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...
Strauss nodded at once. "I understand your hesitation. And I give you my word, my professional word, that I will not betray or cheat you. Whatever my past, I recognize what you have done for this… family."
His voice dropped slightly. "You have proven you would do anything for them. In truth, you are better for them now than Dutch ever was."
There was no bitterness in the statement. Just fact.
"That speaks volumes," Strauss added, "because Dutch was a great man once." He paused. "Emphasis on once."
Caleb inclined his head. "I understand. And I know you wouldn't betray anyone here."
He allowed himself a small, wry smile. "Anyone outside this family, maybe. But that's why I'm comfortable with you handlin' my finances, as long as you don't bring trouble down on us."
Strauss gave a solemn nod. "You have my assurance."
Without another word, Caleb reached into his satchel and withdrew a thick roll of bills. He counted quickly, then separated a portion and pressed it into Strauss's hand.
"200 dollars," Caleb said. "That's your wage. And travel money."
Strauss blinked, clearly caught off guard. "Mr. Thorne—"
Caleb raised a hand gently. "You're earnin' it. I need you to head to Valentine. There's a young man there named Jasper. He's the manager of the restaurant. My right hand man."
Strauss listened intently as Caleb continued.
"Tell him you're hired by me to handle the accounting. Keep the books straight. Make sure money's stored safely. Look into opportunities that fit our goals."
Strauss nodded, committing every word to memory.
"One more thing," Caleb added. "You listen to Jasper. He knows the operations like the back of his hand, what we spend, what wages look like, what supplies cost, anything really. His position's above yours in the business structure."
Strauss didn't bristle. If anything, he looked relieved by the clarity. "Of course. I prefer defined hierarchies. They prevent… misunderstandings."
Caleb smiled. "Good."
Strauss tucked the money carefully into his vest. "I will leave within the hour."
Mary-Beth stepped forward then, offering Strauss a warm but searching look. "Just… make sure you take care," she said gently.
Strauss inclined his head to her. "I assure you, Miss Mary-Beth. I intend to be indispensable."
With that, he excused himself, already turning toward his tent to prepare.
Mary-Beth watched him go, then looked back to Caleb. "You planned that," she said, not accusingly.
He chuckled. "Planned hopin' for it. Didn't expect it to fall into place so clean."
She slipped her hand into his again. "You're buildin' somethin', Caleb. Not just land or a house."
He squeezed her fingers. "So are we."
The rest of the morning unfolded in fragments.
Arthur approached later, curiosity written plainly on his face when he noticed Strauss packing with purpose. Caleb explained briefly, earning a low whistle and a nod of approval.
"Never thought I'd see Strauss countin' money for us instead of takin' it," Arthur muttered. "Guess hell really is freezin' over."
Charles checked in about the land again, already thinking about water sources and fencing. Sadie listened from a distance, arms crossed, eyes sharp, not opposed, but measuring.
Bill asked if the barns would be big enough for military style drills, which earned him several groans. Pearson began drafting menus aloud, dreaming of fresh herbs and steady supplies.
Even Javier, cautious as ever, admitted that new papers and quiet money might be their best chance.
As the sun reached its zenith, Strauss rode out toward Valentine, dust curling behind him like a question mark finally answered. Caleb stood watching until the rider disappeared over the rise.
For the first time since he'd arrived in this world, juggling foreknowledge and consequence, Caleb felt the pieces align, not through force, but through choice.
This wasn't an escape anymore.
It was construction.
A foundation being laid carefully, brick by brick, dollar by dollar, trust by hard earned trust.
On the evening, Hosea joined Caleb who was sitting by the fire.
"You did somethin' important today," Hosea said quietly.
Caleb looked at him. "Strauss?"
"Yes. That, and more."
Hosea smiled faintly. "You're building structure. That's what Dutch never understood. Dreams need scaffolding, or they collapse."
Caleb nodded. "I just hope the foundation holds."
"It will," Hosea said. "Because it's built on reality this time, not just dreams."
They sat in companionable silence as the fire crackled.
The next morning came quiet and pale, a thin mist clinging to the grass around camp as if the land itself was reluctant to wake. Birds called softly from the trees, and the fire from the night before had burned down to dull embers. It was the kind of morning that felt almost ordinary, deceptively so.
Hosea was already awake.
He stood near the edge of camp when Arthur emerged, rolling his shoulders and rubbing sleep from his eyes. A shovel leaned against a nearby tree. Another rested beside it, freshly cleaned, its metal catching the early light. Caleb joined them moments later, fastening his coat and taking in the scene with a quiet understanding of what this meant.
No words were wasted.
Hosea picked up one of the shovels and handed it to Arthur. Then he took the second and passed it to Caleb. The gesture was deliberate. Symbolic.
"Time we put that money to use," Hosea said quietly. "No point lettin' it rot in the ground any longer."
Arthur nodded. "Figure we'll need every cent."
"We will," Hosea agreed. "Land. Supplies. Tools. Stone. Logs. Nails. Wages." He exhaled slowly. "We can't show our faces there. Not with the bounties some of us are carryin'. Especially you, Arthur. And me."
Arthur snorted faintly. "Guess bein' infamous has its drawbacks."
Caleb didn't smile. He understood the weight of it all too well. This wasn't just money. This was commitment. Once they dug that chest up, there would be no pretending this was still just talk.
They started walking.
The path led them beyond the perimeter of camp, into thicker brush where the trees grew older and closer together. Dew soaked their boots. Hosea walked ahead, his pace steady but measured, as if each step stirred memories he hadn't quite settled.
