flushed a bit, but Caleb leaned closer, his voice a low, intimate murmur meant only for her ears, though his wink was for everyone to see as after that he backed away. "After all, what kind of husband doesn't give his wife a little spending money?"
And with that, he winked.
Mary-Beth went scarlet to the tips of her ears, stammering as the men around the table erupted into hoots and laughter. She swatted his arm lightly, but there was no real heat behind it, only a warmth blooming in her chest that words couldn't touch.
The teasing died down as the players drifted back to their drinks, and Caleb leaned in close, his voice low and teasing against the hum of the saloon. "Told you I'd make it up to you, sweetheart."
Mary-Beth shook her head, still flustered but smiling like the sun breaking through clouds. "You're impossible, Caleb," she murmured. "Maybe," he said, grinning. "But I'm yours." They lingered a while longer, enjoying the soft clink of glasses and the easy hum of life in Valentine.
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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: 1,582 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: -