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Arthur laid it out, voice steady but edged with quiet frustration. "When we split up at the old cabin, you went one way with Dutch, Javier, and Charles, me and Caleb went back toward camp. On the ride back, Charles told me somethin'. Said from the looks of it Dutch shot first. Sheriff and deputy didn't even draw. And when I checked with Javier last night, he… confirmed it, more or less."
A long, heavy silence fell. Hosea stared at Arthur, his expression frozen somewhere between surprise and dread. He slowly lowered the cup, resting it on a rock beside him.
"Charles," Hosea said quietly, turning his head. "Is that true?"
Charles gave a firm, quiet nod. "It's true, Hosea. I saw it myself. Dutch was the only one who had his gun drawn. The sheriff and deputy gun wasn't drawn."
Hosea leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing as he exhaled long and slow. For a moment, the only sound was the wind rustling through the trees, the distant murmur of the camp, and the soft clink of Hosea's ring tapping against his cup.
"I… didn't know," Hosea murmured at last, voice low, almost to himself. "I was on the street, talking to folks, picking up news and gathering information about Micah's dead. When the shooting started, I ride to join Dutch and the boys, caught up halfway through as they were leaving the sheriff's office. On the ride back, Dutch and Javier didn't say a word about how it started."
He ran a hand over his face, a flicker of weariness seeping into his posture. "Damn it, Dutch…"
Arthur's jaw clenched. "Javier tried to say they must've goaded him. That Dutch wouldn't just shoot like that."
Hosea's lips thinned. "And you don't believe that."
It wasn't a question.
Arthur shook his head. "No. I don't."
Arthur face filled with frown, step closer. "You think he's losin' his grip, Hosea? You been with him longer than any of us, hell even before I was taken in by you two."
Hosea gave a hollow chuckle, shaking his head. "I don't know, Arthur. I've seen and hear Dutch talk himself outta more bad spots than I can count. But this… this feels different."
Caleb watched Hosea carefully. He could see the weight settling on the older man's shoulders, the flicker of doubt stirring behind his eyes. Hosea was the glue that kept this gang from falling apart outright, but even glue cracked under enough strain.
"We need a plan Hosea," Charles said quietly, arms folded across his chest. "We can't ignore this. Not anymore. Not after Blackwater and now this."
Hosea looked up sharply, his mouth tightening. "No, we can't." He rose slowly to his feet, brushing dust from his coat. "Arthur, Caleb, Charles, you three keep this to yourselves for now. Last thing we need is panic running through camp. Let me… think on this. See how Dutch moves next."
Arthur gave a short nod, though the tight line of his jaw didn't ease. Caleb caught the quick glance he flicked toward him, a silent agreement passing between them.
"Alright, Hosea," Arthur murmured. "But you know this can't stay quiet forever. The others will try to find out what happened sooner or later.."
"I know," Hosea said softly, eyes on the horizon. "Believe me, Arthur… I know."
The three men drifted away after that, leaving Hosea to his thoughts.
As they walked back toward camp, Caleb felt the restless knot in his stomach twist tighter. He'd seen this unraveling before in the game, Dutch's charm twisting into paranoia, Arthur's loyalty bending until it snapped, Hosea trying desperately to hold it all together until his death at Saint Denis.
But this wasn't the game. This was real.
Back near the horses, Caleb paused, running a hand over Morgan's mane, feeling the warmth of the animal under his fingers. Arthur leaned against the hitching post, watching him thoughtfully.
"You alright, Caleb?" Arthur asked, voice low.
Caleb lifted his eyes, a faint smirk tugging at his mouth. "I'm not the one I'm worried about."
Arthur gave a rough laugh. "Fair point."
Charles approached, rolling his shoulders. "I'm riding out later," he said. "Doing some hunting. I saw herd of bisons near the plains yesterday. We could get anything from them, I can show you two how to hunt one. It also help clear our heads. Wanna come?"
Arthur nodded, pushing off the post. "Good idea. Caleb, you in?"
Caleb hearing that gave a sharp nod, as it remembered him of Charles companion activity from when he plays the game. "Yeah. Count me in."
Hearing that, Charles gave a satisfied nod, his arms folding across his broad chest as a faint smile flickered at the corners of his mouth. "Good. Let me prepare several things. Meet me here at noon, we'll mount up and ride together toward the plains at Twin Stack Pass, west of camp."
Caleb and Arthur both gave small nods, the weight of their conversation with Hosea still pressing on their shoulders, though the promise of a good hunt offered some welcome distraction.
Caleb felt a faint tug in his chest, the tension of the morning, the anxiety curling in his gut over Dutch's unraveling decisions, all threatened to overwhelm him if he stayed too long in his own head.
Charles turned, walking away with measured, purposeful steps, his silhouette soon swallowed by the gentle bustle of the camp.
Arthur With that, his stomach evidently deciding breakfast took precedence over brooding. .
Arthur clapped Caleb on the shoulder. "Don't be late." He strode off toward Pearson's stew pot near Pearson's wagon, drawn by the promise of hot stew and coffee.
Caleb remained where he was, his fingers brushing gently over Morgan's mane, feeling the solid warmth of the horse beneath his palm, the quiet huff of her breath as she nudged his shoulder.
It was in this moment of stillness that a soft, familiar voice called out behind him.
"Caleb?"
Turning, Caleb's gaze landed on Mary-Beth. She approached with a notebook cradled in one hand and the delicate fountain pen Caleb had found for her clenched in the other.
Her cheeks were faintly pink, a small smile tugging at her lips as she came closer. The sunlight filtering through the trees caught in her hair, turning the golden strands into something almost ethereal. The faint pink in her cheeks made his pulse skip.
