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Caleb hearing that hesitated only a fraction of a second before he decided to tell the truth replying. "Oh, just looking around and envisioning an idea I got. Wants to try my hand at a food stall, selling so warm food. Sothin' simple, y'know?"
Mr. Levi nodded slowly. "Really now? Well never expected for you to have a business mind. Can't wait to see what will beco of this business of yours. If the food was good, I would have even gone to buy at your stall, seeing as it was much closer compared to a walk toward the saloon."
"Let's hope this one pays off then, Mr. Levi."
Mr. Levi gave a pat to Caleb's arm before taking a step back. "Well, I'd best go back to the state. Don't let the town down, Caleb. They're rootin' for you, whether they say it or not."
With that, Mr. Levi tipped his hat and made his way toward the stable, leaving Caleb alone once more to consider the lot.
He stood there in the morning sun, arms folded across his chest, a faint breeze brushing the fringe of his shirt. The land felt right. The timing felt right. All the cards were falling into place. And for once, it felt like he wasn't just surviving in this world, he was building sothing.
Caleb stood quietly at the edge of the lot, the warm light of morning spilling across the dirt where his stall would soon rise. The scent of horses from the stable nearby lingered faintly in the breeze, but it didn't bother him. It grounded him. Made the dream feel real.
A distant rattling of wheels broke the quiet. Turning, Caleb spotted a small wagon coming up the road, pulled by a sturdy brown mule. In the wagon bed were beams of wood, a few barrels, a rolled-up tarp, and tools clinking with every bump of the path.
George, Elias, and Seth waved as they approached. George had the reins in hand, while Elias sat beside him, puffing lightly on a pipe. Seth, seated in the back, kept a firm grip on a bundle of planks. All three looked wide awake and ready to work.
"Hello, Caleb!" George called as they pulled up beside the empty lot.
"Hello', gentlen," Caleb said, tipping his hat with a grin. "Looks like you have everything in place."
"Wouldn't miss it," Seth replied, hopping down first, followed by Elias. George climbed off last, stretching his back with a grunt.
"We brought everything we could to get started. Lumber, tools, brackets, nails..." Elias said, gesturing to the wagon.
"Perfect," Caleb nodded. "Let's get it off."
They began unloading together, stacking the lumber neatly off to the side and organizing the barrels and toolboxes. Caleb worked quickly and efficiently, never shying from the heavier loads. The three builders noticed it too, the way he moved, strong and capable, like soone used to both thought and sweat.
Once everything was laid out, Caleb wiped his brow and turned to the trio.
"Say... I know this is y'all's job and all, but I was wonderin'. I have so experience with Crafting, not that much, but it's sothing at least. Think I could help out? Just the nial tasks, of course. Hamrin' nails, cuttin' wood. I ain't tryin' to take your jobs, just want to learn and be part of it."
George blinked in surprise. "Well, damn. First ti soone hires and then asks to join in on the labor. That's a new one."
Elias chuckled. "Ain't that the truth. Most just want it done, no splinters."
Seth added with a grin, "But I ain't complainin'. You want in, boss, you're in."
Caleb laughed with them, then shrugged. "Figure if sothin' breaks down later, I'd rather be able to fix it myself than pay every ti. Makes sense, doesn't it?"
George nodded slowly, then looked at Elias and Seth. "What do you boys think?"
"Long as he ain't stealin' my hamr, I'm good with it," Elias said with a grin.
"He's the boss. Let him work," Seth added.
Caleb smiled. "Appreciate it. I'll throw in a little bonus for y'all."
"Now you're talkin'," George said, slapping his hands together. "Let's get to work."
The next few hours passed in the dust and rhythm of progress. Caleb helped haul beams, hold fras steady, cut wooden planks to size, and hamr in nails where needed. George led the framing of the stall itself, Elias worked the cutting with precise asures, and Seth set up the brackets and supports for the cooking counter and side panels.
They began with the base of the shed, just dirt, no flooring, exactly how Caleb envisioned it. Then ca the framing of the walls, tall and wide enough to provide visibility for passersby but sturdy enough to withstand wind and ti. The counter would stretch outward toward the street, with a lower shelf inside for the placent of hot pots and serving trays.
Around the shed's periter, Caleb helped asure out the table areas, marking them in the dirt. Five sturdy tables would be set up later with four chairs apiece. Caleb planned to stain and finish them personally once built.
