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They followed the tracks deeper into unknown territory. The woods grew much lusher. The hills less steeper. The air much warmer. Eventually, they found the outlaws, three men around a dying fire, rifles leaning against a stump, satchels full of stolen goods from some poor trader down the river.
They didn't see Caleb and John coming until it was too late.
The confrontation was quick, tense, and deadly in the way things often became in this world. One outlaw drew, where John shot first. Another tried to run, Caleb brought him down. The third surrendered, shaking, and Caleb made sure he dropped every weapon he had.
"What do we do with him?" John asked.
Caleb stared at the man, young and terrified, the type who fell into outlaw life because there was nowhere else to go.
"Tell him to leave," Caleb said. "Far away from here. And never come back."
The outlaw fled, stumbling through the underbrush.
John watched him disappear. "You think he'll stay gone?"
"Yeah," Caleb murmured. "Fear's a good motivato fo someone so young."
They burned the stolen goods so no one else could track their camp, then marked the bodies for burial later if necessary. The woods felt heavy after that, quieter, more solemn.
By the time they began heading back toward camp, the sun was slipping low across the treetops.
John glanced over. "Y'know… you're handling all this pretty well."
Caleb shrugged lightly. "Trying to, anyway."
John smirked. "Mary-Beth'll be proud."
Caleb sighed dramatically. "I regret now that I agree to be in a group with you Marston."
John barked a laugh. "Too late now."
They rode in comfortable silence for a stretch until the trees finally parted and the valley opened before them again, camp shimmering in the last rays of daylight.
Smoke rose from the firepit.
Someone, probably Reverend Swanson form the voice, was singing off key.
Mary-Beth stood by the water, washing a cloth, her hair glowing gold in the sunset.
Dutch was nowhere to be seen.
Arthur and Charles weren't back yet, but their distant silhouettes could be seen riding in from the west.
John nudged his horse forward. "Come on. Let's tell Hosea what we found."
Caleb took one last look at Mary-Beth, who noticed him and smiled softly across the clearing.
His heart eased.
Caleb nudged his horse forward alongside John, both men guiding their mounts down the slight dip leading toward the heart of camp. The sounds of evening drifted around them, the crackle of the firepit, the faint clatter of Pearson sorting something near the wagon. The sky overhead had gone a deep orange bleeding into purple, the light softening everything it touched.
They reached the hitching posts near the center of camp. John swung off his horse with familiar ease, tying the reins and patting the animal's neck. Caleb dismounted as well, wiping a bit of mud from his glove before securing his horse beside John's. The scent of pine and lingering gunpowder still clung to his clothes, faint reminders of the confrontation they'd left behind in the woods.
Across the clearing, Mary-Beth looked up again. She offered him another gentle, knowing smile before returning to scrubbing the cloth in her hands. Caleb exhaled slowly, letting that small moment settle something warm inside him.
"Come on," John said with a tilt of his head. "Let's let the old man know what we found."
Hosea was exactly where one might expect him to be at this hour, seated comfortably at the roundtable that faced Dutch's tent, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp behind the book he was reading. The lantern beside him flickered softly, casting warm gold against his white hair. Papers were arranged in neat stacks near his elbow, notes, plans, half formed strategies he always kept nearby.
He heard their footsteps before he saw them. Hosea looked up with a practiced smile, his eyes softening at the familiar sight of the two men returning.
"Well now," he greeted, setting a finger inside the book to keep his place. "You two are back. How was your scouting around the area?"
John was the first to answer. He hooked his thumbs casually into his belt, shifting his weight.
"Pretty good," he replied. "We ran into a family of three at a rundown shack east o' here. Harmless folks. They're just passin' through on their way to Annesburg. We told 'em not to wander this way, but sounds like they weren't planning on it anyhow."
Hosea nodded thoughtfully. He always liked to know who was traveling nearby, whether they were threats, opportunities, or simply obstacles to avoid. Before he could ask any follow-up questions, Caleb continued where John left off.
"And after that," Caleb said, "I tracked down a group of four outlaws further north. John came with me. We killed three of them. The last one, he was young, very green, barely old enough to grow a proper beard." Caleb shook his head. "He dropped his weapons. We let him go. Fear's a big motivator for someone like that. He won't cause trouble. Not for us, not for anyone."
Hosea lowered his book fully now, placing it onto the table beside him. He gave Caleb a long, assessing look before nodding.
"Right," he said quietly. "I suspected there might be a few people lingering around these pa rts. Not many, mind you, but enough to be cautious. And it's not that I don't trust you," he added with a faint smile. "You're the one who recommended this area. Said it would be safe enough. And it is. I just like to be certain."
Caleb shook his head, dismissing any misunderstanding.
"I understand what you're doing," he replied. "And I support it. Better to make sure than to have something slip past us and catch us off guard."
Before Hosea could respond, hoofbeats approached. Arthur and Charles rode in from the west trail, the silhouettes Caleb had seen earlier now fully visible as they passed between the trees and into the valley light. They dismounted, hitching their horses with familiar efficiency, and then made their way toward the roundtable.
"Looks like we got the whole gang here," Arthur said as he came up beside them, rolling his shoulders. "What'd we miss?"
Hosea gestured lightly toward Caleb and John. "These two were telling me what they found during scouting. Go on," he added, looking to John and Caleb. "Tell them."
