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"I'll be sending three trusted builders," Caleb said. "Their names will be George, Seth, and Elias. They are skilled builders and completely trustworthy. They will serve as your foremen for the labor crews. Rely on them."
Strauss adjusted his spectacles and nodded. "I understand, sir. I shall expect them. Have a safe journey. Thank you, Mr. Thorne. Safe travels back to Valentine."
Caleb stepped into the stagecoach, giving a final wave to Mayor Timmins and Cecil. The driver closed the door, climbed onto his seat, and with a flick of the reins, the horses lurched forward.
The journey back to Valentine began, the coach following the same winding path through Big Valley. The town of Strawberry gradually disappeared behind the trees, its future already shifting, quietly, irreversibly.
Inside the coach, Caleb leaned back against the seat, eyes half lidded as the rhythm of the road carried him forward. His mind, as always, worked several steps ahead, as the ride was a good time for reflection.
The lodge was his. The Marlin Thorne Firearms Company was his. He had over more than 200,000 dollsrs in liquid capital remaining in his inventory, a senator's favor, and a vault combination.
He had a fortified house for the gang rising outside on the west of Valentine and a restaurant printing money. He had effectively checkmated the Pinkerton threat to the gang, at least for now. And he had positioned himself as both a trusted lieutenant to Bronte and a hidden schemer against him.
It was a formidable position. But as the coach wound through the towering pines of Big Valley, Caleb's mind wasn't on past victories. It was on consolidation and the next moves.
At Strawberry, Strauss was capable, but the project was massive. He needed to get George, Seth, and Elias to Strawberry immediately with clear instructions.
They would need to hire local labor, source timber and stone, and begin the demolition of the old lodge interior. The Pelton wheel was a specialized piece of engineering, he'd need to commission it from a foundry in Saint Denis or, better yet, from the industrial might of the Marlin Thorne company itself.
That was a satisfying circularity, using his firearms factory to build parts for his luxury hotel.
At Valentine, the house should have been finished or at least some finishing touch was being done. It would be his real home, and also s afehaven for the gang, where he could begin to also offer them do jobs for his business if they wanted. He also needed to check on the restaurant's expansion plans.
Perhaps a dedicated ice cream parlor next in the list? It was a small thing, but it built local goodwill and revenue, separating it from his fats food restaurant and could become like some sort of a dessert shop in the future as well.
As for Saint Denis, the conflict was simmering. Bronte would be hunting Smeets, the broker at the Green Turtle. Caleb needed to know what was found. More importantly, he needed to read Milton's files that he gotten from the safety deposit box.
That blackmail material was a weapon of immense power, but it needed to be organized, understood, and deployed with surgical precision. He couldn't do that in Valentine, he needed a secure, private place to study it. The house might work, or perhaps out in the wilderness around Valentine.
The coach emerged from the forests onto the open plains of the Heartlands, the familiar, gentle landscape a contrast to the dramatic valleys behind him.
Caleb leaned forward and rapped twice against the inner wall of the coach.
"Driver," he called out, raising his voice just enough to carry through the small window.
The reins slowed a fraction as the driver leaned back slightly. "Yes, sir?"
"Take the northern main road," Caleb said. "We'll enter Valentine through the western roads. Before that, there's a farmstead being built along the way. I want you to stop there and wait for me. Just a moment."
The driver hesitated only a heartbeat before answering, professional tone intact. "Of course, sir."
Caleb continued, voice calm, deliberate. "I'll give you fifty dollars for the trouble. And for keeping your mouth shut about anything you might see."
That did it.
The driver smiled, broad and honest, the kind of smile a working man only ever wore when fate suddenly decided to be kind. "Say no more, sir. Whatever you need done, I'll do. And whatever I see, I won't remember."
Inwardly, he was already celebrating. Fifty dollars for silence was the easiest money a man like him could ever earn.
Caleb nodded once, satisfied, and leaned back again, watching the land slide past the window as the coach subtly changed direction.
Inside, the steady rhythm of the wheels returned, but the scenery outside the window began to shift. The road curved northward, cutting through familiar Heartlands territory. The plains stretched wide and open, grass rolling like waves beneath the wind, the sky vast and unbroken.
They passed the Downes Ranch not long after, the sight drawing his attention without effort.
It was… different.
Healthier.
The farmhouse stood straighter, repaired boards catching the sunlight. The fields were green and full, not the sickly, neglected plots he remembered from the game.
There were cows in the pasture, actual livestock, healthy and calm, and near the crops, He saw a woman who had to be Edith, moving through the field with steady purpose instead of hollow desperation. A teenage boy, Archie, help alongside her, laughing as he do some work on the field. They were alive in the way that mattered. Not merely breathing, but living.
And near the edge of the fields, a simple tombstone. Caleb didn't need to read the inscription to know whose grave it was.
Thomas Downes.
Dead as he was always meant to be, tuberculosis claiming him in the end, but not before things had changed.
Caleb watched quietly as the coach rolled by.
He remembered the man, earnest to the point of self destruction, convinced that moral righteousness alone could bend a cruel world into kindness. A man whose stubborn goodness had, in another timeline, doomed his own family to misery.
But not here.
Caleb nodded once, almost imperceptibly.
At least this time, the man who had wrapped himself in righteousness and paid for it with his family's suffering had managed to change before the end.
He had swallowed his pride, taken his advice and help, and spared his famiky a lifetime of misery. It wasn't redemption in the grand, poetic sense, but it was something far rarer in this world, a quiet, practical mercy that actually worked.
The ranch faded behind them, and not long after, the driver slowed again.
"There it is, sir," he said, gesturing with his chin.
The stagecoach rolled to a stop beside the new construction.
Caleb stepped down, boots crunching against packed earth, and took in the sight before him.
