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Charles, who had been standing silently beside him, placed a heavy, comforting hand on his shoulder. "Do not let it bother you," the larger man said, his voice a low rumble. "Everyone knows. He has held a... Some sort of grudge... ever since that big argument when you returned from Valentine with Mary-Beth bringing all those supplies."
Caleb nodded. The memory was clear. His extended stay in town with Mary-Beth without his permission, and his subsequent subtle challenge in Dutch's eye as he goes against his word even if it's for the better of the gang, had not been forgotten.
He was now firmly in the category of those who "doubted," and in Dutch's mind, doubt was akin to disloyalty. He watched Dutch and Arthur disappear into the mansion, then turned to survey the scene.
The gang was spilling into the yard, their initial awe giving way to the practical chaos of moving in. Caleb then exhaled through his nose, his jaw tightening slightly. "Yeah… I figured as much. But it's fine. I can take it."
"I know," Charles replied. "But sometimes it's better not to draw his eye. Not these days."
Caleb nodded slowly, his gaze wandering across the courtyard where the others were unpacking. "You're right. I'll keep my head down. We've got enough trouble waiting for us without adding more."
Charles gave a faint smile. "Good. Now, let's lend a hand before Miss Grimshaw bites someone's head off."
The two men joined the bustle. Caleb helped Pearson lift a crate of provisions from one wagon to the old kitchen entrance while the women began sweeping out the dust and debris inside.
He caught a glimpse of Mary-Beth near the steps, her sleeves rolled up, hair tied back, carrying a bundle of clean linens. When she noticed him, she offered a small and weary smile, the kind that made the grime of the day seem lighter somehow. He returned it, tipping his hat before moving on.
Evening began to creep in as the sun sank behind the cypress trees. The swamp chorus came alive, frogs croaking, crickets chirping, the occasional splash of something large moving through the murky water.
A few lanterns flickered to life around the fountain and porch, casting the first warm glow Shady Belle had seen in months, maybe years.
Arthur and Dutch finally returned from their tour. Dutch was still in high spirits, gesturing grandly as he spoke. "You see, Arthur? Solid walls, good cover on all sides, a vantage from the balcony, and the swamp around us, perfect natural defense. The law can't touch us here."
Arthur only gave a noncommittal grunt. Caleb caught his eye as they passed, and Arthur's look said everything Dutch wouldn't, "It's safe for now, but don't bet your life on it."
By the time the campfire smoke began to curl up into the night sky, the gang was settling in. The women had cleaned out a few rooms for sleeping quarters.
Pearson managed to cook a stew that didn't taste like death, and the men sat around with bowls in hand, laughing tiredly. Javier strummed his guitar on the steps, his tune carrying out into the night air.
Caleb sat apart for a while, leaning against one of the veranda posts with his coffee tin. His mind was half here, half somewhere down the road. "Saint Denis," he thought.
Once the gang settled and Dutch's mood stabilized, he'd make his move. After doing everything he have planned while waiting for the gang to arrive, maybe he could something finer for Mary-Beth if he could manage it.
He smiled faintly at that thought, though a part of him knew how quickly dreams burned in this world.
Charles joined him after a while, handing him a flask. "You look like a man planning his next hundred miles."
Caleb chuckled. "Just thinking ahead. We're close to Saint Denis now. Hard not to be curious."
"Be careful when you go," Charles warned softly. "That city's got its own kind of danger. Money and law, same devil, different hat."
"Yeah," Caleb said, taking a drink. "But I'll manage."
They fell into easy silence, watching the flickering campfires and listening to the laughter of their family, the only one either of them had.
Up above, a night heron drifted across the purple blue sky, and the air hung thick with the smell of stew and swamp water. Shady Belle might have been rotten to the bone, but for the first time in weeks, the gang had a roof over their heads, and that counted for something.
Arthur wandered over eventually, his own tin cup in hand. "You two keepin' watch or just brooding?"
"Little of both," Caleb replied with a half smile.
Arthur chuckled. "Figures. Dutch's already talkin' big. Thinks this place'll be our salvation. But you know how he gets, can't sit still long before dreamin' up the next mess."
Caleb nodded. "Yeah. But for now, maybe we can breathe. We've earned that much."
Arthur looked out toward the dark line of trees. "Hope you're right, partner."
For a long while, the three men just stood there, silent guardians of a half dead plantation, watching the swamp shimmer under the moonlight. The crickets sang, the frogs croaked, and somewhere far off, a gator splashed. The world felt still, fragile, like the quiet between storms.
Inside, Dutch's voice carried faintly through the open windows, booming with confidence and charm as he spun another vision of freedom to anyone willing to listen. Caleb let it fade into background noise. He knew, deep down, that this peace wouldn't last. Nothing ever did with Dutch's state of mind like that.
For the next two days, Caleb stayed within the boundaries of Shady Belle, making sure everyone was properly settled and that Dutch's erratic mood had finally stabilized. The gang had begun to adapt to their new surroundings—the old plantation's hollow halls were being filled with the faint sounds of life again. Pearson had claimed the kitchen as his domain, Miss Grimshaw had already begun organizing sleeping quarters and cleaning schedules, and the others had set up their own makeshift corners of comfort.