John repeated the brief summary, and Caleb added the details as he had for Hosea. Arthur let out a low chuckle after hearing the whole account.
"Well," Arthur said, "looks like you two had yourselves an eventful day. Me and Charles, meanwhile, barely found more than some rabbits and a fox sniffin' around. Nothin' worth shootin' at."
Caleb clicked his tongue in exaggerated irritation.
"Should've gone with you then, Arthur. All John did was bring me trouble. Twice. Maybe three times if you count his singing."
"Hey now," John cut in with a playful glare. "We had a pretty good time ridin' together. Don't pretend otherwise."
Caleb snorted. "Sure. If you call being dragged into your nonsense a good time."
Charles smirked faintly. Arthur gave Caleb a light nudge with his elbow.
"Well," Arthur said, "that's what you get for makin' friends."
The banter faded into comfortable laughter that settled over the group like a warm blanket. For a moment, it almost felt like things were normal, like they weren't fugitives dodging Pinkertons with nowhere left to run.
Hosea closed the moment with a soft clap of his hands.
"Since the area around us seems safe enough," he said, "we can rest easy for a bit. Lay back, gather our bearings. No need to push ourselves tonight."
Caleb sensed the timing. If he waited longer, someone would wander over, Dutch, Pearson, Bill, someone who would complicate the conversation. So he spoke before the lull could disperse them.
"Actually," Caleb said, raising his voice just enough for all four to hear. "There's something I'd like to tell you."
Hosea's brows lifted in mild curiosity. "Oh? What is it, son?"
Caleb took a slow breath.
"I'm going to leave camp for a while," he said. "I want to check on the situation outside. See what's happening beyond these woods."
The reaction was immediate.
Hosea's expression tightened with worry. Arthur frowned. John's eyes widened slightly. Charles glanced at Caleb with quiet concern.
"You sure you need to go out now?" Hosea asked, his voice carrying a new edge. "We don't need new information at this moment. The Pinkertons are still crawling around Saint Denis, and likely all across Lemoyne lookin' for us. There's a good chance they've already pegged you as one of us, considering all the messes we've been tangled in lately."
Arthur nodded firmly. "He's right. You don't need to put yourself in danger for the rest of us. We can lay low here for a couple weeks. Then we go check things. There ain't no rush."
Caleb shook his head immediately.
"If we wait a couple weeks, it could already be too late," he said quietly.
That stopped them cold.
Because the truth in his voice, paired with the subtle influence of his persuasion and acting, sank into their minds. They felt it even if they couldn't explain why.
Caleb continued, keeping his tone steady and reasonable.
"We have no idea how fast things are moving out there. No idea what the Pinkertons are planning. No idea if Dutch has stirred up more trouble somewhere we haven't seen yet. I can get ahead of things. Prevent problems before they reach us."
His gaze drifted briefly toward Dutch's tent, as if to underline the silent point, Dutch's judgment was slipping. He was becoming impulsive, overconfident. Someone had to counterbalance that.
Arthur folded his arms. He didn't like it, but something in Caleb's tone made him hesitate.
Hosea eventually sighed, shoulders slumping.
"All right," he said softly. "If you're sure…" He paused, searching Caleb's expression for any doubt. There was none. "Then go. But be careful. Please. Keep yourself safe. And once you get what you need, come back quickly."
Caleb nodded, a quiet surge of satisfaction blooming in his chest. He had the green light. He could finally move forward with the tasks he needed to complete, tasks he knew would alter the course of the gang's future.
"I will," Caleb promised.
Hosea gave him a small, fatherly smile. "Good. Just remember: you matter to this camp. Don't go forgettin' that."
Arthur reached out and clapped Caleb's shoulder, not gently, but with sincere conviction.
"Just… don't do anything stupid."
John added: "And don't run into more trouble without me. I'm startin' to think you attract it."
Charles simply nodded. "I'll keep an eye on things here till you return."
Caleb let out a quiet laugh. "I'll do my best."
The group slowly dispersed after that, drifting toward their various tasks. Hosea returned to his book. Arthur and Charles headed for the provisions wagon, muttering about the animals they'd spotted. John went to check on Abigail and Jack.
Caleb stepped away from the table, walked a few paces toward the river, and breathed in the crisp evening air.
Behind him, footsteps approached, light, soft, and familiar.
Mary-Beth.
She stopped at his side, her hands now free of the cloth she'd been washing earlier. Her smile was gentle, but her eyes carried that particular shimmer of concern she tried to hide.
"I saw you talking with Hosea," she said. "Looked serious." Caleb didn't answer immediately. Instead, he looked out across the river as the last light of the sun dipped beyond the horizon.
"Just tellin him of our scouting and then asked for Hosea permission to leave camp," he said. "Telling him I want to check on things."
Mary-Beth's breath hitched the tiniest bit. Not enough for most people to notice. But Caleb did.
"Oh," she murmured. "Then yo will leave tomorrow."
He finally turned toward her.
"I'll be careful," he said. "I promise."
She gave him a soft, almost wistful smile. "I know you will. You always are. But… just don't stay gone too long, all right? And don't forget my burger and fries when you come back." Caleb felt something warm tug in his chest again, something fragile, something precious. "I won't," he said quietly. "I'll come back."
...
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: -