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Jasper took another spoonful, shaking his head in disbelief. "People are gonna lose their MINDS over this. You're gonna make a fortune. A fortune!"
"Help me pour it," Caleb said, still amused.
They carefully tipped the canister, letting the ice cream slide into the wooden tub. Together, they packed it down neatly before placing the lid on top.
Carrying it together, they put the tub inside the ice shed so it wouldn't melt.
The moment the door shut, the two of them just stood there, breathing in cold air, grinning like idiots.
They had done it.
Ice cream existed.
And the world or at least Valentine, for now, had no idea what was coming.
The restaurant opened soon after. The morning rush wasn't as violent as midday, but steady. Mickey called out orders, Jessie ran bowls to the tables, and Nora managed the counter with her reliable calm. Caleb oversaw the flow, making small adjustments, checking the inventory, and quietly thinking about what would come next.
Ice cream was a breakthrough but only the foundation.
Drinks. Desserts. Breads with new textures. A menu that would pull in ranch hands, travelers, families, even gamblers from the saloon.
And eventually, Saint Denis.
A presence there meant influence. Influence meant power. Power meant he could change things, not just for himself, but for the gang.
For Arthur.
For Mary-Beth.
For the ones who might die if nothing changed.
After the breakfast wave, he returned to the back of the restaurant and checked the ice shed again. The ice cream was holding up beautifully. Firm. Cold. Ready.
Caleb then gave each of the staff a small sample, tiny portions, just enough for them to taste but not enough to cut into the stock needed for the debut.
Every reaction was the same:
Shock. Delight. Disbelief.
Jessie actually smacked the counter and yelled, "THIS'LL PUT SAINT DENIS TO SHAME!"
Nora declared she might cry because it was "so cold and yet so beautiful."
Seeing this good reactions, Caleb feel even more confident.
"Jasper," Caleb called.
"Yes, boss?"
"Let's prep small bowls. We're gonna give out samples today."
Jasper practically vibrated. "For free?"
"For free. And trust me, they'll come back wantin' more."
They set up a small sample station inside, just a few bowls on a tray near the counter. And sure enough, curiosity spread through the customers like wildfire.
"What's that?"
"What's he makin'?"
"You say this is… frozen milk?"
Jessie handed the first bowl to an elderly ranch hand. He took one bite and made a sound that made everyone else lean forward.
Within minutes, the entire tray was empty.
Nora looked around in disbelief. "Caleb… they're gonna riot if we don't have more."
Caleb laughed. "We've got more."
By noon, Tommy had crafted a simple menu board with chalk, ice cream being sold 30 cents for a scoop.
Jasper nearly fainted.
"Boss— THIRTY cents? That's robbery!"
"People'll pay it," Caleb said simply.
By mid afternoon, the line stretched out the door.
Ranch hands. Miners. Hotel guests. Railroad workers. Even a few well dressed travelers off the afternoon train.
All wanting a scoop. All marveling at the cold, sweet wonder. All talking, whispering, shouting about the restaurant that served miracle snow.
Jasper was running between tables like a man possessed.
Jessie had to threaten three grown cowboys for trying to cut in line.
Nora slammed a spoon onto a table and demanded, "PATIENTLY WAIT YOUR TURN LIKE EVERYONE ELSE!"
By evening, people were coming from around Valentine because they'd heard rumors that a strange new dessert was being served here.
Later that night, after closing, Caleb sat alone on one of the tables, replaying the day.
Jasper wiped counters with a grin so wide it practically split his face.
"We did it, boss. We really did it. And if this is just the first new menu you make after quite a while…"
Caleb leaned back, hands behind him. "There's more comin', Jasper. Plenty more."
The night air outside the restaurant was cool, the kind of cool that settled into the clothes and made the day's exhaustion feel just a little easier to carry. Caleb locked the front door, sliding the bolt into place, and Jasper stretched his arms above his head with a groan.
"Boss," Jasper said, still sounding half in disbelief, "I ain't never seen nothin' like today. We're gonna be talkin' about this one for years."
Caleb chuckled lightly. "That's the plan."
They stepped onto the boardwalk, the lamps casting long shadows behind them as they headed toward the hotel. The town was quieter now, the hustle of the day replaced with the tired peace of evening. A dog barked somewhere by the stables. The blacksmith's forge had gone cold. A few stragglers drifted across the street from the saloon, laughing too loud, swaying too much.
Halfway to the hotel, Caleb slowed his pace just enough to catch Jasper's attention.
"Oh, by the way," he began casually, "tomorrow morning I'll need you to take out my share. All of it. From the bank."
Jasper stopped walking completely.
"All of it?" he repeated, eyebrows climbing. "Boss, Caleb, are you serious? That's… that's a LOT of money. Like, several thousand dollars a lot. Where're you even plannin' on puttin' that? You ain't haulin' two crates of cash around town like it's spare potatoes."
Caleb let out a low laugh. "Don't worry about where I'm gonna store it. Let me worry about that."
Jasper stared for another moment, then blew out a long sigh and shrugged. "Whatever you want, boss. If you need help movin' it, or hell, if you need someone to watch your back when you're carryin' it, you just tell me."
Caleb nodded, appreciating the concern. "I'll keep that in mind."
They reached the hotel entrance, warm lantern light spilling out from the lobby window. They walked up the stairs together, then parted ways at the top, Caleb to the right, Jasper to the left.
