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Caleb smiled faintly at that, but the smile didn't reach his eyes. The fire crackled again, sparks floating upward into the deepening dusk. For a few moments none of them spoke. The weight of what had happened, Dutch's explosion, Arthur defending Caleb, Bill's reaction, hung thick in the air like smoke that refused to clear.
As Arthur and the others fell into a quieter rhythm of conversation, Caleb stared into the flames, letting his thoughts wander back over the events of the past few hours.
Saving Tilly with Arthur and Miss Grimshaw. Dutch blowing up afterward. Arthur stepping in, openly, for the first time. Bill's confusion. Uncle's expected support.
Caleb could feel the shift happening, direct and also but powerful. His and Arthur's argument with Dutch who's paranoia affecting him, was starting to infect the entire camp. Loyalties were beginning to wobble. Lines were being drawn, even if no one meant for them to be.
Dutch's mistrust had flared since again and it was much earlier than he expected. And Arthur… Arthur was already drifting away from blind loyalty.
That meant everything was in motion.
Caleb clenched the warm coffee cup in his hands.
He had to get ahead of this. Before Dutch's paranoia swallowed them whole.
Arthur lowered himself beside him again, lightly bumping Caleb's shoulder.
"You all right?" Arthur asked quietly.
Caleb exhaled a long breath. "Yeah. Just thinkin'."
"That's dangerous," Arthur teased with a smirk. "Ask Uncle. He'll tell ya."
Uncle raised his bottle. "Thinking's how you end up workin', and workin's how you end up miserable. I avoid both."
Arthur shook his head, amused. "Don't listen to him."
"I don't," Caleb said. "But I appreciate the advice anyway."
Arthur hummed. "Look… Dutch shouldn't've said what he said. That wasn't right. I'm sorry you had to be the one he lashed out at."
Caleb shrugged. "Someone had to be. Better me than one of the girls. Or John. Or Sean. Or anyone else really."
Arthur took another sip, staring into the fire. "Still ain't right."
Pearson spoke up, stirring the bottle of rum in his hand. "Like Uncle said, you did good today, Caleb. More than most would've done. We all saw that."
Uncle nodded, surprisingly earnest. "Dutch'll cool off. That temper's been boilin' too close to the surface lately."
Arthur's gaze flicked toward Dutch's tent, where the flap moved faintly with the night breeze.
"I don't know," Arthur murmured. "I don't know if coolin' off is somethin' Dutch does anymore."
The conversation quieted as Bill returned from the darkness, though his shoulders were stiff and his face troubled. He didn't sit. Didn't speak. Just hovered behind Caleb and Arthur, staring into the flames.
Arthur looked up. "Bill. Come sit, would ya?"
Bill didn't answer.
Caleb turned slightly. "Bill, you all right?"
Bill swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering with conflict. "I just… don't like it. Any of it."
Arthur nodded. "I know."
"He's our leader," Bill said, his voice cracking. "He's Dutch. He's kept us alive. He's… he's Dutch, Arthur."
"I know," Arthur repeated gently.
"Then why... why are you sayin' he's wrong?"
Arthur sighed. "Because I care about him, Bill. Same as you. Same as Caleb. Same as all of us. But things ain't the same as they used to be. You feel it. I feel it. Caleb feels it. Dutch… he's driftin'. And if we don't help guide him back, really guide him, he's gonna take us down a bad road."
Bill clenched his jaw. "I just… don't wanna lose him."
Caleb spoke softly. "None of us do."
Bill hesitated… then, slowly, reluctantly, sat down beside Pearson.
It was a small thing.
But important.
A sign that maybe, just maybe, Bill wasn't fully gone.
Not yet.
As the campfire burned lower, the gang members drifted in and out of the conversation. Miss Grimshaw barked toward Sean who was teasing the girls to leave them alone. John carries Jack back to the mansion alongside Abigail. Javier and Charles returned from patrol, exchanging quiet nods with Caleb as they passed.
