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At this time, Mary-Beth suddenly looked up, her pen pausing as she sensed his presence. For a brief moment, their eyes locked, and Caleb saw her cheeks flush pink. Unlike when Dutch or Micah watched her, however, her discomfort quickly faded into a shy smile when she recognized it was Caleb. There was something different in how he looked at her, with appreciation rather than possession, something she notice since they shared a dance.
Caleb's own face burned when he realized he'd been caught staring. He nearly choked on his stew, quickly swallowing before offering an awkward greeting. "H-hello Miss Gaskill," he stammered, gesturing vaguely toward the darkening sky. "It's a good evening tonight isn't it? Stars are shining, haha..."
Mary-Beth's musical laughter rang out as she gently closed her journal. "Mr. Thorne," she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement at his reaction, "while it is a beautiful evening, the stars haven't shown themselves yet. Are you feeling okay?"
Caleb's ears turned crimson. He let out a self deprecating chuckle and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well yes, but I'm sure the stars will be beautiful tonight when they do appear sometime soon," he recovered weakly before quickly changing the subject. "By the way, what are you doing Miss Gaskill?"
Mary-Beth chuckle a bit and decide to took pity on him, gracefully allowing the topic shift. She held up her journal with a wistful smile. "Oh, I was just writing. I love to write, you see. Sometimes I hear the most beautiful words in my head, but when I put them to paper..." She made a comically disappointed face. "They turn absolutely poppycock! But I love it all the same."
At her words, Caleb's memory skill activated, recalling Mary-Beth's companion quest from the game where she longed for a proper fountain pen. The opportunity to connect with her and potentially complete that quest sent a thrill through him, a thrill that confuse and excites him at the same time.
"That's a wonderful hobby, Mary-Beth," he said sincerely and becoming more easygoing dropping the family name calling, stepping closer. "Writing is such a great way to relieve stress. Are you dreaming of becoming a writer one day?"
Mary-Beth's eyes widened in surprise, her pen slipping from her fingers. It was rare anyone in camp took her aspirations seriously. "Yes!" she exclaimed, her voice hushed with excitement. "I dream of becoming a writer, having a beautiful fountain pen and a quiet room where I can write the most wonderful stories."
Caleb nodded enthusiastically. "I believe you'll achieve those dreams, Mary-Beth. I'd love to read the stories you write one day, I've always enjoyed a good tale." He hesitated before adding, "I may not know how to find you a quiet room, but I can certainly keep an eye out for a fountain pen if you'd like?"
Mary-Beth's hands flew to her mouth, her eyes shimmering in the lantern light. "Oh, Caleb! That's... that's so kind of you!" Her genuine delight made Caleb's heart skip a beat. "I've been using this dreadful pencil that keeps breaking. A proper fountain pen would be..." She sighed dreamily. "Well, it would be just wonderful."
"I'll make it my mission then," Caleb promised with a playful bow that made her giggle again. "Though I should warn you, my handwriting is a bit atrocious, so in return you'll have to teach me how to use one properly when I find it."
Mary-Beth agrees amidst her laughter at Caleb's antics, but it. was cut short by a gruff voice behind them. "What's this? Our new boy tryin' to charm our Mary-Beth?"
Caleb turned to see Bill Williamson lumbering toward them, a bottle of whiskey in hand. His beady eyes shows signs of a bit drunk as it darted between them suspiciously.
"Just discussing literature, Mr. Williamson," Caleb said smoothly, though his grip tightened on his bowl. "Miss Gaskill was telling me about her writing and dreams of becoming a writer."
Bill snorted, taking a swig from his bottle. "Writin'? What good's that gonna do out here?" He leered at Mary-Beth. "Ain't you got better things to do, girl? Like helpin' around camp?"
Mary-Beth shrank back slightly, but Caleb stepped between them. "Actually, storytelling is an important tradition. Why, I bet even you've enjoyed a good tale around the campfire, Bill."
Bill's face twisted in confusion, caught off guard by Caleb's response. "Well... I mean... yeah, but-"
"Exactly!" Caleb clapped him on the shoulder with just enough force to make Bill stumble, who not realizing it was due to him feeling tipsy or due to Caleb that he stumble. "And who better to record our gang's adventures than someone with Miss Gaskill's talents? Why, I'm sure that even Dutch would probably appreciate having our exploits documented properly."
The mention of Dutch's approval made Bill hesitate and began to think it over. "Well... when you put it that way..."
Mary-Beth shot Caleb a grateful look before standing. "I should go help Tilly with the suppers cleanup," she murmured, tucking her journal under her arm. "Thank you for the lovely conversation, Mr. Thorne."
Caleb tipped his hat. "The pleasure was mine, Miss Gaskill. I'll let you know about that pen."
As Mary-Beth hurried away, Bill rounded on Caleb. "You best watch yourself, new boy. Don't think that Dutch accepts you to the gang, you can do anything, We don't take kindly to-"
"To what? Polite conversation?" Caleb interrupted, his voice dropping to a stoic calmness. "Or is there some rule in the gang against being civil to our fellow members I'm unaware of?"
Bill opened his mouth, then closed it again, his face turning red. With a final grunt, he stomped off toward the campfire where Uncle was holding court with another tall tale.
Caleb exhaled slowly, watching Bill retreat. That could have gone worse. He'd need to be careful, making enemies in camp wouldn't help his situation, especially with someone like Bill who was hot tempered and always look for Dutch's approval. Still, seeing Mary-Beth's delighted expression had been worth it.
He finished his stew in thoughtful silence, mentally adding "find fountain pen" to his growing list of tasks. Tomorrow he'd donate the share of money he prepared to the lockbox, then ride to Emerald Ranch to sell his loot and visit the fence, Seamus, while also look into the livestock rustling there as well.
