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Caleb smiled slightly. "Agreed. We need a look around before committing, but this feels right." They dismounted, instructing the caravan to hold position while they scouted. Both men walked ahead, checking elevation, visibility, potential approach routes, and natural barriers.
It didn't take long.
Just beyond a small bend in the river was a leveled clearing, wide enough for wagons, bordered by the river on the right and mountains to the left. Trees formed a natural perimeter around the back, and game trails hinted at abundant wildlife in the area.
Perfect for camp.
Caleb stood still for a moment, letting it settle into his senses. It felt safe. Defendable. Quiet. Hidden without being inaccessible.
Charles grinned. "This is the one."
Caleb nodded. "Let's bring them over."
Charles rode back to the caravan, leading them into the clearing while Caleb remained at the location, surveying every angle carefully. Soon the wagons rolled in, rattling softly over the uneven ground until they came to a halt in the fresh morning light.
Hosea climbed down slowly, favoring his back. He looked around, taking in the flowing river, the shade of the mountainside, the openness of the clearing.
A slow smile spread across his face.
"This," he declared, "is a fine place to make a home."
Dutch remained quiet, his eyes unreadable as he followed Hosea's gaze, measuring the land, contemplating possibilities.
"It's perfect," Hosea said, a genuine smile finally breaking through his weariness. He turned to Caleb and Charles. "You two… you've done it. You've given us a real chance. Defensible, water, game… it's everything we need." He clapped a hand on each of their shoulders, his gratitude palpable.
Caleb dipped his head. "We just followed the signs."
Charles added, "And a bit of luck."
Hosea chuckled. "Luck or not, I'll take it."
He straightened and shouted toward the rest of the gang, "Alright everyone! We settle here! Pearson, Miss Grimshaw, start organizing the setup! We needcampsites, a cooking area, wash stations, and a perimeter! And someone start building a fence, like Caleb did back in Shady Belle! I don't want any wolves, bears, or curious Jack and Cain wandering in and out!"
Pearson groaned but nodded. "Alright folks! You heard the man! Let's get to work!"
Miss Grimshaw immediately began barking orders with her usual fierce authority. "You! Help with the tent poles! And you, don't just stand around like a lost hen, get those crates unloaded! And someone mind Jack and Cain before they run off into the river!"
Caleb heard her mention fences again, referencing the ones he built in Shady Belle to keep out the alligators and keep Jack safe. She gestured sharply toward the treeline. "We'll want barriers up before nightfall. Wolves roam this valley. Possibly a bear. No surprises."
As everyone began moving, Caleb stood quietly for a moment, watching the chaos turn into coordinated effort. He felt a small, warm swell of pride in his chest. They were building again, creating something stable, something real, something that might last longer than Shady Belle ever did.
He guided Morgan toward the riverbank and removed her saddle, letting her rest and drink. The mare dipped her muzzle into the cool water with a soft snort of relief.
Mary-Beth approached from behind, her shawl fluttering faintly in the breeze. "You found us a beautiful place," she said softly.
Caleb glanced at her and smiled. "Charles did most of it."
She shook her head gently. "You led us here. That matters."
He shrugged, trying not to let the warmth spread too obviously across his face. "Just did what I could."
She stepped closer, her voice quiet, soft enough that the rushing river nearly drowned it out. "I hope this place… can be better for everyone. That maybe we can breathe here."
"Yeah," Caleb murmured. "Me too."
Mary-Beth hesitated, then gently brushed her fingertips against the back of his hand. Not lingering. Not bold. Just… present.
Caleb's chest tightened pleasantly. "We'll make it work," he said. "Together."
She smiled at that, cheeks warming. "You better."
Then Karen called her name from across the clearing, and Mary-Beth excused herself with a soft laugh, heading to help set up the tents.
Arthur approached then, letting his horse graze nearby. "She's right, you know," he murmured.
Caleb raised a brow. "About what?"
"About bringing us here. This spot… it feels more like a home than anything we've had in a while." Arthur looked around, eyes softening faintly. "We might just make something good out of this."
Caleb glanced toward Dutch in the distance, standing still, staring at the river with a complicated look in his eyes. "If we're careful," Caleb said quietly.
Arthur followed his gaze. "Yeah… careful."
The two men stood in shared silence for a moment.
Camp gradually came to life around them. Wagons were positioned. Tents erected. Crates stacked. A fire pit dug. Pearson began organizing the cooking area, barking at the younger gang members to gather firewood. Miss Grimshaw directed people to form a perimeter plan. Charles and Bill began chopping logs to form the first parts of the fence. Jack ran around happily with Cain under Abigail's watchful eye.
It felt like the beginning of something new.
Something that might last longer than Caleb feared.
As the day stretched on, Caleb joined Charles in setting up stakes for the outer fence line. He helped Bill haul logs. Helped Tilly check tent layouts. Helped Javier repair a wagon wheel. Helped Pearson drag the cougar carcass to be processed.
By late afternoon, sweat gleamed on everyone's skin, but camp was taking shape, familiar, warm, structured.
By evening, the fire crackled warmly in the center of camp, casting flickering light across the new home they had carved into the valley.
Caleb sat on a fallen log near the riverbank with a fishing pole, listening to the sound of rushing water mixing with camp chatter. Mary-Beth sat beside him, writing something in her notebook. Charles sharpened his knife nearby. Arthur smoked quietly, leaning against a tree trunk. Sadie drinking a bottle of beer, while Uncle drinking bottle of bourbon.