Over the next hour, the group around the fire thinned, leaving only the night insects and the whisper of the wind.
Arthur stood first. "I'm headin' to bed. Caleb, you need anything, you come get me. Don't matter how late."
Caleb nodded. "Thanks, Arthur."
Arthur gave a final nod and disappeared into the plantation mansion.
Uncle finished his bourbon, grunted, and stumbled toward his cot.
Pearson returned to cleaning dishes, muttering about stress and stew.
Sadie smirked at Caleb before standing. "Get some rest, Caleb. Tomorrow's another mess waitin' to happen."
And then she, too, vanished into the night.
Caleb remained alone by the embers, hands clasped loosely, staring at the dying fire.
Dutch's words still hung in his mind.
Driftwood.
Testing him.
Ghosts where there ain't none.
Part of him had expected this moment. Another very small part of him never wanted it.
He couldn't allow the Van der Linde gang to spiral so quickly. Not yet. Too many people still depended on this fragile sense of family.
Caleb took a deep breath.
He would have to step carefully. Guide Arthur without openly challenging Dutch like what happened before. Keep the likes of Bill, Javier, and some in the camp steady. Support Sadie. Stay close to Arthur, John, and Charles. And remain useful enough that Dutch couldn't push him out, yet not so capable that Dutch would do anything to get him out. He had to walk a tightrope.
Caleb stayed by the fire for a while longer, letting the final amber glow fade into the dark ash. He waited until the warmth disappeared from the pit and the tension from his shoulders eased, even slightly, before finally standing.
The night bugs hummed all around him, the gentle chorus of crickets and frogs echoing through the Louisiana swamps. A soft, humid breeze passed over Shady Belle, brushing through the moss draped trees like a whisper of things to come.
He took a slow breath, letting his eyes linger on the silhouette of Dutch's tent in the distance. No lantern light flickered from within. Either Dutch had gone to bed… or he was sitting there, brooding in that growing paranoia, stewing in thoughts only he understood anymore.
Caleb shook his head and turned away. There was nothing more he could do tonight.
He made his way into the mansion, up the creaking stairs, and into his room on the second floor. He removed his holsters, set them neatly beside the bed, pulled off his boots, and finally allowed himself to sink into the rough mattress.
Exhaustion hit him like a hammer. The weight of the day, saving Tilly, the confrontation with Dutch, Arthur's defense, the subtle shifts among the boys, pressed on him from all sides.
He closed his eyes.
'It's all moving faster now,' he thought.
He didn't even remember falling asleep.
The next day, in the morning.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
A small, enthusiastic fist hammered on the door.
"Caleb! Caleb! Are you awake?"
The chirping voice was unmistakable. Caleb stirred, blinking awake as the early morning sun spilled in through the cracked window. He groaned softly and sat up, rubbing a hand across his face.
"One second, bud…" he murmured.
He quickly made himself presentable, tugging on a clean shirt and brushing the sleep from his hair before he opened the door.
Jack stood there, bright eyed, grinning ear to ear, with Cain wagging his entire body behind him. The big dog immediately barked happily, tail thumping against the wall like a drum.
"Good mornin', Caleb!" Jack beamed.
Caleb couldn't help but smile back. "Mornin', Jack. Cain."
Cain barked again, as if acknowledging his name with pride.
Caleb crouched to scratch him behind the ears. "What're you two doin' up so early? Sun ain't even warmed the air yet."
Jack shuffled excitedly, nearly bouncing where he stood. "I wanna go out huntin'! Pa said he can't take me today 'cause he's gotta help Ma with somethin', so he said maybe you would! He said I should ask!"
His eyes sparkled like someone had hung little lanterns inside them.
Caleb stared at him for a beat, the weight of yesterday lingering heavy in his mind. He had been planning on giving Dutch plenty of space today, maybe take a walk, maybe help Pearson, maybe hide somewhere quiet so Dutch couldn't start another fight.
But taking Jack out…
That wasn't a burden.
That was a chance.