Also, maybe he could find Mary-Beth's pen there, because his memory skill had made him remember that he found the fountain pen inside a cabin, where it's location was to the southeast of Emerald ranch inside an cabin.
After that Caleb slept fitfully on his bedroll, the hard ground combined with the combat activity yesterday leaving his muscles stiff by dawn. As the first light filtered through the trees, he groaned and stretched, rolling his shoulders to ease the soreness.
Determined to stay in shape, he pushed himself up and began a rigorous routine, fifty push-ups, fifty sit ups, and a series of stretches to loosen his limbs. Then, he jogged laps around the perimeter of Horseshoe Overlook, his breath forming mist in the crisp morning air.
The gang members, just beginning to stir, watched with mixed reactions. The first was Charles Smith who paused while sharpening his knife, nodding approvingly. The second one was Javier that smirked and called out, "Oye, nuevo! You training to outrun the law or just showing off?"
The third one was Bill, whom nursing a hangover, spat on the ground. "Ain't no need for that fancy exercise. Real men work with their hands." And lastly, Karen, who was leaning against a wagon, whistled. "Damn, Thorne. If you keep that up, you might give Arthur a run for his money."
Ignoring the comments, Caleb finished with a final sprint before heading to Arthur's tent. He retrieved the 30 dollars he'd set aside and dropped it into the gang's lockbox. Pearson grunted in acknowledgment as Caleb passed by and washed up at the water barrels behind the supply wagon, scrubbing away sweat and dirt.
After changing into clean clothes, freshly laundered by Tilly and Mary-Beth, he strapped on his double barreled shotgun and holstered his Schofield revolver.
As he walked toward Morgan, which was hitched on the hitching post on the entrance of the camp, he spotted Dutch near his tent, sipping coffee while looking out on the horizon.
"Morning, Dutch," Caleb greeted.
Dutch turned, his charismatic smile in place. "Ah, good morning, son. You're up early."
"Figured I'd ride out today and leaving the camp for a while," Caleb said. "Scout for leads, maybe show my face in Valentine and keeping up appearances, to keep my reputation solid there."
Dutch chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "You didn't have to tell me, but I appreciate it. Hell, the rest of these boys could learn a thing or two from your attitude."
Caleb chuckled. "If everyone acted like me, you'd be bored out of your mind here in camp, Dutch."
Dutch laugh heartily when he hear it. "True, very true! Lord knows what I'd do if they all acted like you or old Hosea, I'd lose my damn mind. Well, go on, then. Don't let me keep you, do what you need to."
With a nod, Caleb strode to Morgan, who whinnied eagerly at his approach. "Hey, girl," he murmured, feeding her an apple and a carrot before brushing her coat. After a final pat, he mounted up and rode out of camp.
He guided Morgan out of camp, trotting through the dense trees before breaking into an open gallop once they hit the road. Activating his map function, he noted the areas he had already explored previously, the Twin Stack Passand the Heartland Oil Fields.
Emerald Ranch, he remembered from his Past Life Memory skill., lay further east. The ride took about an hour, the landscape shifting from the woodland area around camp to open plains. Soon, the large red and green door barn that for him iconic to Emerald Ranch came into view, exactly as he recalled from the game.
To the right of the barn stood Seamus's makeshift fence operation, a simple table made of crates, a wooden box, and a lantern. Caleb hitched Morgan to a hitching post across the road from the barn and approached as the fence eyed him warily as Caleb leaned in.
"Morning, sir," Caleb greeted casually. "Heard from some… discreet sources that you're the man to see about buying and selling certain goods. Valuables, tools, that sort of thing."
Seamus, mid drag on his cigarette, froze. His eyes narrowed. "I don't know where you heard that partner," he muttered, voice low. "But this here's a private sideline. You don't go announcing it to the world."
Caleb smirked. "Relax, mister. I'm not the law, and I'm not here to cause trouble, just wanting to do business and looking to make a deal."
Seamus exhaled a slow stream of smoke, his sharp eyes scanning Caleb up and down before flicking toward the road to ensure no unwanted ears were nearby. Satisfied, he leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"Alright, stranger. Let's say I am the man you're lookin' for. What exactly are you sellin'?"
Caleb smirked, reaching into his satchel. "A little bit of everything." He then reached into his satchel and pulled out 3 gold pocket watches, 5 silver pocket watches, 3 gold plated buckles, 4 silver clam buckles, and 2 silver emblem rings, carefully laid them out on the table.
Seamus's eyes gleamed as he looked at the things Caleb had put on his table, and he picked up a particularl golden pocket watch, opening and turning it over in his fingers.
"Quality pieces," he murmured. "Not the usual trash folks bring me." He glanced up. "You rob a stagecoach or somethin'?"
"Or something," Caleb replied vaguely. "Let's just say the previous owners won't be missing them."
Seamus chuckled darkly before pulling out a small ledger, running his nicotine stained finger down the columns. "Let's see now... gold pocket watch, 10 dollars a piece. Silver pocket watch, 8 dollars a piece. Gold plated buckles, 3 dollars each. Silver clam buckles, 1 dollar a piece. Them silver rings, 3 dollars a piece." He tapped the page. "Comes to 89 dollars for the whole lot."
________________________________
Name: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 6/10
- Agility: 6/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 6/10
- Charm: 5/10
- Luck: 5/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 1)
- Rifle (Lvl 1)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 2)
- Past Life Memory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 1)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 1)
- Poker (Lvl 1)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 1)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
Money: 261 dollars and 99 cents
Bank: 40 dollars, 2 gold bars, and a large bag of jewelry