Walking down the main street, Jamie noticed nothing had noticeably changed.
Their morning robbery felt like a ripple in a quiet lake—present, but not enough to stir up real waves.
When he reached the spot where the wagon had been parked earlier, Arthur was already waiting with meat in hand.
Seeing Jamie arrive alone, Arthur frowned in confusion. "Where are the others?"
Jamie climbed into the wagon and asked instead, "Arthur, you ever think about how we're supposed to haul all that food here? Instead of carrying it piece by piece, why don't you just drive over and pick it up?"
Arthur let out a sheepish chuckle. "Sorry, didn't think of that. Usually Pearson or Hosea handled the camp's supplies. So, the stuff's still sitting at the general store?"
"Yeah, it's at the store."
"Alright then, let's head over."
Arthur steered the wagon quickly toward the grocery. When they arrived and he caught sight of the pile stacked high, his eyes widened. "Good Lord, Jamie, you bought half the place out! No wonder you said you couldn't carry it."
Jamie scratched the back of his neck, a little uncertain. "Didn't you say not to skimp? I figured you knew how much the money you gave me could buy."
Arthur gave a small shake of his head but smiled. "Well, it's done now. Let's get it loaded and haul it back."
Together, the two men hefted the goods onto the wagon before heading back toward camp.
On the road, the women in the back had gone quiet, their singing replaced by talk. The three who'd gone shopping shared what they'd learned in town.
Mary-Beth spoke first, leaning forward. "Arthur, Tilly and I slipped into a big fancy mansion. We dressed up like maids—rich folks hardly know who's working for them anyway. While we were inside, I overheard a woman talking about her sister. Said she was traveling from a big city, and that the train she was on was loaded with wealthy passengers. They're headed first to Saint Denis, then boarding a ship overseas. The train runs through the countryside at night, and before the tide they'll be stopping at Scarlett Meadows, near that lonely dock. Did you hear that, Arthur? A train full of rich folk in the middle of nowhere."
Arthur nodded, eyes narrowing with interest. "I know the spot. Scarlett Meadows, right outside New Hanover. Hardly anyone around there these days—most folks have moved off. Just an empty dock, quiet as can be."
"Which means it's perfect for us to make a move," Mary-Beth added eagerly.
Arthur rubbed his chin. "Sounds promising. I'll swing by the station this afternoon, ask a few questions, see what I can dig up."
Karen leaned back against the wagon side and smirked. "Well, while you're thinkin' trains, don't forget what that drunk at the hotel told me—he couldn't stop bragging about the bank here."
Arthur shot her a look. "Karen, I don't want to rain on you, but small-town banks usually ain't worth the trouble. Most times, they've got next to nothing in their vaults."
Karen crossed her arms and raised her brow. "Maybe so, but Valentine's a livestock town. Folks deal in cattle, and that means cash—sometimes a whole lot of it."
Arthur considered her point, then gave a slow nod. "You've got a fair argument. Still, we need to be careful. Can't just go charging in blind."
Karen smirked with confidence. "Don't you worry. I'll do some digging. If there's money to be had, I'll find it."
"Have there been any activity from the town's detectives and the O'Driscoll gang this morning?" Arthur asked, looking around at the group.
"The town was real quiet this morning," Mary-Beth replied, her voice steady as she folded her arms.
"Looks like the sheriff chalked up that robbery as just another gang scuffle. Since we didn't harm any townsfolk, I doubt they'll trouble themselves too much over it. As for the O'Driscolls, not a single trace of them yet. Seems they haven't caught word that their hideout got hit."
Jamie leaned back slightly, surprised at how much they had learned just from strolling around.
He couldn't help but think these women weren't just support for the camp—they were sharp-eyed, capable, and if armed, they could've handled trouble themselves.
He realized he'd underestimated them. They were more militia than simple camp helpers.
Arthur gave a small grin and said, "Well, that's good news. Looks like the whole thing went smoother than I expected. Truth be told, ever since Jamie here joined us, it feels like luck's been on our side." He shot Jamie a teasing glance.
Caught off guard, Jamie stiffened at Arthur's knowing look, wondering if his passive skill had been discovered. If it had been one of the women, he could've brushed it off as women's super sixth-sense—but Arthur was as blunt as a sledgehammer.
How could he be so quick to notice?
Jamie gave a nervous chuckle and scratched the back of his head. "Heh, just a coincidence, Arthur. Ain't got nothin' to do with me."
Arthur smirked, shaking his head. "Course it's a coincidence. Otherwise, you think God's really keepin' watch over the likes of us? Ha! I'd sooner believe the devil's smilin' on us than believe God gives a damn."
'Maybe it's because I am the 'Chosen One'...' Jamie thought silently, biting back the words with a wry smile.
The rest of the ride was filled with a noisy back-and-forth between the girls about whether God exist, etc.
By the time they rolled back into camp and the women finally stopped, Jamie's ears were ringing from the chatter.
He stepped down from the wagon and, for the first time that day, the sound of birds in the woods felt like pure relief.
Arthur found Pearson near the wagons, already setting out lunch.
Pulling him aside, Arthur pointed to the cart loaded with vegetables. "Here, this is for you."
Pearson eyed the heap of vegetables, then glanced at the cuts of meat Arthur had set down beside them.
He sighed dramatically. "Now this here's a real problem. Why in the blazes did we haul back so many vegetables? If only it were swapped—more meat and less of this green stuff. As it stands, I guess we're grazin' like rabbits tonight. And I don't reckon anyone's gonna be happy about it."
Arthur squinted at him. "What're you mumblin' about now?"
Pearson lifted his hands in mock surrender. "I'm just sayin', unless you want the stew bland as dishwater, we're gonna need more meat. Either this afternoon or tomorrow, you best rustle up somethin' to balance it out—or the camp's gonna start complainin'."
