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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.
So the three of them stood together, side by side, watching the camp slowly lift itself from despair. Morale was rising with every crate opened, every tin passed around. Children's laughter returned as Jack squealed with joy over a small storybook Mary-Beth pressed into his hands. "Thank you, Miss Mary-Beth!" he shouted, clutching it to his chest. She brushed the top of his head affectionately. "You're welcome, Jack. You read every page, now."
Even Bill, wounded and surly, cracked a grin when he saw the bottles of bourbon and beer being hauled out. "Well, hello there," he barked, wincing as his bandaged shoulder throbbed. "Maybe the world ain't so bad after all."
Miss Grimshaw approached Mary-Beth, her voice sharp but her eyes softer than usual. The two women spoke in low tones, Mary-Beth answering with calm, reassuring words that drew a rare nod from Miss Grimshaw. For a fleeting moment, the camp looked like itself again, as if the heavy shadow that had smothered it might lift.
But that peace shattered the moment Dutch Van der Linde stepped out of his tent.
Caleb spotted him first, striding into the light like a storm wrapped in a man's skin. Dutch's face was pale, lined deeper than usual, his eyes burning with something unsettled. And as he looked out at the scene before him, the happy chatter, the unfamiliar wagon, and Caleb standing tall at its side, his expression twisted, not into relief, but into something darker.
The camp quieted instantly, laughter dying mid-breath, smiles vanishing as if sucked away by a sudden wind. Every eye turned toward the leader. The weight of his presence fell over them, heavy and suffocating.
"What is happening here?" Dutch's voice rang sharp, commanding. He swept his arm toward the wagon, toward the sacks and crates now spread across camp. "Who brought this? Who took it upon themselves to bring supplies back to this camp, when I have made it clear, perfectly clear, that no one is to set foot outside this camp without my say so? Especially not into Rhodes."
No one answered. Fear pinned their tongues, the threat of his fury choking them silent.
Caleb saw it. Saw the way Dutch's glare swept the camp like a blade, looking for someone to cut down. Saw the way people lowered their gazes, unwilling to be the target. He knew if he let the silence stretch, Dutch would twist it, turn it against them all.
So he stepped forward.
"It was me, Dutch," Caleb said firmly. "Me and Mary-Beth. We brought the supplies from Valentine."
Dutch's head snapped toward him, his jaw tightening. Caleb continued, his tone steady but careful. "We managed a few robberies, made some money out of it. With the gang's cut, we bought supplies instead of dropping cash in the lockbox. Thought it'd serve us back at he camp better this way."
For a heartbeat, Dutch's face went ashen, the muscle in his cheek twitching. He didn't address Caleb directly. Instead, he turned his gaze toward Mary-Beth, and in an instant his whole demeanor shifted.
His features softened, a gentle smile curving his lips as though the storm had simply passed. "Mary-Beth," he said warmly, ignoring Caleb entirely. "How are you, my dear? Has this man been keeping you safe out there in that dangerous world full of conman and criminals?" He gestured toward Caleb dismissively. "And why didn't you come to me first, sweetheart? Why not ask me for permission, if you wanted to go? You know I'd have seen to it that you were taken care of."
Mary-Beth froze, caught between fear and indignation. But she lifted her chin, her voice clear. "I'm well, Dutch. Caleb has been keeping me safe every step of the way while we are out there. And I didn't want to trouble you. That's why I asked Hosea and Miss Grimshaw permission instead. They knew where we were going, and they gave me their blessing to follow Caleb."
Dutch's smile faltered for the briefest moment, just a hairline crack. Caleb caught it. Hosea caught it. Even Arthur caught it. But Dutch smoothed it away quickly, as though it had never been there, turning back to the crowd with his arms spreading wide.
"Well then," he said, voice booming now, "if Mary-Beth is safe, and if the camp is fed… perhaps there's no harm done after all."
The tension in the air didn't vanish, but it loosened slightly. Some of the gang dared to smile again, reassured by Mary-Beth's presence and Dutch's words. Yet Caleb knew better. Dutch had just revealed more than he intended, that he wasn't angry about the supplies themselves, but about the challenge to his authority.
As Caleb thought so and some of the gang had shown their smile thinking that the situation had lightened up, Dutch suddenly turned around and looked at Caleb.
"But…"
Just that single word cut through the camp like the crack of a rifle. The tension snapped back high, even sharper than before, like every breath in the clearing was being sucked into a black hole. Every pair of eyes, from Pearson standing with his ladle frozen mid air to Jack clutching his new storybook, shifted toward Dutch and Caleb.
Dutch's eyes, now burning with a cold fire, locked onto Caleb. "But," he repeated, his voice dropping to a dangerous, measured tone, "while there may be no harm done in terms of supplies, a challenge has most certainly been issued. A challenge to my authority. To my standing as the leader of this family." He swept his gaze across the terrified faces of the gang. "I am the one who plans. I am the one who provides. I am the one who protects. That is the order of things."
