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They made their way back to the porch, but the sound of hoofbeats thundered from the dirt road. Three more riders appeared, Foreman Brothers men returning to their safe house. They spotted the open door and the bodies inside, immediately shouting and drawing their guns. Arthur cursed. "Damn it! Company!"
Caleb holstered his revolver, taking the Carbine Repeater which was leaning onto the wall. "Get Tilly to the wagon, I'll hold 'em off!"
Miss Grimshaw barked, "Arthur, you heard him!" and grabbed Tilly, dragging her toward the wagon. Arthur hesitated for only a moment before following.
Caleb crouched behind the porch railing, taking aim. The first rider which should have been George Foreman in Caleb's mind, came too close, Caleb fired, the shot punching clean through George Foreman head, sending him tumbling from the saddle as he died instantly. The second and third riders veered left, firing blindly as they advanced. Bullets splintered the wood around him.
Arthur, from the wagon, shouted back, "Caleb, let's go!"
"One more!" Caleb shouted, lining up another shot. He fired twice, where the second bullet hit the third rider on the right chest making the third rider fell.
Arthur cracked his revolver from the wagon seat, adding fire to cover Caleb as he sprinted back. Miss Grimshaw helped Tilly climb onto the back, shouting, "Come on!"
Caleb vaulted onto the wagon as Arthur snapped the reins. The horses surged forward, hooves pounding the dirt. Gunfire echoed behind them as the last of the Foreman men tried to pursue, and Caleb returned the shot with the Carbine, hitting the men right on the jaw, and then Caleb threw the Carbine out.
The wagon tore through the backroads of Rhodes, the trees blurring by. Miss Grimshaw kept an arm around Tilly, muttering curses under her breath. Arthur's jaw was set, eyes forward, while Caleb sat half turned, taking out his Navy revolvers in hand, watching the road behind them.
Finally, right tafter that what felt like an eternity of shoot out, the gunfire finally faded.
Miss Grimshaw exhaled sharply. "That's the end of that, I think."
Arthur nodded, where he tension finally leave his body. "Thats good. It's bad if they puruse us to camp if they knew what happened, if there's some of em left out there."
Caleb reloaded his revolvers on the mean time, each metallic click sharp in the cool air. "Let 'em. If they try anything again, they'll get the same treatment."
Tilly looked between them, eyes wet but grateful. "Thank you… I don't know what would've happened if you hadn't come."
Arthur gave her a reassuring smile. "Ain't no 'if,' Tilly. You're one of us. We always look after our own."
Caleb nodded in agreement. "That's right. You're safe now. Let's get you home."
The wagon rolled on toward Shady Belle as dawn began to break on the horizon. The sky was painted with streaks of gold and violet, the first light of morning touching the marshes. The tension slowly ebbed away, replaced by quiet relief.
Miss Grimshaw leaned back slightly, her voice softer than usual. "You did good today, both of you."
Arthur smirked. "Don't sound so shocked, Miss Grimshaw."
Caleb chuckled quietly. "Yeah, she cared more than just our welfare but our opinion, as well."
She shot them both a glare, though her lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile. "Don't push your luck, boys."
They all laughed, the sound carried on the wind as the wagon rolled toward Shady Belle, another battle won, another life saved.
The road home stretched long and quiet after the battle, the adrenaline slowly wearing off. The only sounds that filled the air were the steady creak of the wagon wheels, the rhythmic clop of hooves against the packed dirt, and the distant cries of waking birds in the swamp. The morning mist still clung to the trees, giving the world a grayish hue.
Tilly sat hunched in the back of the wagon, her face pale but determined. Miss Grimshaw stayed beside her, one hand steadying the young woman as she hissed in pain whenever the wagon jolted over a bump.
"For God's sake, Arthur, slow down!" Miss Grimshaw barked, her concern for Tilly overriding her usual stoicism. "The danger's passed! We don't need to shake her bones loose before we even get back!"
Arthur, his shoulders still tense, called back over the noise, "I'm goin' as slow as I can if we want to get back before high sun! Ain't my fault the roads down here are fit for goats, not wagons! Ain't my fault the road's got more holes than Micah's excuses."
Caleb, sitting near the back, chuckled under his breath. "He's right about that, Miss Grimshaw. This ain't exactly Saint Denis cobblestone."
Miss Grimshaw shot him a sharp glare, but there was no malice in it. "Hmph. You two are impossible. If either of you had to tend a wounded girl for a day, you'd be singin' a different tune."
Arthur let out a grunt of amusement, and Caleb could only smirk, glancing back toward Tilly, who gave him a small, weary smile.
The rest of the ride passed in uneasy calm. The marsh began to thin, and soon the faint outline of Shady Belle appeared through the fog, the gang's camp nestled among the mossy ruins. The familiar sight eased the tension in Caleb's chest.
As they rolled closer, Charles and Javier, standing guard near the gate, raised their rifles in brief alarm before recognizing them. Charles called out, "Arthur! Caleb! You're back!"
Javier's grin spread wide as he stepped forward. "And you brought Tilly too! Dios mío, she looks alive! You gave us a scare, chica."
Caleb smiled and leaned back slightly on the wagon rail. "You can ask her yourself. She's back there, with Miss Grimshaw patchin' her up."
Tilly's voice, a little shaky but full of life, rose from behind him. "I'm fine, Javier! Just a few scratches, is all!"
Charles exhaled deeply, his shoulders relaxing. "Glad to hear it. We were ready to ride out ourselves if you didn't show by noon."
Javier let out a low chuckle, a smile gracing his features. "Todavía tiene fuego, esa chica," he murmured in Spanish. She's still got fire, that girl.
