"Mister! Can ya help me get to Valentine? I'll pay ya!" Cain, on his way back home, blinked at the middle-aged man waving frantically at him from the side of the road. The man looked harmless enough, worn clothes, weathered skin, and a gait that suggested hard years, but his voice carried urgency.
"I'll give you the money right now if you help me!" the man added, pulling a crumpled ten-dollar bill from his coat and holding it up.
Cain's eyes flicked to the bill. Ten dollars was no small sum. Without hesitation, he grabbed it, patting the empty space behind him. "Hop on, mister."
"Oh, thank you so much!" the man said with a warm grin as he swung up behind Cain. They started riding toward Valentine, the soft creak of Mabel's saddle the only sound aside from the horse's hooves.
"You a bounty hunter, mister?" the man asked after a while.
Cain glanced over his shoulder. "What makes you say that?"
"Well," the man said, pointing to Cain's rifle slung across the saddle, "you got the looks for it, and you definitely got the guns."
Cain chuckled softly. "So I got the looks for it, huh…" He glanced at his reflection in the polished metal of the rifle. His black hair had grown longer since arriving here, his neatly shaved goatee giving him a sharp but rugged appearance.
"Oh you sure do. You know, sir..." the man began again, "I used to want to be a bounty hunter, or maybe even a sheriff. Back when I was young, I wanted glory, wanted to shoot guns like Landon Ricketts." He paused, his voice softer now. "I even did it for a spell. Got recognition… got enemies too...."
Cain listened quietly as the man spoke, the rhythmic thud of hooves filling the silence.
"But now," the man continued, "I'm just content being a humble trader. Got myself a little house, a farm, a wife and kids. Nothing fancy, but it's enough. You settle down someday, mister, you'll see, it's the quiet that matters in the end."
Cain nodded faintly, staring ahead at the dust-choked road toward Valentine. Somewhere deep down, he wondered if, someday, he would want that quiet too.
"What happened to you, mister? You kinda smell like gunpowder. You get into a fight before this?" the man asked, glancing at Cain.
"Uh… kinda," Cain admitted. "I had to deal with some bandits disturbing the peace."
"Ah… well, seems like you handled it. Though they didn't go without leaving their mark on ya…" The man's gaze lingered on the graze wound on Cain's cheek. "That's gonna last until you go six feet under."
Cain gave a small smirk. "Well, sir… I've been told near-death experiences are just part of the job." His tone was half-sarcastic, half-resigned.
The man chuckled softly. "That they are. Every time I get out of a fight, I thank the Lord he lets me breathe for another day. You know, I used to be torn on whether to keep on bounty hunting or hang up my hat for good. Prayed for a sign every single day… then I met my woman at that one street at Saint Denis. Decision was made right then and there."
"That's sweet," Cain said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips.
The man laughed softly. "Thank you. But some folks… they call that cowardice."
Cain shook his head firmly. "Don't listen to them, mister. Those people… they don't understand the weight of being a husband, a father, a business owner. You should be proud of yourself, not ashamed."
The man nodded slowly. "Well… I didn't say I was ashamed. But yeah… you're right."
They rode in silence the rest of the way, the quiet only broken by the occasional creak of Mabel's saddle and the faint sound of hooves against dirt. Valentine came into view sooner than Cain expected.
Dropping the man off near the general store, Cain tipped his hat in farewell before guiding Mabel toward the sheriff's office.
"Sheriff Malloy," Cain greeted as he approached.
Malloy looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow. "Cain, you're back so soon?"
Cain shrugged. "Those lot weren't that hard to find." He pulled several bloodied masks from his bag and laid them on the sheriff's desk. "They won't be botherin' passersby no more."
Malloy whistled low, leaning forward. "Well, I'll be damned. Good work, son. Maybe there's a future for you in bounty hunting yet. You'll get your pay in a couple of hours. Come by around seven, and you'll be eighty dollars richer."
Cain nodded. "Thank you, sheriff. Good day to you." He turned to leave.
Malloy called after him, voice quiet but deliberate. "How does the taste of almost dyin' feel?"
Cain froze mid-step, hand lingering on the reins. He glanced back, locking eyes with Malloy. There was a weight to the sheriff's look, something more than idle curiosity.
"Well… it don't feel good, obviously," Cain said slowly. "It'll sting for days. But if it keeps more folks from dyin', I reckon it's a fair trade."
Malloy smirked faintly. "Looks like you know the weight of sacrifice… even if it's just a little."
Cain gave a small nod, a shadow crossing his face. Without another word, he turned Mabel toward the stable, the question still hanging in the air.
(Money:$230)
.....
Cain decided to treat himself to a small meal, marking his first successful mission. It wasn't anything grand, just a simple bowl of stew that cost fifty cents, but it felt worth every penny.
Afterward, he headed back to his room and took a short nap. When he woke, the sun was dipping low, painting Valentine in a dusty orange glow. Checking his pocket watch, Cain rose, straightened his coat, and made his way toward the sheriff's office.
When he arrived, Sheriff Malloy was standing by the window, eyes narrowed, watching someone outside. The tension in his face was unmistakable.
"Sheriff Malloy," Cain greeted.
Malloy glanced over, forcing a nod before handing him the promised eighty dollars, almost too quickly.
"You alright?" Cain asked, noticing the man's unease.
Malloy's gaze flicked past him toward the street. "Every day, that lawman of mine walks off somewhere on his own. Different times, same direction. Watch this, he's about to turn right and head behind the doctor's office."
Cain turned to look, and sure enough, the lawman did exactly as Malloy said.
Cain's brows furrowed. He remembered something like this from the game. But this was no console, no scripted event.
"My guess," Cain said slowly, eyes narrowing, "is there's something shady going on."
"Would you do me a favor and check it out, son?" Malloy asked, already pulling a ten-dollar bill from his coat pocket.
Cain blinked at the offer, then sighed and took it. "Guess I don't have much of a choice, huh?"
Malloy gave a weary half-smile. "If you get caught, just say you took a wrong turn. Folks around here believe that easy enough."
Cain tucked the bill into his vest pocket and started for the door. "Alright then," he muttered, pushing his hat a little lower over his eyes.
As he stepped out into the fading evening light, he waved back without looking.
"I'll let you know what I find."
To be continued.....
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