After several minutes of silence, Hosea spoke again, his voice lower now.
"When Dutch and I buried this chest… he was like his old self."
Arthur glanced at him but said nothing.
"He joked," Hosea continued. "Talked about the future. About gettin' everyone somewhere safe once this was all over. For a few hours, it felt like whatever have happened, hadn't happened at all."
Hosea shook his head faintly. "But the moment we finished buryin' it… somethin' changed. He pulled away. Shut down. Started talkin' like everyone else was the problem."
Arthur's jaw tightened.
"And then," Hosea went on, "came the argument. Between him and Caleb."
Caleb's grip on the shovel tightened slightly, but he didn't interrupt.
"I've never seen him like that," Hosea admitted. "Not truly. Accusin'. Paranoid. Sayin' the world was conspiring against him. When he pulled that gun and shot at you…" Hosea stopped walking for a moment, swallowing hard. "That was when I knew."
Arthur exhaled sharply through his nose. "That's when we tied him up."
"That's when we accepted it," Hosea said softly. "The Dutch we knew is gone."
They resumed walking.
Arthur reached out and gave Hosea a firm pat on the back, rough but sincere. "You ain't alone in this, old man."
Caleb spoke then, his voice even. "The past Dutch was a good man. The man who taught loyalty. The man who saved lives."
He looked ahead. "But the man he is now… isn't."
Hosea nodded, a sad smile tugging at his lips. "That's the truth of it."
They reached a large, gnarled tree not long after, its roots sprawling like grasping fingers across the earth. Beside it stood a fist sized stone, planted vertically into the ground, unnatural enough to stand out if you knew to look for it, invisible if you didn't.
Caleb stopped and studied it. "So this is the spot you and Dutch chose, huh."
Hosea nodded. "Sure is. Dug it deep. Didn't want curious animals or curious men findin' it."
He stepped aside. "Go on, then. Start diggin'. We put it down far."
Arthur and Caleb wasted no time.
The shovels bit into the soil with practiced ease, earth flying as they worked in rhythm. Years of labor, digging graves, caches, trenches, made the motion instinctive. Sweat formed quickly despite the cool morning air.
Arthur worked silently, jaw set, thoughts clearly elsewhere. Caleb focused on the task, but his mind churned.
This was the money. The one variable he'd always had to dance around.
The ground gave way gradually, dirt turning darker and more compact the deeper they went.
After several minutes, Arthur's shovel struck something solid with a dull thud.
"There," Arthur said.
They dug more carefully then, clearing the soil from around the object until the weathered lid of a heavy chest emerged from the earth. Thick iron bands reinforced its sides. It looked old. Trusted.
They cleared the last of the dirt and braced themselves, lifting it together and hauling it free from the hole with a grunt. The chest landed heavily on the ground, solid and real.
Arthur wiped sweat from his brow. "Hell of a place to keep a fortune."
Hosea knelt beside it and reached into his coat, producing a small, worn key. His hands trembled just slightly as he fitted it into the padlock.
The click echoed louder than it should have.
Hosea lifted the lid.
Inside lay neatly packed bundles of dollar bills, their edges worn but well kept. Nestled among them were several gold nuggets, dull and heavy, a handful of jewels catching the light even through dust, and folded bonds tucked into oilcloth.
Arthur let out a low whistle. "Damn."
Caleb's eyebrows lifted despite himself. "That's… more than I expected."
Hosea smiled faintly, though there was weariness in it. He closed the lid again carefully, as if sealing more than just money inside.
"Last time I counted," Hosea said, standing, "it came to around 20,567 dollars. That includes the gold nuggets and jewels."
Arthur stared at him. "You're kiddin'."
Hosea shook his head. "No."
Arthur glanced at Caleb, disbelief written plainly on his face. "That's enough to disappear."
Caleb nodded slowly. By any standard, any era, that was a staggering amount.
Arthur exhaled. "Imagine if this was added to the money we left behind in Blackwater. We could buy couple of lands without even thinkin' about it."
The words hit Caleb like a gunshot.
For just a fraction of a second, his mind froze.
Blackwater.
The money that was already gone. The money he had taken, redirected, secured, without their knowledge.
He couldn't let that surface. Not now. Not ever.
Caleb forced himself to breathe, to keep his expression neutral. "I'd love to see that too," he said carefully. "But from everything I've heard… only Dutch knew where that stash was."
Arthur's face darkened slightly.
"And from the condition Dutch is in now," Caleb continued, choosing each word with care, "I don't think he's ever gonna tell us where he hid it."
Hosea sighed, the sound heavy with years of regret. "No. I don't think he will."
Arthur kicked at the dirt lightly. "Shame."
Caleb nodded. "Yeah. But this… this is still enough. More than enough to start."
They lifted the chest again, this time together with Hosea, and began the slow walk back toward camp. The weight of it was significant, not just physically, but in what it represented.
When they returned, the camp stirred with interest. Eyes followed them. Conversations paused. Hosea didn't announce anything. He didn't need to. The chest spoke for itself. They brought it into Hosea's tent and set it down carefully. Hosea locked it again, then straightened, squaring his shoulders.
...
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 4)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 4)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 4)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 4)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 3)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 3)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 2)
- Crafting (Lvl 3)
- Persuasion (Lvl 4)
- 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: 3,526 dollars and 10 cents
Inventory: 112,892 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
Bank: -