John, Bill, and Javier finishing on the fences around the camp. Lenny and Sean on the first watch duty. Strauss was doing Strauss's things. Reverend Swanson are already drunk. Hosea was talking with Pearson and Mrs. Grimshaw about the camp condition. Karen, Tilly, and Molly was talking with each other. Abigail looking after Jack and Cain. As for Dutch, he still looking gout onto the river alone in silence.
The river whispered beside them, steady and calm, smoothing the edges of the long, exhausting day. Caleb sat on the fallen log with his fishing pole angled toward the water, Mary-Beth beside him scribbling elegant little lines in her notebook. Her shawl draped loosely around her shoulders, catching the soft orange hue of the firelight behind them.
For a moment, this felt like peace.
A real, honest peace.
Then, a jerk.
Caleb's rod dipped sharply.
He blinked, tightened his grip, then grinned. "Well… guess someone's hungry."
Mary-Beth's head lifted, her eyes warm as she watched. "Go on, then," she chuckled. "Show me how it's done."
The fish tugged hard, line snapping taut. Caleb braced his boots against the dirt, hauling back slowly so the line didn't snap. His muscles flexed, the strain running up his arm, but his high stats made it feel more like an arm wrestling match than a struggle.
Mary-Beth watched with soft amusement. "You look… very proud of yourself."
"He started it," Caleb shot back through a grin, teeth clenched as he pulled.
The fish splashed to the surface, a long, powerful shape writhing under the water's skin, before Caleb gave one final pull and brought it flopping onto the bank.
A Northern Pike. Big one. Strong enough to put up a real fight.
Caleb held it up with a half-laugh. "There we go."
Mary-Beth beamed. "That's dinner for sure."
He set the fish aside, grabbed a fresh worm, threaded it expertly onto the hook, and cast the line out again. The lure plopped into the river, rippling out in gentle circles as the current carried it slightly downstream.
It didn't take long for more bites.
Another sharp tug, another Northern Pike. Then a smaller but fast moving pull, a Steelhead Trout.
Mary-Beth quietly cheered each time.
Four more catches followed, each one a small victory, a reminder that life could be simple. Three Northern Pike total. Two Steelhead Trout. Caleb's small pile of fish grew beside him, glistening in the faint moonlight.
When he finally packed up, he brought the five fish straight to Pearson.
The cook raised a brow, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Well now… this'll make supper worth eatin'."
"Do whatever you want with them," Caleb said. "Surprise us."
Pearson grinned, showing a few crooked teeth. "Oh trust me, son… tonight's gonna be a feast. Between this and that cougar meat, we'll be eatin' better than kings."
Caleb smirked back, excitement tickling in his chest. "Can't wait."
He returned to the main campfire, where warmth and laughter had already begun to fill the clearing.
Javier sat on a crate with his guitar, fingers dancing effortlessly across the strings as he sang a soft, rhythmic Mexican tune. His voice drifted through the crisp evening air, soothing like the river itself. Karen, Tilly, Uncle, Sadie, John, and Hosea were gathered around, some drinking beer, some bourbon, others just relaxing into the crackling campfire glow.
Caleb and Mary-Beth settled down together beside Tilly. The fire crackled, sending sparks spiraling upward into the dark sky. The long ride, the hard work of setting up camp, the exhaustion, they all felt lighter under the gentle sway of Javier's melody.
Karen occasionally clapped along. Uncle hummed lazily, bottle dangling in one hand. Sadie sat with her boots crossed and a half empty bottle of beer, eyes soft but alert. John leaned forward on his knees, looking far more at peace than he'd been at Shady Belle. Hosea seemed content, taking slow, measured sips while observing the group with grandfatherly fondness.
Even Cain lay stretched beside Jack, who laughed at something Abigail whispered to him.
It was the first time all day the gang had truly exhaled.
Then—
Footsteps.
Heavy ones.
Dutch joined them.
Javier's tune faltered for half a second before steadying again. People stiffened slightly, though everyone tried to act normal, tried to pretend nothing still lingered from the earlier argument at Shady Belle.
Dutch didn't sit. Not yet. He stood at the edge of the firelight, silhouetted by orange glow, eyes scanning every face before settling, eventually and inevitably, on Caleb.
Mary-Beth's writing stopped. Arthur stiffened where he leaned against a tree. Even Sadie lowered her bottle.
Dutch finally spoke.
"Caleb," he said, voice deceptively calm. "I've been thinkin'."
Caleb's gut tightened.
Mary-Beth's hand brushed his back gently, grounding him.
Dutch stepped closer into the firelight, eyes shadowed yet sharp. "I have a question for you." His tone slid through the air like a blade. "How many men ambushed you and John… when all of us split off into groups to rob those government stagecoaches?"
Silence.
Camp froze.
Caleb slowly stood, turning to face him directly. "…Around five or six," he answered evenly. "Not as many as you, Charles, or Arthur had on your groups. That's why we could go help you after."
Nods followed. Javier. Hosea. Sadie. Even John stepped forward, backing it.
"Like Caleb said," John agreed, "there were maybe five or six of 'em. We were real damn lucky, Dutch. If there'd been more, it coulda gone bad."
Dutch stared at him.
Then stared harder at Caleb.
His voice lowered. "Five or six."
"That's right," Caleb repeated firmly.
Dutch's jaw tightened. "Funny how that works, ain't it? My group got more than twenty. Arthur's got near a dozen. Charles too. And yet… you and John, just five or six." His voice grew colder. "Very… suspicious." The crackling fire seemed to hush under his words.
...
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: -