A stunned silence fell. Never before had Dutch spoken so openly about his own authority, his need for recognition. The words sounded foreign, unsettling. For years he had framed himself as the father figure, the dreamer, the man who wanted freedom for all of them. Now he was talking about being challenged, about protecting his authority.
A stunned silence followed. Dutch had never been so blatant, so openly authoritarian. From the sidelines, Uncle, leaning against a wagon wheel beside John, let out a low, sarcastic whisper. "I told you so. The best of us lost his damn mind. Wants to be a king, and us his knights in shining armor. Obey and don't question, that's what he wants."
John's jaw tightened. "Shut your mouth, Uncle," he muttered sharply, not wanting to add more sparks to the fire, as his eyes were wide with alarm, fixed on the confrontation.
Meanwhile, Caleb felt the shift. He knew he couldn't afford to look defiant, not here, not with Dutch staring him down. But neither could he afford to cower. If he backed down completely, Dutch would use that as proof of guilt. If he was too bold, Dutch would use it as evidence of betrayal.
He had to walk the narrowest of tightropes. This was the moment. He couldn't be defiant, but he could be unshakeably reasonable. He had to be the voice of logic against Dutch's rising paranoia.
"What do you mean, Dutch?" Caleb asked, his voice even and respectful. He met Dutch's gaze without flinching. "I don't understand the challenge you're talking about."
The question was deliberate, meant to force Dutch to explain himself in front of everyone, without Caleb outright denying him.
Dutch's eyes narrowed. He could feel the defiance there, even wrapped in calm words, and it made his blood boil hotter. For a fleeting moment, he thought this was the perfect chance to expose Caleb, to finally lay bare the suspicion festering inside him, and perhaps even kick the boy out.
A chuckle escaped his lips, low and humorless, one that made Mary-Beth stiffen beside Caleb.
"Why do I say that?" Dutch echoed mockingly, stepping forward, his voice rising with every word. "Why do you even ask me why? Why don't you ask yourself, son? Why do you do such things? Why do you try to undermine me, even after I extended my hand to you, welcomed you into this family? When you were out here alone, without a family of your own, no one to keep your back, I brought you in. And this—" his voice broke into a shout, startling the camp—"this is how you repay my kindness? By undermining my authority as the leader of this family? By trying to steal my family from me?"
The final words rang across the clearing like a bell tolling doom. The gang flinched as one, unused to hearing Dutch's temper explode so rawly in front of them.
The accusation was monstrous, a gross distortion of Caleb's every action. But He was ready. Already bracing for it, silently activated his Acting and Persuasion skills. He kept his voice respectful, careful, not rising to Dutch's volume but carrying a conviction that demanded to be heard. Also he looked wounded, confused, and deeply sincere.
"Dutch," Caleb said, his voice laden with earnest respect. "I have never, not once, tried to undermine you. The thought repulses me. How could I ever repay your kindness, taking me in when I had nothing, with such betrayal?"
He paused, letting the sincerity of his words sink in. "I have been trying to repay you the only way I know how, by working tirelessly for this family. I've risked my life on scores to bring in as much money as I could. I've used every bit of knowledge I have to make sure every job I'm on, every job I help plan, is done safely and smartly, leaving no trail for the Pinkertons or Cornwall to follow. Everything I have done, I have done for this family."
His words carried across the camp, calm but weighted. Everyone listened. They couldn't deny the truth in them. Caleb had been working tirelessly since joining. He'd pulled his weight, more than most. He'd contributed money, planned smart, cared for others. He had made himself indispensable in record time.
Silently, inwardly, the gang agreed with him. Even Bill, who often found Caleb insufferable, knew the boy had done more than most to keep their pockets lined and their necks free of a noose.
But no one dared say it out loud. Not yet.
Except for one.
It was Hosea who finally broke the silence, stepping forward to stand beside Caleb. His voice was weary but firm. "Dutch, the boy is right. Why are you doing this? Pressuring him with accusations that simply aren't true? Look at what he's brought us! Look at the faces around you! He has done nothing but help since he arrived."
The intervention from his oldest friend was the final straw. Dutch's face turned a shade grimmer, his composure cracking. "Why are you protecting him, old friend?" he hissed, the words barely controlled. "Can you not see? Can none of you see what he's doing? He ingratiates himself, he provides, he makes you all dependent! He is trying to replace me!"
Hosea shook his head, unimpressed by Dutch's dramatics. "No one's trying to replace you, Dutch. Caleb isn't undermining you. He's trying to do his best, same as Arthur, same as me, same as all of us."
His voice rose slightly, a rare edge of steel entering it. "And if all of this boils down to Caleb and Mary-Beth asking me and Susan for permission instead of you, then you're being too sensitive. Mary-Beth said herself she didn't ask you because you were busy and she didn't want to disturb you. And now, look around, Dutch." Hosea spread his arm toward the camp, at the supplies, the food, the smiles that had returned. "They came back with what we needed most. For all of us."
...
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: -