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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."
Hosea's words laid bare the petty core of Dutch's rage. It wasn't about the rules, it was about the perceived slight. The camp watched, holding its breath, as the two pillars of the gang faced off
Dutch's face hardened, his jaw clenching. The old storm in him raged behind his eyes. For the second time in front of the camp, the rift between him and Hosea was laid bare for all to see.
Arthur's stomach twisted as he watched. He had seen Dutch get angry and even lashes out at Hosea, but this one? Dutch turning his wrath not only on Caleb, but onto Hosea as well? That was new. Dangerous.
Mary-Beth's fingers curled into Caleb's sleeve, a silent anchor. She didn't speak, she knew if she did, Dutch might twist it against Caleb further. But her eyes, sharp and steady, told Caleb that she trusted him to navigate this storm.
Around them, the gang held its collective breath. Javier and Lenny stood rigid, eyes darting between Dutch and Caleb. Pearson's knuckles were white on his ladle. John's arms were crossed, unreadable. Uncle muttered something under his breath but no one dared respond. The others just stood there watching.
The moment hung in the air, thick and heavy, ready to tip into disaster or retreat.
Dutch paranoia began to feel it, the isolation. His eyes darted from Hosea's disappointed face to Caleb's calm one, to the fearful yet sympathetic faces of the gang. He saw no allies, only questioning eyes. His grand plan had failed, and now this upstart had returned a hero, with his oldest friend defending him.
The need to reassert control was overwhelming. He couldn't back down.
"Busy?" Dutch roared, his voice losing all restraint. "I am busy planning our future! Our freedom! While he were off playing God knows what in Valentine, I was fighting for our lives! And you return with… with trinkets and blankets and dare to question my leadership?" He pointed a shaking finger at Caleb. "Your usefulness does not grant you immunity! There is an order here! My order!"
Dutch's chest rose and fell as though he had just finished a sermon. He them turned to look at Hosea for a long moment, betrayal flashing in his gaze. Then, ever the performer, he calamed himself and smoothed his voice, though the edge remained sharp.
"My old friend," Dutch said slowly, "you think I'm blind? You think I don't see? A family only stays together when there's one voice leading it. If everyone runs off making their own plans, their own little… ventures, then what are we? Chaos. And chaos will destroy us all."
Hosea met his stare without flinching. "Or maybe what will destroy us is pride. Refusing help when it's right in front of you."
A murmur rippled through the camp.
Caleb stepped in before the wound deepened further. "Dutch," he said softly, "no one's trying to take your voice. I only acted because I thought it was best for the camp. And look, it helped. Everyone's fed. Spirits are lifted. That's all I wanted. To do my part."
For a heartbeat, Dutch just stared at him. Then, finally, he exhaled heavily through his nose, as though reining himself in. His eyes flicked to Mary-Beth, then to the smiling faces around camp.
"…Perhaps," he said slowly, "perhaps I was too harsh." His words were for the camp, not for Caleb. A show of magnanimity, to keep his image intact. "But don't mistake me. This family only survives if we trust each other. And that means trusting me to lead. No more… surprises."
Some nodded, relieved at his change of tone. But others exchanged wary glances. The damage was done. They'd seen the crack in Dutch's mask, the fury, the paranoia. And they'd heard Hosea's calm defiance, standing between Dutch and Caleb like a shield.
Caleb exhaled slowly, forcing his own mask of calm to remain in place. Inside, though, his mind raced. Dutch had just revealed more than he meant to, and the gang had seen it. The seed of doubt had been planted deeper.
Laughter didn't return, but tension eased slightly. People began drifting back to their tasks, the wagon being unloaded once more.
But Caleb knew. Hosea knew. Arthur knew. Dutch's words were not forgiveness. They were warning.
Mary-Beth leaned in, whispering just for Caleb's ear. "He's watching you closer now."
Caleb's jaw tightened. "I know," he murmured back.
And as the supplies were carried into camp, the fragile sense of peace restored, Caleb felt the weight of Dutch's eyes still burning into his back.
Dutch lingered there for a moment longer, his shadow stretching across the surrounding area. His eyes swept over the camp one final time, before then landing briefly on Caleb.
The look was not one of forgiveness but of warning, a reminder that his authority was absolute, or at least he wanted it to be. Then, with the rigid dignity of a king retreating to his keep, Dutch turned and walked slowly back to his tent. The flap fell shut behind him.
Only then did the tension truly ease. It was like a great invisible weight had been lifted from every chest in camp. Lenny exhaled hard, Javier muttered a curse under his breath, and Pearson clanged his ladle against the pot just to have something to do with his hands.
Conversations picked up again, cautious at first, then growing more natural. Jack laughed once more as he happily read his book with Abagail even though she can't read, and much quieter than before, as if afraid the noise might summon Dutch back out.
At last, when the wagons were unloaded and the supplies stacked neat, Caleb called over to Kieran. He looked up from where he'd been shifting a sack of flour, face a little pale from watching the confrontation earlier.