A chance to clear his head. A chance to avoid Dutch. A chance to spend time with someone innocent, untouched by all the madness building in the gang.
He chuckled softly and sighed. "Well… I don't see why not, bud."
Jack gasped, hands flying up in excitement. "Really!? Really!? Cain can come too, right!?"
Cain barked as if demanding an immediate answer.
Caleb nodded. "As long as Cain can keep up with us while we're on Morgan, sure."
"YAY!" Jack shouted, so loud the old mansion walls practically vibrated. "I'm gonna go tell Ma and Pa! C'mon, Cain!"
The dog barked and followed in a happy, eager trot as Jack bolted down the hallway.
Caleb smiled at the sight before exhaling again, closing the door to finish getting ready.
He changed out of his sleeping clothes and into his Valentine outfit, the buttoned shirt, the leather vest, the rugged trousers, boots, and the hat Arthur once recommended him. He strapped on his holsters, made sure the revolvers were properly loaded, then slipped out of the room.
He made his way through the mansion, descending the stairs, and stepped out onto the porch.
The morning light was soft and gold, casting long shadows across the swamp. Mist curled along the ground as if the world hadn't fully woken yet.
Kieran was nearby, tending to the horses with gentle hands. His movements were slow, careful, almost grateful.
Seeing him there made Caleb pause.
Kieran shouldn't have been here, he should have been gone. In the real timeline, this was around when Kieran would've been taken by the O'Driscolls and then send back dead with his eyes gouged and his head beheaded. But with Colm dead and the O'Driscolls scattered to the winds, Kieran was safe.
Safer than he ever was in the original story.
Caleb felt a small but proud warmth in his chest.
Good. Another change for the better.
Before he could dwell further, a bowl suddenly appeared in front of his face.
Caleb blinked and looked to see Mary-Beth holding it with a soft smile.
"Stew for breakfast?" he asked, smiling back.
"It's the best Pearson could do this early," she teased gently. "Thought you'd want some before you head out."
He took the bowl gratefully. "Thanks, Mary-Beth."
They moved to sit together on the porch steps, eating side by side as the camp slowly roused behind them.
Mary-Beth watched him for a moment before speaking. "How are you holding up? After… everything yesterday."
Caleb swallowed a mouthful of stew before answering. "I'm fine. Really. You don't gotta apologize for not being there, I know you were helpin' Tilly. And she needed it way more than I did."
Mary-Beth lowered her gaze slightly. "Still… Dutch shouldn't have talked to you like that. You saved Tilly because you cared. Not because you wanted recognition."
Caleb sighed, then offered her a gentle, warm smile. "It's okay. No need to think too hard on it. My focus is the gang. Keeping everyone safe. Making sure we stay together."
Mary-Beth looked at him with something soft, admiration, affection, worry, blended into her warm brown eyes. Before she could say more, the mansion doors opened.
Jack came running out with John right behind him, and Cain bolting happily through the porch.
"Caleb!" Jack called, waving.
Caleb and Mary-Beth both stood as the pair approached.
John tipped his hat. "Morning. Jack says you agreed on takin' him huntin'. Just wanted to make sure that's really okay."
"'Course," Caleb said immediately. "No problem at all."
John nodded gratefully. "Thanks. Just… keep an eye on him. He gets excited easy."
Jack puffed up proudly. "Pa, I'll be good!"
John smirked. "Uh huh. That'll be the day."
Mary-Beth stepped beside Caleb and asked, "Mind if I join too? Might be nice to get out for a bit."
Caleb didn't even hesitate. "Of course. Anything for you."
She smiled sweetly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
Caleb turned toward Jack. "You ready, bud?"
Jack nodded vigorously. "Ready!"
"That's what I like to hear." The four of them walked toward Morgan, who was grazing near the hitching post. Caleb patted her neck affectionately. "Alright girl," he murmured. "You gotta work a bit today. Carryin' three people and whatever we hunt. But I'll get you some treats after, promise."
...
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: -