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Caleb blinked, then immediately smiled. "Mr. Dunn?" He stepped down the steps, extending his hand. "Well, look at that. I wanted to thank you for keepin' my room exclusive to me. That was real kind of you."
Mr. Dunn accepted it with both of his, shaking firmly. "For you? Son, that's the least I could do. You're the hero of Valentine after all."
Caleb let out a short laugh. "Hero? I'm just a normal worker at this fine restaurant and also a bounty hunter who catches bad guys."
"Don't play modest with me," Dunn said with a deeper chuckle. "This town's safer because of you. Better fed because of you due to the low criminal activity. And far more lively. Folks talk, Caleb. Ain't hard to notice the way things moved upward since you walked in."
Caleb shook his head. "I just try to help where I can."
"And that," Mr. Dunn said, "is precisely why you're appreciated. By this town appreciates it and I."
Caleb nodded slowly, appreciating the sincerity.
"You ever need help," Caleb said, "no questions asked, you come find me."
"Generous offer," Mr. Dunn said with a chuckle. "I may take you up on it one day. But for now, I simply wanted to welcome you back, personally."
"Well," Caleb said, "your timing's perfect. I was just takin' a break."
"You work too hard," Mr. Dunn remarked.
"Comes with the territory," Caleb replied.
They stepped aside as a pair of hotel guests walked up the street, the lantern light catching Mr. Dunn's glasses. The man folded his arms, expression thoughtful.
"I heard you're headin' out of town again soon," Mr. Dunn said.
"For a bit," Caleb admitted. "Business in Saint Denis."
MR. Dunn clicked his tongue. "Place like that… full of things that could corrupt a men whole."
"Not me," Caleb murmured with quiet certainty.
Mr. Dunn studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "I believe that."
They exchanged a few more pleasantries before Mr. Dunn patted Caleb's arm and then Mr. Dunn tipped his hat. "Enjoy your evening, Caleb. And welcome back to Valentine." With that, the hotel owner turned and made his way down the street, disappearing toward the corner by the general store.
When the man finally left, Caleb flicked his cigarette aside, grinding the ember out with his boot. He took one last look at his restaurant, warm lights, chatter, his employees finishing cleanup with tired grins.
This…
This was what he built.
And tomorrow? Ice cream.
But beyond that, Saint Denis, new challenges, new alliances, the next stage of his growing empire. He flicked ash off the cigarette, then took another drag, letting the smoke settle deep in his chest. Caleb tapped the cigarette lightly, grinding the ember under his boot heel before stepping back inside.
Eventually, through the quiet hum of the evening, he stepped back inside the restaurant to check on the final cleanup. Jasper glanced up.
"Everything alright boss?" Jasper asked.
"Yeah," Caleb said, rolling his shoulders. "Just talked with Mr. Dunn."
"Oh? That's good, boss."
Soon yhe restaurant was fully cleaned, lanterns casting warm light over the wooden floorboards. The employees lingered near the back tables, discussing the day's rush.
Mickey polishing trays. Jessie wiping down the counter. Simon and Troy stacking crates for tomorrow morning. Tommy and Nora was exhausted as they rested, still adapting to the busy work style.
Caleb took in the sight with a sense of accomplishment and quiet pride.
This was growth.
This was stability.
This was a foothold.
He approached the group, and they all perked up at once.
"Boss," Simon said, "you need anythin' before we head out?"
"No," Caleb said gently. "Y'all did good today. Go on home."
A chorus of "Thank you, Caleb!" echoed before the workers dispersed one by one into the night, some walking toward the stable, some toward rented rooms or the outskirts of town.
Only Jasper stayed, locking the side door and checking the new ice crate for morning preparations was .
Caleb approached him once more.
"Tomorrow morning," he said softly, "we start a new chapter of this place."
Jasper grinned. "Can't wait."
Caleb nodded, locking the main door behind him, and stepped out into the cooling Valentine night, exhaling slowly as the last traces of cigarette smoke drifted away. The lamps along Main Street flickered with that familiar rhythm of wind and flame, the orange glow washing against the dirt road like a restless tide.
His restaurant's lights dimmed behind him as the final lanterns inside were snuffed by Jasper. The air smelled of dust, horses, tobacco, and the sharp bite of evening whiskey drifting from the saloon just up the way.
He adjusted his coat, rolled his shoulders once, and began walking.
The closer he got to the saloon, the louder the noise became, piano keys pounding in an uneven, upbeat rhythm, boots thumping against the wooden floorboards, men hollering, dice clattering across tables, and the unmistakable giggles of the working girls drifting through the batwing doors. The sound spilled out into the street like a river.
By the time he reached the porch, several patrons lounging out front immediately perked up.
"There he is!"
"Caleb! Back in town, are ya?"
"Good to see ya again, boy!"
A pair of working girls leaned against the railing, their eyes lighting up mischievously the moment they spotted him walking toward the steps.
"Well now," one of them said, brushing her fingers through her hair. "Look who's back. If you got time tonight, sugar—"
"—we wouldn't mind helpin' you unwind a bit," the other added with a teasing wink.
They smiled, playfully trying to get Caleb's attention, shoulders tilted, one even giving a teasing wink. Caleb, as always, subtly rejected the suggestions, gentle, respectful, the kind that didn't embarrass nor encourage.
"Evenin', ladies," he said with a small smile, tipping his head. "Good to see y'all."
"Aww, he's still as slippery as an eel," one giggled.
Another sighed dramatically, "One day, Caleb Thorne. One day you're gonna say yes."
"Maybe in the next life," Caleb joked softly, continuing up the steps.