Caleb, however, couldn't quite relax. He knew the swamp wasn't a safe place, not by a long shot. The air itself seemed to hum with danger, the thick mist hiding more than it revealed. The first morning, while others were busy organizing supplies, he took it upon himself to make a complete sweep of the area—checking the mansion perimeter, scouting the nearby tree line, and especially the jetty that jutted out into the sluggish green water.
There were gators in those waters. He saw their eyes, bright pinpricks of yellow green glinting in the morning sun, nostrils barely visible above the murk. One even drifted close enough to the shore that Caleb could hear the faint ripple of its movement.
His instincts told him that sooner or later, one of those beasts would come too close to camp and with Jack and Cain, the camp dog, or the other way around as the two of them wandering around, that couldn't be allowed to happen.
So, he decided to act.
He gathered what materials he could, fallen logs, thick branches, leftover planks from the wagons, and began constructing a crude fence along the most vulnerable stretches near the swamp's edge.
It wasn't much at first, but he worked methodically, digging the bases deep into the wet soil and weaving the branches together to form a barrier. It wouldn't stop a determined gator forever, but it would be enough to warn the camp, and also to allow them to kill or scare the gators.
Charles found him first, pausing from his morning patrol to watch the younger man hammering a post into the ground. "You planning to fence in the whole swamp?" he asked, tone mildly amused.
Caleb grinned without stopping his work. "Not the whole swamp. Just enough to keep Jack from wanderin' off where he shouldn't. Cain too. Don't want to find what's left of them floating out there one morning, if there's even any left of them at the time."
Charles hearing that nodded, the humor fading from his face as he realized the truth in it. "That's smart. I'll grab John. We'll help."
John arrived not long after, sleeves rolled up, eyes serious. The moment Caleb mentioned Jack's safety, he didn't hesitate. The three of them worked through the morning, hammering, tying, and stacking. By midday, they'd built a decent fence stretching across the most exposed section of shoreline. Hosea wandered over during their work, his pipe smoke curling lazily in the humid air.
"Well, now," Hosea said with a faint chuckle, "seems like you boys are turning this old ruin into something civilized."
Caleb straightened up, wiping sweat from his brow. "Just trying to make sure we don't lose anyone to the swamp, Hosea."
"That's good thinking," the old con man said, nodding approvingly. "Damn fine work, Caleb. You've got foresight, more than most around here lately."
The compliment spread quickly through camp. By evening, several members had gathered near the fence to inspect it, offering their thanks. Mary-Beth, Tilly, even Miss Grimshaw stopped by to say something kind. Lenny clapped Caleb on the back, grinning. "Never thought I'd see the day someone did somethin' practical before Dutch told 'em to."
Everyone laughed at that, except Dutch himself.
He stood near the veranda, watching from the shadows, his face unreadable. No one noticed him except Sadie, who leaned against one of the pillars with her rifle. Her sharp eyes flicked between Dutch and Caleb, noting the faint tension in Dutch's jaw. There was something behind his stare, resentment, maybe, or suspicion. Whatever it was, it wasn't approval.
Still, Caleb ignored it. He wasn't doing it for praise. He was doing it because it needed to be done.
The following day passed with a sense of calm, a rhythm returning to camp. Caleb spent time with Mary-Beth whenever he could, the two of them stealing quiet moments between chores. They sat on the steps of the mansion in the evenings, sharing coffee and small talk. She asked him about the world beyond the camp, what Saint Denis looked like, what he'd seen during his fabricated travels.
When he mentioned he'd soon be heading into the city, her eyes lit up. "Saint Denis? Oh, I've always wanted to go there," she said, her voice carrying that soft excitement that always warmed him. "If you find a bookstore… maybe bring me back something? A novel or two. Or maybe some new clothes. The ones I've got have been washed more times than I can count."
Caleb smiled, resting a hand on hers. "I'll bring both. A book and a dress. Promise."
She beamed and leaned in to hug him tightly. He felt her warmth, her heartbeat, and for that moment, the world outside of Shady Belle didn't exist.
By the time the second night fell, everyone was starting to feel the comfort of having a roof and a defensible position.
Dutch had taken to holding court again in the evenings, pipe in hand, his voice booming through the open parlor windows as he painted grand dreams of freedom and wealth. Arthur listened in silence most of the time, Charles with quiet skepticism. Caleb, meanwhile, knew better than to get drawn in.
He had other plans.
The morning of the third day came bright and heavy with humidity. The camp buzzed with activity, Pearson was unloading more supplies, the women were scrubbing furniture, and Dutch was pacing near the fountain, deep in conversation with Hosea. Caleb approached the two, dressed neatly for travel, his revolvers holstered and a satchel over his shoulder.
...
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 4)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 4)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 3)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- 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 2)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 1)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 3)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 4)
- Teaching (Lvl 2)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl 3)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
Money: 1,814 dollars and 46 cents
Inventory: 104,021 dollars and 22 cents, 7 gold nuggets, 58 gold bars, 7 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, 5 gold rings, 5 silver rings, 6 silver pocket watches, 3 silver buckles, 3 gold buckles, 1 gold pocket compass, 2 platinum pocket watches, 2 Colm's Schofields, and land deed (Parcel)
Bank: -