"Night, boss," Jasper said.
"Night."
Inside his room, Caleb unbuckled his gun belt and draped it over the chair. His hat went on the second hook. His boots thudded softly onto the floor as he removed them. The bed welcomed him like an old friend, and he laid back with a tired but satisfied sigh.
Ice cream had sold out.
Tomorrow he'd make another batch before heading out of town. After receiving the money. After securing it. After preparing for what came next.
The Braithwaite Manor. The burnt ruin. The gold bar that either Arthur or John would normally take in the game.
Another resource secured before the timeline could shift unexpectedly.
His thoughts drifted, blurred, and soon sleep took him.
Sunlight pushed through the curtains in thin, soft stripes. Caleb woke with that familiar mix of alertness and purpose, driven by the knowledge of what needed to be done today. He washed quickly, strapped on his gun belt, pulled on his boots, then placed his hat firmly on his head.
He locked his door and stepped out into the bright morning.
First task, make today's ice cream batch.
He headed around the back of the restaurant. The morning cold nipped at his nose, but he ignored it as he hauled out the wooden tub, the metal canister, the wooden tools, and the other equipment. This time he was working alone, which meant two full hours of nonstop labor, cracking ice blocks, smashing them to pieces, pouring milk, adding sugar and salt, securing the canister, spinning it again and again until his shoulders burned.
Caleb worked methodically, sweat beading on his forehead despite the cold.
Ice cracked beneath his mallet.
Milk sloshed richly into the canister.
Salt hissed against the ice.
His arms strained as he spun the canister over and over, hearing the mixture thicken slowly inside.
He checked it twice, once early, when it was still too liquid, and again later, when the mixture had begun to resist the spoon. Finally, when he opened the lid the third time, he saw the transformation complete. Smooth, thick, frozen.
Perfect.
He packed the ice cream into the tub and carried it to the ice shed, sealing it tight so it wouldn't melt. Then he wiped the sweat from his brow and headed inside the restaurant.
Jasper was already there, along with Mickey, Jessie, Nora, Tommy, Troy, and Simon. The smell of bread, broth, and fresh vegetables already filled the room.
"Boss!" Jasper called out with a grin. "Here it is, just like you wanted."
He patted two lockboxes sitting on the table in the resting area. Heavy. Sturdy. Filled to the brim.
Caleb grinned. "Good work."
He picked up the lockboxes, one in each hand, feeling the combined weight that would normally strain a man's grip. But Caleb felt nothing but a welcome heaviness, a promise of possibility.
"My time here in Valentine's done," he said simply. "Got other business to take care of."
The words hit the crew like a sudden shock.
"You're leavin' already?" Jasper asked, eyes wide.
Caleb nodded. "Don't worry. I'll be back to check on things. And everything will run just fine without me."
Jasper swallowed, then nodded firmly. "Safe travels, boss."
The others echoed him.
Caleb gave them all a short nod, then walked to the hotel with the lockboxes under his arms. He stepped inside his room and set them on the bed. When he opened the lids, he saw the wealth inside, dollar bills stacked and folded, coins glinting in little piles.
Several thousands of dollars.
More money than most men saw in five lifetimes.
He hovered his hands above the boxes and willed the money into his inventory.
A faint pulse of warmth passed through him, and the lockboxes emptied instantly, as though the cash had evaporated into thin air.
He checked his system panel.
An increase of 7,472 dollars and 89 cents.
A slow whistle escaped him.
He closed the panel, left the empty lockboxes in the room, and walked outside the hotel.
Morgan waited there, stamping her hooves lightly. When she saw him, she swished her tail and snorted.
"There you are, girl," Caleb murmured, patting her neck. "Got a trip ahead of us."
He flicked the reins, and Morgan surged forward, leaving Valentine behind as they headed toward the state of Lemoyne and the ruins of Braithwaite Manor.
The land slowly changed as they crossed the border. Green fields and humid air replaced the drier northern winds. The smell of bayou, swamps, and distant gunpowder lingered in the wind. Lemoyne always held a certain tension, a simmering danger under its beautiful surface.
As they rode, Caleb replayed the events he knew from the game, navigating them like a map etched into his mind.
The Braithwaite Manor ruins.
The lootable gold bar near the wreckage.
The danger lurking in Lemoyne.
The opportunity to get in and out before anyone noticed.
He guided Morgan carefully through back roads, avoiding patrols, avoiding trouble. His reputation in this world was growing whether he wanted it to or not. It was best not to stir unnecessary chaos.
Some time passed.
Morgan's hooves clattered across narrow bridges, splashed through shallow marsh water, and trotted along the dirt paths that curved toward the Braithwaite estate.
Birds cawed overhead.
The air grew heavier. More humid.
Then the burnt skeleton of the mansion came into view.
Vines draped over charred beams. The ground was littered with cracked foundation stones, splintered wood, and remnants of what had once been opulence. Smoke no longer rose from it, but the ghost of the fire seemed to linger all the same.
Caleb slowed the horse and dismounted.
"Stay here, girl," he whispered, tying Morgan loosely to a tree. He walked toward the ruin. The echo of his boots was muffled by ash and damp earth. Sunlight filtered through blackened beams and shattered columns. Everything lay silent except for the occasional chirp of distant insects, he stepped inside.
...
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: 112,142 dollars and 61 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: -