For a moment, Caleb found himself staring. His chest tightened unexpectedly.
"Good morning, Mary-Beth," he greeted, his voice softening without conscious thought. "Anything I can do for you?"
Mary-Beth's fingers tightened slightly around her notebook. She shifted her weight from foot to foot, the shyness in her posture endearing rather than awkward. "Well… since you're free right now, I was wondering…"
She bit her lower lip briefly, eyes glimmering with quiet excitement. "Could we maybe… continue the story? About Harry Potter? You left off at the Quidditch match, when Harry caught the snitch with his mouth."
Caleb's heart gave a small, almost embarrassing flip. The anticipation shining in her eyes, the way she leaned forward just slightly, notebook clutched like a lifeline, it stirred something inside him. Something warm. Something dangerous. Something real.
A grin tugged at his mouth despite himself. "Yeah, of course. We can pick up right where we left off." He tilted his head slightly. "You planning to continue write it all down? Help me tell it to Jack and the others?"
Mary-Beth nodded quickly, the movement sending a loose strand of hair slipping across her cheek. "I thought it'd be nice. You tell it so well, Caleb."
Caleb felt heat creep up his own neck, coughing lightly into his fist. "Well, lucky for me, I've got a good memory."
Together, they walked toward one of the logs near the scout campfire, tucked at the back of the wagons where the ladies' tents formed a kind of protective semicircle.
The smell of food cooking, the soft laughter of Tilly and Karen in the distance, the low murmur of Abigail scolding Jack over something or other, all of it wove together into the familiar tapestry of camp life.
They settled on the log, close but not quite touching. Caleb began to narrate, his voice slipping into an easy rhythm as he described the next part of Harry's journey, Harry's triumph at the Quidditch match, Hermione's cleverness with the Devil's Snare, Ron's chess mastery, and the mystery of the Sorcerer's Stone. Mary-Beth wrote with swift, sure strokes, occasionally glancing up with wide, delighted eyes.
Time melted away.
Caleb didn't know how long they'd been sitting there, but at some point, Mary-Beth's knee brushed against his, and neither of them pulled away. She was leaning in now, caught up in the excitement of the story, her pen scratching furiously against the page.
"And then," Caleb murmured, lowering his voice slightly for effect, "Harry, Ron, and Hermione realize the only way forward is to go through the trapdoor—"
Mary-Beth gave a quiet gasp, her hand darting to flip a page in her notebook. In her enthusiasm, she tipped too far forward, the log shifting slightly beneath her. She let out a soft, startled sound as her balance faltered—
Without thinking, Caleb reached out, his hand closing gently around her wrist to steady her.
The world seemed to narrow for a heartbeat.
Mary-Beth froze, her breath catching. Her fingers relaxed slightly under his touch, her wide eyes lifting to meet his. There was a faint flush creeping up her throat now, a tremor of something unspoken hovering in the air between them.
Caleb's own heart was pounding, his fingers tightening just slightly before he forced himself to let go, retreating as if burned.
"S-sorry," Mary-Beth whispered, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
Caleb gave a small, sheepish smile, rubbing at the back of his neck. "No, I… it's alright. Didn't want you tumbling into the fire."
For a moment, neither of them spoke, the soft sounds of camp life filling the space between them like a delicate thread. And then—
"Caleb! You ready?"
Charles' voice cut cleanly through the stillness, snapping the moment in half like a twig underfoot. Caleb turned, exhaling as he spotted Charles striding toward him, rifle slung over his shoulder. Behind him, Arthur waited by the horses, Morgan stamping a hoof against the dirt.
"Yeah," Caleb called back, pushing up from the log. His gaze flicked once more to Mary-Beth, who offered him a shy, lingering smile.
Caleb shoot Mary-Beth an apologetic glance."I'll, uh… see you later, Mary-Beth."
She nodded, closing her notebook carefully against her chest. "Be careful. We'll… continue sometime soon?"
"Count on it," Caleb promised.
Caleb turned, forcing his feet to carry him toward the horses, feeling a strange lightness and tightness battling inside his chest. As he approached, Charles gave him a knowing glance but didn't comment. Arthur just smirked faintly as he mounted up, giving Morgan's reins a tug.
"Got yourself an admirer, huh, Caleb?" Arthur drawled, eyebrow quirked.
"Oh shut up, Arthur," Caleb muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched despite himself.
Together, the three men rode west, the sun climbing higher in the sky, the trees thinning out as the landscape opened into the wide, rolling plains of Twin Stack Pass.
The wind picked up, tugging at coats and hats, carrying the faint scent of grass and earth and distant water as they reached there.
Charles led Caleb and Arthur off the main road to the left, guiding their horses onto a narrow game trail that snaked through the edge of the trees.
The morning sun hung just past its zenith now, casting long shafts of golden light through the canopy. The crisp air smelled of pine and distant water, and the faint creak of saddles and soft clop of hooves were the only sounds as they ascended a gradual hill.
When they reached the top, the trees gave way to a breathtaking expanse of open plains. Twin Stack Pass stretched out before them, a vast sweep of grassland dotted with low shrubs, its namesake stone spires jutting out of the earth like the jagged fingers of some ancient giant.
And there, grazing calmly in the distance, was a small herd of bison. Charles pulled his horse to a halt, raising a hand. "Look over there," he murmured, his voice carrying just enough over the wind. He gestured with a nod of his head. "You see them all? Incredible creatures, aren't they?"
________________________________
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 2)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 2)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
Money: 731 dollars and 61 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets