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Another quiet moment passed. Then Mary-Beth asked, voice hesitant but hopeful, "Do you think we'll get out of this life, Caleb? Someday?" He didn't want to lie. He didn't want to crush her hope either.
So he told the most honest truth he could.
"I think… if we're smart, careful, and stick together… we got a chance. Small, but real." His hand stroked her hair. "And if we don't escape… then we'll face whatever comes together."
She snuggled closer, hugging him tighter. "Then I'm not afraid."
Caleb smiled, his heart warm. He wasn't sure what the future held.
But he knew for sure that since the first time since arriving in this world…since trying to alter the doomed fate of the gang while doing anything he can even forgoing the norms and beliefs he have form his past life to survive…
He felt like he had found a place that become his resting and safe place from the fighting beyond survival and strategy.
Mary-Beth shifted and looked up at him with sleepy eyes. "Tomorrow's going to be hard."
"Yeah," Caleb murmured. "It is."
"Dutch is getting worse."
"I know."
"You're still going to help Arthur and Hosea keep everyone safe… right?"
"Of course," he said. "I won't let Dutch tear this family apart."
Mary-Beth cupped his cheek. "Good. Because we need you. All of us. I need you."
Caleb kissed her softly again. "Then I'll be here. Always."
Mary-Beth smiled, content and warm.
Sleep slowly pulled her under, her head resting on his chest, her breathing steady.
Caleb stayed awake a while longer, staring at the ceiling, listening to the distant murmurs of camp, thinking about Dutch… about the Pinkertons… about the looming collapse he was fighting so desperately to change.
But then he looked down at the woman sleeping peacefully in his arms.
And every dark thought lost some of its weight.
He exhaled.
Held her a little tighter.
And finally, finally, allowed himself to sleep.
Morning crept slowly into the old Shady Belle room.
Pale sunlight leaked through the cracked shutters in thin, dusty ribbons, illuminating the quiet space where Caleb and Mary-Beth lay tangled together beneath the worn quilt. The world outside was still murky with the last traces of dawn, not yet awake, the air cool and still.
Mary-Beth blinked herself awake slowly, her lashes fluttering like she was afraid the moment might vanish if she opened her eyes too fast. For a heartbeat, she didn't fully register where she was, only that she was warm, cocooned, safe.
Then memory rushed in all at once, the hallway, the candle, his careful hands, the slow, aching sweetness of last night.The way she'd clung to him like he was the first breath after drowning.
Heat flooded her cheeks immediately, soft, rosy, and unmistakably flustered.
And then, as she shifted ever so slightly, the tender ache in her lower body greeted her like a forgotten bruise.
"Ow—" she winced quietly, instinctively tightening her thighs.
That jolted her fully awake.
Her blush deepened to a warm pink, spreading from her cheeks down her neck as everything rushed back in vivid impressionistic flashes. She shifted experimentally and bit her lip against the tender ache. It hurt, yes, but it was the kind of hurt that made her want to smile through the wince.
She turned her head on the pillow and found Caleb still asleep beside her, one arm flung protectively across her waist.
Caleb lay peacefully, chest rising and falling in steady, even breaths. His dark hair had fallen across his forehead, the hard lines of his face were softened in sleep, almost boyish. In sleep, the constant alertness in his expression was gone, no anxiety, no calculating tension, no looming dread. Just a softness she almost never saw on him.
A small, helpless smile curved her mouth. He looked peaceful, truly peaceful, for the first time since she'd known him.
"Handsome fool," she whispered so quietly even she could barely hear it.
Working past the sting of her sore muscles, she leaned forward carefully and pressed a tiny kiss to his cheek.
The touch was feather light.
But it was enough.
Caleb's eyes fluttered open instantly, sleepy but sharpening the moment they found her face inches from his. A slow, warm smile spread across his mouth.
"Mornin', beautiful," he murmured, voice gravel rough.
Before she could reply, he cupped her jaw gently and pulled her into a soft kiss on the lips, a warm, lingering one that made her inhale sharply against him. Mary-Beth startled for half a second, then melted into it, her fingers curling instinctively in the sheets.
Before she could answer, he cupped the back of her neck and drew her into a proper kiss, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier. His tongue slid against hers and Mary-Beth made a small, startled sound that melted into a moan.
The kiss turned hot fast, heat pooled low in her belly again, the ache transforming into something sweeter. Caleb shifted, rolling half on top of her, the hard evidence of his arousal pressing against her hip. She felt him throb and her own body answered with a helpless clench.
Another moan slipped free, just as then—
BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Caleb?! You awake in there, son?!" Hosea's amused voice came through the wood.
Caleb tore his mouth from hers with a frustrated growl. Mary-Beth was left gasping, lips swollen, eyes wide, as she yelped softly and nearly jumped. Caleb pulled back immediately, both of them breathing hard, faces flushed, before then he cleared his throat.
Caleb cleared his throat. "Yeah, Hosea! I'm up! Was up! Uh… thanks to you."
Hosea chuckled, the kind of laugh that carried decades of amusement and mischief.
"Well, good! Then get your pants on and start packing. We gotta move out tonight to Roanoke Valley. Lots to do, son."
"Right… right. I'll hurry."
Bootsteps started fading away, then abruptly stopped. A pause.
Then Hosea called again, voice full of teasing old-man smugness. "And Caleb, make sure Miss Gaskill in good shape for the move. Girl's gotta be comfortable, you hear?"
The boot steps retreated, then Hosea's voice floated back faintly, "Night worth rememberin', I reckon!"
Mary-Beth squeaked in mortification and yanked the quilt over her head, face burning crimson beneath the fabric. Caleb threw his head back and laughed, quiet, but rich and genuine.
"He's never gonna let this go," he said, voice warm with affection.
She peeked out from the quilt, hair tousled, cheeks scarlet. "I'm gonna die of shame."
"Nah." Caleb leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. "You're gonna live a long, happy life gettin' teased by every single one of 'em. And I'll be right there laughin' with you."
She groaned into the quilt once again. "Please never let me face him again…"
He reached out and stroked her back, gentle. "C'mon, it ain't that bad."
He rose from the bed without a stitch on him, morning light gilding the lean lines of his back, the curve of his backside, the faint red lines her nails had left on his shoulders. Mary-Beth's mouth went dry. She sat up, clutching the quilt to her chest, and stared helplessly. Caleb glanced over his shoulder and caught her looking. His grin turned wicked.
"Like what you see, darlin'?"
"Caleb!" she squeaked, covering her face with both hands, but he only laughed softer, crossed the room, and kissed the crown of her head through the quilt.
After that Caleb looked down at himself, then snorted. "Well… guess that explains why your face is that red."
"Please get dressed," she mumbled, peeking at him between her fingers, mortified and flustered and undeniably fond.
He leaned down once agan, kissed her forehead softly, sending another warm flutter through her, then stepped away to put his clothes on.
Once he was dressed, he helped her sit up carefully. She winced slightly, legs weak from the night before.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
"Y... yes. Just… sore," she whispered, cheeks flaming.
He smiled, soft, not teasing, and helped her into her dress piece by piece, gentle and patient as if she were porcelain. Every time she hissed, he paused, hands gentle on her hips, murmuring apologies against her temple until she laughed and told him she wasn't made of glass.
When both were presentable, Caleb packed what little he owned, some ammo, clothes, the few books he kept, and his carefully maintained weapons. Not much. His whole life fit into a single bag, and then offered his arm.
"Lean on me. Ain't lettin' you hobble down them stairs alone."
She took it gratefully, cheeks still pink, and together they stepped into the hallway.
As they stepped into the main foyer, Sadie and Sean were hauling out furniture, chairs, a small table, even a partially broken cabinet.
"This junk'll still be useful!" Sadie barked, tossing a chair toward the wagon.
Sean spotted Caleb and Mary-Beth and immediately grinned like a devil.
"Well now!" Sean crowed, red hair sticking up like he'd been wrestling bears. "Look who finally crawled outta bed! Took your sweet time, didn't ya?! And here I thought the house swallowed ya whole, Mary-Beth!"
Sadie looked up, smirked wickedly. "Mary-Beth, you're walkin' mighty slow there. Legs okay, sweetheart?"
Mary-Beth nearly combusted on the spot, turning so red she could've lit a lamp. She made a strangled sound and buried her face in Caleb's sleeve.
"Sadie!" she squeaked.
Caleb just shook his head, fighting a grin. "Shut it, both of you, or I'll tell Karen where you hid her good whiskey, Sean."
Sean gasped theatrically. "You wound me, brother! I'm merely congratulatin' young love!"
Sadie and Sean's laughter echoed through the room.
Outside, as they stepped onto the porch, they ran into Karen and Tilly carrying blankets and some old paintings.
Caleb called out, "Hey! Can you two help me look after Mary-Beth today? She's a little… uh…"
Before he could finish, Karen and Tilly exchanged a look. Then both women burst into teasing grins.
"Oh we know, and honey," she crowed, looping an arm around Mary-Beth's waist, "we been waitin' all mornin' for the details!"
"Yeah," Tilly added. "She didn't come back to her bed last night."
Mary-Beth squealed and hid her face behind her hands again while her friends surrounded her with a flurry of knowing giggles.
"Oh, be quiet, both of you!" she whispered fiercely, mortified.
Caleb chuckled, gave her hand a squeeze, and headed off to help the others. Mary-Beth watched him go, cheeks flushed but eyes warm, before being pulled into a storm of playful teasing from her friends.
Hours passed in a blur.
Caleb lifted crates, folded tents, secured wagons, tied down supplies, and ran back and forth helping whoever needed it. Most of the gang worked tirelessly—everyone except Dutch, who kept his distance, pacing alone at the edge of the swamp with a storm brewing behind his eyes.
Caleb noticed.
Everyone noticed.
And no one said a word.
By afternoon, the sound of wagon wheels crunching over dirt made Caleb turn sharply, hand flying to his Navy revolver.
A wagon rolled into camp.
He squinted—
Arthur.
Caleb relaxed, holstering his gun. "Arthur! Hell, where'd you get that thing?"
Arthur tipped his hat. "We could use another wagon. Some of the folks wanna bring furniture from the mansion. Seems a shame to leave it all for the rats."
Caleb nodded, looking over the sturdy wagon. "Makes sense. Where'd you get it?"
Arthur's demeanor shifted, suddenly unable to meet Caleb's eyes. "Saint Denis," he muttered.
"Saint Denis?" Caleb's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You went back into the city? Arthur, that's a hell of a risk. Why?"
Arthur hesitated, jaw tightening. Something shadowed his expression.
He finally exhaled.
"…Mary sent me a letter."
Caleb's brows lifted. "Mary? She's in town?"
"Yeah," Arthur murmured. "Needed my help."
Caleb studied him quietly. Arthur didn't look heartbroken, not fully, but he looked… conflicted. Haunted. Like old love had clawed at scars he thought were healed. Caleb put a hand on his shoulder. "You alright?"
...
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: -