"Kieran," Caleb said, his voice gentler now, pulling the young man's attention. "I need you to take care of the wagon and the two horses for me," Caleb said, his tone firm but kind. "Make sure they're cleaned and fed proper."
He dug into his satchel, pulling out a crisp bill and handing it over. "Here. 15 dollars. For your trouble. Buy yourself some cigarettes, cigars, or a few drinks with it."
Kieran's eyes widened, staring at the money like Caleb had just handed him a small fortune. He took it slowly, smiling with disbelief. "I… thank you. Really. I'd do it for free, you know that. But since you're givin' me this, I ain't fool enough to turn it down."
"I know," Caleb said with a small smile. "But I want to. Take it. You've earned it."
Kieran's face softened into something like gratitude, mixed with disbelief. He pocketed the money, then shook his head, chuckling. "Alright then. Thank you. Really. I'll take good care of 'em, don't you worry." He climbed onto the wagon seat, flicked the reins, and guided the horses toward the far side of camp where he could tend to them properly.
As the wagon rolled away, Caleb felt a firm pat on his shoulder. He turned to find Hosea standing there, his expression tired but approving.
"You handled yourself well," Hosea said quietly. "Kept your head when Dutch tried to tear you down. Calm as a man can be. That takes guts."
Caleb gave a small shrug, though the tension in his body hadn't fully left. "I just said what was on my mind. I didn't think Dutch would… take it that way. After everything I've been doing to contribute, I didn't expect him to accuse me of undermining him. I've been trying to repay his kindness for taking me in. Repay everyone's trust."
Arthur, who had been listening to the conversations and seeing the surrounding, joined the conversation. His voice was quiet but steady. "You don't need to worry about that. Everyone sees the effort you've been puttin' in. Me, Hosea, hell, most of the camp does. You've more than proved yourself."
He glanced toward Dutch's tent, lips pressing into a thin line. "Dutch… he's just in a bad way. His plan blew up in his face. Wasted all that dynamite, came back with nothin' but more heat on us. Doesn't take kindly to bein' told off, especially when we're already runnin' short on luck. You just happened to be the one standin' in front of him when it boiled over."
Caleb followed Arthur's gaze toward the tent. "Yeah, I figured as much. That's why I think, right now, our focus should be on keeping everyone safe. Since I wasn't part of that plan, I could go out, maybe check it with Trelawny or anyone else who wasn't involved. Get a sense of how things are developing in Rhodes."
Arthur's eyes snapped back to him, hard. "Don't. Not without Dutch's say so. You go wanderin' off, even with good intentions, he'll put you right back in his sights. You saw how he was just now."
Hosea nodded in agreement. "Arthur's right. Best to stay here a few days, son. Stay close to Mary-Beth. Let Dutch cool down. When the dust settles, then maybe you can ride out and get a look at Rhodes. For now, keep your head low."
Caleb's jaw tightened, but he inclined his head. "I hear you. It's just… the Pinkertons. And Cornwall's men. You know they'll sniff around Lemoyne after this mess. Outlaws digging for gold using dynamites between two feuding families? That's blood in the water for them. I'm just worried Dutch's reckless plan has already painted a bigger target on all of us. After Blackwater. After Valentine. Now this." He stopped himself, realizing his words might cut too close. "Sorry. I didn't mean to—"
"We know," Hosea said, cutting him off gently. He exhaled long and slow. "You're not wrong. But listen to us for now, son. For the gang's sake. For Mary-Beth's sake."
Arthur added, softer, "Sometimes survivin' means sittin' still. Also we need you around, not buried in some ditch."
Reluctantly, Caleb nodded. "Alright. I'll stay put. For now."
The two older men gave him small, approving nods before turning toward Dutch's tent together. Hosea's shoulders were heavy, Arthur's steps slower than usual. Caleb watched them go, understanding the weight they carried, trying to keep Dutch together when he was already fraying.
He used the moment of solitude to pull up his System interface, eyes flicking across the faint screen only he could see. A notification pulsed there:
Acting Skill: Level 3 → Level 4
Persuasion Skill: Level 3 → Level 4
Caleb smiled faintly. "Makes sense," he muttered under his breath. He knew why he'd leveled. Facing Dutch had been a test of both masks and words. He had stood tall, acted calm, persuasive, even while subtly steering the gang away from Dutch's tightening grip. He might've fooled most of them, but Dutch hadn't bought it for a second.
And the timeline… maybe, just maybe, he was nudging it away from the cliff he knew it was heading toward. "Still," Caleb thought, closing the interface, "it worked well enough. For now."
Shaking the thought, Caleb made his way toward the left outskirts of camp. There, beneath the wide arms of a great tree, John and Uncle stood by the scout fire, a bottle of bourbon being passed between them. Their laughter was muted, tinged with bitterness.
...
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) → (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 2) → (Lvl 3)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,814 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: -