Arthur huffed, clearly irritated at Pearson's tone. "Why don't you just come right out and say I didn't buy enough meat? Ain't no need to dress it up in all that talk. Fine, I'll get you more tonight or tomorrow. For now, just haul this stuff where it belongs."
Jamie went over to help heft the last crates. When it was done he sat down with a shallow plate of stew and let his mind wander to the strange advantages he'd picked up—five extra points to Stamina.
Without that boost, hauling the thirty-odd pounds of meat Arthur bought would have left him useless for the rest of the day. Now he could feel the difference.
Attributes mattered.
With his current stats he doubted he could best Mary-Beth in a scrap; maybe only Little Jack would be an easy match.
He resolved to focus more on raw strength in future draws. Intermediate Riding, Intermediate Revolver Mastery and the Dead Eye skill were fine for keeping enemies at a distance, but close work relied on the body.
He'd also picked up the inner workings of his Chosen One passive aura somewhere along the way—he wondered how it would show up in a real fight and after today's turn of luck, Jamie felt a rush of excitement.
After lunch he stretched out under a shady cottonwood, a warm breeze smelling faintly of grass and smoke ruffling his hair. Spring had finally come to these parts, and for a moment the world outside the camp's tense edges felt amiable.
That calm broke like a snapped rope. From across the wagons came a rising argument—sharp words cutting through the afternoon quiet.
"You old witch, you can say what you want, but if you've got me doing housework forever, one of us is gonna die!" Sadie's voice rasped like she'd been swallowing gravel.
"Sadie Adler, watch your mouth. If I were so easily pushed around, Dutch wouldn't let me run things," Susan Grimshaw shot back, hands on her hips. "You keep this up and you'll find yourself without a place to stand."
"If you come near me, witch, I'll gut you!" Sadie spat.
"Put that knife down," Pearson barked, stepping forward. "Don't you go threatening Ms. Grimshaw."
Jamie's jaw tightened.
He rose without thinking and ran toward the circle forming around the quarrel.
Everyone in camp gathered—some curious, some ready to break it up. Arthur's voice cut through the noise as he arrived, booming, "What's going on here? Why you both raising such a ruckus?"
Sadie didn't hold back. "They want me washing and sewing and playing nurse while the men run out chasing trouble. I signed up to put O'Driscoll boys in the ground, not to do their laundry!"
"Everyone's got a job," Susan answered coolly. "If you're so keen on hunting O'Driscoll, nobody's stopping you—but this camp runs on the little things you're complaining about."
"Why must it always be the women? Why do the men get to be out there while we patch and scrub? If you lot are too timid to act, I'll go alone." Sadie's words were dangerous and raw.
Pearson bristled. "Watch yourself, girl. I'm a man too."
Arthur stepped forward, grabbed Sadie's arm and pulled her aside, his voice dropping to a quieter tone.
Jamie edged closer and heard him say, low and steady, "Mrs. Adler, I know you shoot true and you're brave as hell. But revenge ain't something you burn for on a whim. How many O'Driscoll boys can you kill alone? Do you want to waste yourself on cannon fodder, or do you want to take down the man who killed your husband—cut the head off the snake and be done with it? Dutch wants the same as you. We all do. But we need chance and plan, not a hot temper. You understand me?"
Seeing Sadie's face soften, Arthur continued, "I'll speak with Miss Grimshaw. I'll tell her to treat you like one of the men. You can go out every day—gather intel, take jobs with us. But there's one rule you gotta understand: don't do anything that risks the gang or puts folks in danger. Even if it's the O'Driscolls. We ain't just hunters—we're prey to others too. You follow me?"
"I ain't afraid of dyin', but I promise I'll think of the gang first from now on," Sadie said, voice steady and serious.
"Good." Arthur nodded. "I'll go talk to Miss Grimshaw now, get her on board. Then we'll take you out later."
He hauled Susan over and began to smooth things out the way he had with Sadie.
As for Pearson—get him some kitchen work, and he'll be right as rain.
The crowd around them slowly dispersed once the drama eased. Jamie guided Sadie back to his cot and motioned for her to sit.
After she settled on the bed, Jamie sat on Arthur's cot nearby and asked softly, "What's the real story? From the way you talked, someone might think Miss Grimshaw killed your husband."
Sadie's features relaxed from the hard edge she'd worn earlier. She glanced at Jamie and said stubbornly, "She says there's things women ought to do. She thinks I ought to sit it out here. Back home, me and my husband worked side by side on everything—hunting, fixin', whatever needed doing. I'm as handy with a knife as I am with a gun. No matter how I argue, she won't let me. If it were you—wouldn't you be mad?"
Jamie thought for a moment, then offered a small, rueful smile. "You might not believe it, but where I came from, men and women were treated the same. Sometimes women were held in even higher regard. Folks respected each other there; none of this lookin' down business."
Sadie's eyes widened. "That so? I never heard of a place like that round here. What happened?"
Jamie's smile faded. "Then the war came, and that world was gone."
Sadie frowned. "War? That was ages ago—over thirty years back. You're not that old. How could you remember?" She squinted at him, suspicion creeping in. "You makin' that up to make me feel better?"
Jamie blinked, startled.
He'd almost forgotten how long had passed since the Civil War. He cleared his throat and said, "No—my father told me about it. I just remember his stories."
Seeing Sadie still not wholly convinced, Jamie let out a light cough and steered the talk back. "Anyway, Arthur wanted you to ride with us this afternoon. You got a horse in camp?"
Sadie's face brightened. "No horse. Guess we buy one. Didn't Arthur say half of what we took would go to the gang and half to us? I figured—by my reckonin'—we'll each get more'n a hundred dollars share. That's enough for a horse, and I could even buy a gun."
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