They pouted playfully when they realized he wasn't taking the bait, Caleb never did, but they still giggled as he passed, calling half serious, half teasing invitations over their shoulders. He kept the interaction friendly yet distant, the subtle rejection smooth, practiced, and respectful.
He nodded to the regulars sitting outside, old Fred with his pipe, Lenny with the missing tooth, the pair of ranch hands who always played cards on the porch.
"Evenin'," Caleb greeted.
"Welcome back, Caleb," came the replies like a small chorus.
He stepped up onto the wooden porch, pushed through the batwing doors, and the whole chaotic warmth of the saloon hit him at once.
Music, laughter, boots stomping, spurs jingling, bodies moving, drinks sloshing, a dozen conversations overlaying in a dizzying wave. The raunchy piano tune, sharp and cheerful, echoed across the room as working girls weaved between patrons, leaning over shoulders, whispering promises, and delivering drinks.
The moment Caleb stepped inside, Mr. Douglas looked up from behind the counter. The saloon owner squinted, then broke into a huge grin.
"Well I'll be damned!" he said loudly. "Ah, the big hero finally returned to Valentine!"
Heads turned.
Voices rose.
Then—
"CALEB!"
"Welcome back!"
"Good to see ya, Hero of Valentine!"
A massive cheer erupted across the saloon, whistles joining the noise. Several patrons stood to raise their glasses toward him. A few girls clapped lightly, smiling wide. Some men thumped their fists on tables in greeting. The ruckus swept through the room in a wave so loud the piano player momentarily laughed and missed several keys.
Caleb laughed under his breath and raised both hands, palms out, stepping just inside the door as the greetings washed over him.
"Now hold on," he said jokingly, pointing at Douglas. "I didn't expect Mr. Douglas to put me on notice like this. Don't any of you go askin' me to pay for a round of drinks for all of you just 'cause I've returned to town!"
The saloon roared with laughter.
"Aww hell, there goes our plan already!" someone shouted.
"We didn't even get to try it!"
"Damn shame!"
Mr. Douglas wiped tears from his eyes from laughing too hard. "Well, I didn't have that in mind at first," he said, grinning like a fox, "now that is a tragedy. I should've thought of the plan first, Caleb. You robbed me of a golden scheme!"
More laughter erupted.
Caleb shook his head, grinning, and made his way through the crowd to the counter. The patrons slapped him on the back, raised their drinks toward him, or simply nodded respectfully as he passed.
He reached the bar and placed a 50 cent piece on the counter.
"Whiskey," he said.
Mr. Douglas snorted affectionately and reached under the counter for a clean shot glass. He grabbed a bottle from the shelf, uncorked it, and poured a generous measure.
"Here ya go."
Caleb took the glass, nodded in thanks, and downed it in one clean, practiced swallow. The burn slid all the way down his throat to settle warm in his belly.
"Been some time since we last talked proper," Caleb said, placing the empty glass down. "How's business treatin' you?"
Mr. Douglas began wiping a glass with a cloth, leaning in slightly, lowering his voice so only the two of them could hear. "Business is goin' damn good. Better than I've seen it in years. Valentine's been much livelier after you left, Caleb. Your restaurant brought half the territory marchin' into town wantin' those fancy burgers and fried potatoes."
Caleb huffed a quiet laugh.
"But," Mr. Douglas continued, "there's one thing givin' me a headache."
Caleb raised a brow. "Yeah? And what's that?"
Mr. Douglas grunted. "That cold water."
Caleb paused. "Cold water?"
"Yes that." Mr. Douglas clicked his tongue. "Ever since your fancy drink came out, half these fools are complainin' to me now, 'Douglas, why ain't you got cold beer? Douglas, why's the boy at the restaurant got cold drinks and you don't?' It's drivin' me insane."
Caleb chuckled, shaking his head. "If you want ice, I can buy more blocks for you. Jasper can talk to our ice man, tell him to double the load. Just gotta pay the price for it."
Douglas stopped mid wipe, thinking. Then slowly, his face brightened.
"Well I'll be. That's actually a damn good idea."
He pointed at Caleb. "You tell Jasper I want two blocks a day, maybe more once I see how quick they melt. I'll pay proper."
"Tomorrow," Caleb said. "I'll let him know."
Douglas clapped the counter. "Appreciate it."
Caleb spent the next hour talking with him about town happenings, trade caravans passing through, new rumors from Rhodes and Annesburg, and the constant ebb and flow of trouble that drifted along the heartlands. It was good conversation, simple, grounded, steady.
Eventually, someone shouted from the poker table.
"CAAAALEB! Get your ass over here, Valentine King of Poker! Let's see if you still got it!"
The nickname made several patrons cheer again.
Caleb smirked as he headed over.
The crowd gathered almost instantly, patrons surrounding the table three deep, waiting to see him play. The working girls leaned in over the shoulders of the players, eager to watch. Even the piano man played a slower tune to let the crowd focus.
Caleb sat, adjusted his sleeves, and let his Poker Skill Level 4 instincts settle in.
Four rounds.
Four clean wins.
He read bluffs like open books, spotted shaky hands, knew when to fold, when to push, when to pressure. His calm, unreadable expression unsettled half the men at the table, and the other half simply accepted their fate.
By the end of it, Caleb walked away with 163 dollars and 50 cents, a hefty sum for a night of cards and an easy reminder of why no one wanted to bet serious money against him unless they were feeling particularly suicidal.
When the final hand ended, the table erupted into cheers, groans, and laughter.
"That's our king!"
"I swear he sees through the damn cards!"
"He's possessed, I tell ya!"
Caleb raised his hands, laughing with them. "Don't go callin' me a sorcerer now. I just know how to read people." He said his goodbyes, shook a few hands, and made his way back toward the door.
...
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: 3,798 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: -