Arthur drove the wagon forward a bit more, the horses snorting as they slowed near Strauss's wagon. Dust billowed lightly around them as Arthur finally pulled the reins and set the brake.
"Alright," he said, hopping down from the seat, "home sweet home."
Caleb followed, landing softly on the dirt as Miss Grimshaw helped Tilly down. Mary-Beth and Karen hurried over the moment they saw her, their expressions turning from worry to relief.
"Tilly!" Mary-Beth called, reaching out to steady her. "Oh thank heavens you're back!"
Karen added, "You had us scared half to death, girl. Come on, let's get you washed up."
Tilly managed a small smile despite her fatigue. "I'm okay, really. Just sore."She looked between them and then turned to Arthur and Caleb. "Thank you. Both of you. I… I don't know what I'd have done…"
Arthur gave her a reassuring nod, his voice low and gentle. "No need to thank us. We just did what we were supposed to do. You're family."
Caleb smiled warmly. "You get some rest, Tilly. Let the others fuss over you a bit, you earned it."
"Let's get you cleaned up and resting," Miss Grimshaw said, her tone firm but not unkind. Miss Grimshaw guided her along with Mary-Beth and Karen toward one of the side rooms in the old mansion, muttering orders about clean rags and boiled water.
Arthur and Caleb stood shoulder to shoulder, watching them go. The morning was calm now, the air thick with the scent of damp moss and wood smoke. Arthur fished out his pack of cigarettes, lighting one with a flick of his match. He took a long drag before offering it to Caleb.
"Smoke?"
Caleb shook his head. "Nah, I'm good. You know me, I like my lungs clean for when the bullets start flyin'."
Arthur chuckled. "Fair enough." He took another drag, exhaling a thin stream of smoke into the air. The calm after chaos had a strange kind of peace to it.
But that peace didn't last long.
"You boys did good. Real good," came a familiar voice, smooth yet cold, cutting through the still morning air. "Look at this. My boys, back from a heroic rescue."
Both men turned to see Dutch van der Linde approaching with Hosea at his side. Dutch's smile was wide, but there was something brittle in it, something forced. Hosea followed a few steps behind, his usual calm expression now shadowed with concern.
"Saving that girl, bringing her back safe with dear Miss Grimshaw," Dutch continued, beaming. "That is what this family is all about!"
Arthur exhaled smoke through his nose. "We just did what needed doin', Dutch. Ain't no need for speeches or praise."
Dutch laughed softly and clapped a heavy hand on Arthur's shoulder. "And that, my boy, is why I adore you. You do it for the family. For the cause. Not for the glory."
Then his tone shifted, and his gaze slid sideways, right toward Caleb. His eyes lost their warmth, hardening into something sharper, colder. "Unlike certain others, perhaps."
The shift was so abrupt and pointed that it took Caleb a moment to process it. The shift in Dutch's tone was abrupt, jarring, another crack in the man's once charming facade. The air around them seemed to grow cold. He hadn't expected Dutch's simmering resentment to boil over so publicly, so plainly. Before Caleb could form a response, Arthur's voice cut in.
"Dutch," Arthur said slowly, his tone carrying warning. "Caleb ain't like that. He's been riskin' his neck same as the rest of us. He's done more for this gang in a few months than some have in years."
The air went still. Hosea subtly shifted, his brow furrowed. Even the camp around them seemed to quiet, conversations dimming as folks turned to look.
The change in the atmosphere was instantaneous and profound. It was as if a thundercloud had suddenly blotted out the sun. Dutch's head swiveled slowly back to Arthur, his smile frozen into a grimace. "Careful, son. Say that again."
Arthur didn't flinch. "You heard me." His voice was steady as a gun barrel. "He's been helpin' this family. He's done everything you asked. Hell, you were the one who vouched for him back in Valentine. You were the one who said he was the kind of man we needed."
Dutch's jaw twitched, his composure slipping. His voice rose a notch, deep and heavy. "And now you're standin' here questionin' me? Defendin' him over your own family? After all we've been through?"
Arthur met his gaze, unyielding. "Ain't about takin' sides, Dutch. It's about seein' things for what they are. You're changin', and not for the better. You don't listen to Hosea anymore. You don't listen to me. And now you're starin' daggers at a man who's done nothin' but help us before he even part of our family."
The tension thickened like molasses.
Caleb could feel every eye in camp on them, Sean had stopped playing cards, Charles and Javier were watching from the edge of camp, and even Sadie stood still with her arms crossed, eyes narrowing.
Dutch's voice dropped low, dangerous. "You're treadin' on thin ice, Arthur. You too, Caleb. I see how you whisper behind my back. How you question my lead."
Caleb raised his hands slightly, his tone calm but firm. "Dutch, I ain't whisperin' about nothin'. You know I respect you. But things are changin' and it ain't for the better. Folks are worried. Maybe you should—"
"Maybe I should what?" Dutch snapped, stepping closer. His eyes burned, the calm mask gone. "Abandon my plan? Give up everything we've built because some of you lost your faith?"
Hosea's voice finally broke in, quiet but stern. "Dutch, that's enough."
But Dutch ignored him. "You think I don't see what's happenin' here? You think I don't notice the looks, the doubts, the little talks at night?" He pointed toward Caleb, his hand trembling with anger. "You, ever since you came along, many of them have been testin' me. You think I don't see it?"
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 7/10
- Luck: 8/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 4)
- Rifle (Lvl 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 4)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 3)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 3)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 2)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 4)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
Money: 3,655 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 104,669 dollars and 72 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 64 gold bars, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 Colm's Schofields, land deed (Parcel), 1 Mauser, 1 Semi Auto Pistol, 1 Lancaster Repeater, 1 Old Wood Jewelry Box, 1 F.F Mausoleum small brass key, & 1 Ruby
Bank: -