The barn stood completed, sturdy and well built, its wide doors reinforced and practical. The three story homestead rose nearby, solid and imposing without being ostentatious. Fresh timber still carried the scent of sap and sawdust. A wooden fence enclosed the perimeter, clean lines marking ownership and security.
There were pens, good sized ones, clearly intended for future livestock. And beyond them, an open stretch of land had already been cleared, ready to be planted when the time came.
It wasn't just a hideout.
It was a homestead. A base. A future.
Caleb felt a deep, quiet satisfaction settle in his chest.
"Looks like home," he murmured.
From near the front of the house, three familiar figures were gathered, counting out money and handing it to the last of the hired workers.
"Well, I'll be damned! Speak of the devil and he appears in a fancy carriage! Boss!" He waved, his voice booming across the yard. "You got some kind of sixth sense? We just hammered the last nail not two hours ago!"
Caleb chuckled as he walked toward them. "Just passing by," he said easily. "Didn't expect it all to be done already."
"Done and solid," Elias added, grinning. "Didn't cut corners."
Caleb stopped in front of them and turned slightly to address the workers. "You all did excellent work. I mean that. You're paid in full, and if I need more hands in the future, I'll remember who built this place."
The men murmured their thanks, visibly pleased.
Elias looked Caleb up and down, eyes narrowing slightly before he laughed. "Look at you, boss. All dressed fancy. Where you comin' from, huh? Saint Denis rubbin' shoulders with bankers?"
"Another town," Caleb replied with a faint smile. "Actually… since you three are done here, I've got another job for you. Starts tomorrow."
That got their attention.
George, Elias, and Seth exchanged looks.
George whistled low. "Another one already?"
Seth nodded toward the workers. "Guess that means we're done here, boys."
He raised his voice. "Alright! You lot are free to head home. Job's finished."
The workers didn't argue. They mounted their horses, waved, and soon rode off, leaving the area quiet save for the wind and the distant lowing of cattle.
Once they were alone, Seth turned back to Caleb. "So. What's the job, boss? And where?"
Caleb didn't answer immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the house. "Walk with me."
They moved a few steps, boots crunching against gravel.
"The town is Strawberry. Up in Big Valley." Caleb said.
All three stopped.
"Strawberry?" Seth grunted. "That little postage stamp in the mountains? What's there?"
Caleb nodded. "I bought the fialing lodge there."
That earned him three different reactions at once.
George let out another whistle, longer this time. "You bought the lodge?"
Seth blinked. "You serious, boss?"
Elias just laughed. "Boss, that's a hell of a move."
Caleb continued calmly. "I'm turning it into a luxury hotel. Your job is to run the construction. You'll be the foremen. You'll hire local labor from Strawberry, manage the day to day build, source materials."
He paused, then added, "You'll be taking orders from my man on the ground, a German fellow named Leopold Strauss. He's my accountant and will handle the money, the suppliers, the paperwork. You handle the men, the tools, the building. He's sharp, meticulous, and completely trustworthy. You answer to him as you would to me."
George stared at him. "That's… that's a pretty big job, boss."
"That's why I want you three handling it," Caleb said.
Elias nodded slowly. "Alright. Sounds clean enough."
George nodded his head. "What's the timetable, boss?"
"Immediate. Demolition of the old interior starts as soon as you get there. Strauss has the architectural plans. The vision is… significant. Three stories, modern amenities, a waterwheel for electricity."
Elias's eyebrows shot up. "Electricity? Out there?"
"That's the idea. It'll be the draw." Caleb looked at each of them. "This isn't a hideout. This is a legitimate, high profile business. Discretion is still key, I don't want my name shouted from the rooftops, but the work is out in the open. What happens in Strawberry stays in Strawberry. You answer to Strauss while you're there. And you answer to me. Can you handle that?"
Seth spat a stream of tobacco juice into the dust. "Boss, after buildin' a secret homesetad, buildin' a fancy public hotel sounds like a good job to passed on. We're in."
"Good." Caleb reached into his satchel and, from his inventory, produced a thick stack of bills.
He counted out 1,500 dollars, three piles of five hundred. He handed one to each man. "This is your advance for the Strawberry job. A show of good faith. Your regular wages will continue on top of this, paid by Strauss weekly. Be at Strawberry at first light tomorrow. Strauss is expecting you. He's at the Welcome Center Lodge. You can't miss it."
The three men stared at the money in their hands, then at Caleb, then at each other. Five hundred dollars each, just as an advance, for a job that hadn't even started. It was a king's ransom for men used to day wages.
...
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 8/10
- Agility: 8/10
- Perception: 9/10
- Stamina: 8/10
- Charm: 8/10
- Luck: 9/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl MAX)
- Rifle (Lvl MAX)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl MAX)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl MAX)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 2)
- Sneaking (Lvl MAX)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl MAX)
- Poker (Lvl MAX)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl MAX)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 2)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 4)
- Bow (Lvl 3)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 4)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 3)
- Crafting (Lvl MAX)
- Persuasion (Lvl MAX)
- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl MAX)
- Teaching (Lvl 3)
- Trilingual Language Proficiency - G, I, & C (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 10x10x10)
- Acting (Lvl MAX)
- Alcohol Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Treasure Hunter (Lvl MAX)
- Drugs Resistance (Lvl MAX)
- Business (Lvl 1)
- Leadership (Lvl 1)
Money: 3,465 dollars and 60 cents
Inventory: 250,392 dollars and 61 cents, 11 gold nuggets, 65 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, 1 Braithwaites Land Deed, 1 Broken Pirate Sword, 1 Milton's Safety Deposit Key, 1 Senator Pendleton Sealed Envelope, & Proof Of Marlin-Thorne Firearms Co.
Bank: -