Even with his Crafting (Lvl 1) skill, Caleb's hands grew raw from unaccustod labor, but he didn't complain, until he received a notification through his system interface.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION
Crafting Skill Increased! (Lvl 1 → Lvl 2)
"Calluses build character and better furniture."
By midday, the bones of the stall were already standing. Elias broke out a tin can of beans and handed them out alongside hard biscuits. They all sat together under the edge of the shade, drinking from canteens, faces streaked with sweat and hands sore but satisfied.
"Not bad for a half day's work," George said, chewing.
"We'll have the rest of the structure up tomorrow," Elias added. "And by the day after, folks'll be eatin' hot food right here boss."
Caleb looked over the half built stall and smiled.
He could see it now, the steam rising from stew pots, Jasper with a smudged apron taking orders, the scent of cooked at and spices wafting down the street, and people lined up, laughing, eating, and warming their bones with sothing good.
"Thanks, boys," he said quietly.
George slapped him on the back. "Hey, it's your dream. We're just helpin' build it."
After lunch, they got back to work.
Caleb's Crafting skill wasn't flashy or refined yet, but every nail driven and board cut under instruction counted. In the back of his mind, he could feel sothing grow, a faint tingle that told him his ti wasn't being wasted.
By sundown, the stall's fra and primary walls stood proud. The outline of the future tables had been laid. The shed structure had its skeletal form with the counter beams in place. Though there was still work to do, the foundation had been more than just wood and nails, it was a declaration.
As the sun dipped lower behind the hills, casting Valentine in that deep golden glow, Caleb stepped back with the others and looked at what they'd built.
Tomorrow would bring more labor. More hamring. More sawdust and sweat.
After a long day of hauling lumber, hamring nails, and fitting pieces together under the warm Valentine sun, Caleb Thorne and the three craftsn parted ways with firm handshakes and nods of satisfaction.
"We'll pick it up again tomorrow morning," George said, slapping sawdust off his trousers.
"Bright and early," Caleb confird.
They departed with the now empty wagon, leaving Caleb alone at the edge of the rising stall, coated in a layer of dust, gri, and dried sweat. He stretched his aching arms and rolled his neck. Tired but proud.
With a weary gait, Caleb made his way back to the hotel. The clerk gave him a curious look when he entered, slling of timber, earth, and effort. Caleb reached into his pocket, produced 25 cents, and set it on the counter. "Bath, please."
"Course. Tub's hot," the clerk said, reaching for a key.
Caleb nodded and headed to the back, peeling off his dirty Vaquero outfit and stepping into the steaming water. He let out a low sigh as the heat seeped into his muscles, easing the tension in his back and shoulders. He scrubbed himself clean, leaning back in the tub with his arms draped along the sides, head tilted back, eyes half lidded.
Once he was clean, he dried off and retrieved his neatly folded Valentine Outfit from his inventory. The clothes were fresh and far more suitable for a casual evening in town. He bundled up his soiled Vaquero outfit and returned it to the hotel clerk.
"Have this washed, would ya?"
"That'll be 50 cents."
Caleb handed over the paynt and nodded his thanks before stepping back into the early evening air, feeling considerably lighter. His next stop was the saloon.
Inside, the mood was lighter than the previous night but still lively. Caleb claid a small table, ordered a thick, juicy pri beef steak for 6 dollars, and a chilled bottle of beer for 25 cents.
The food was hearty, the beer crisp. He ate in peace, eavesdropping here and there, occasionally answering a "Hey Caleb!" with a polite nod or raised glass.
Once full and satisfied, Caleb returned to the hotel, his legs aching slightly from the day's labor. He climbed the stairs slowly and all but collapsed onto the bed in his room. The pillow felt like heaven. He was out within monts.
Morning ca harshly.
A commotion on the street stirred him awake. Raised voices, the sound of boots rushing across the wooden planks outside, the growing buzz of a crowd. Caleb blinked blearily at the ceiling, then sat up, groaning.
He reached for his boots, strapped them on, then shrugged on his jacket and adjusted his hat. His gun belt followed, holsters snug around his hips, his Double Action and Schofield holstered tightly.
Descending the stairs, he passed the curious clerk and pushed through the doors of the hotel, stepping into a half circle of townsfolk gathered in front of the saloon.
"What's happenin'?" Caleb asked one of the bystanders.
A young rancher pointed toward the street. "Started as a drunken brawl inside. One man accused the other of killin' his brother. Mr. Douglas kicked 'em both out, but now they're fixin' to settle it with iron."
Caleb's expression turned grave. He pushed through the crowd until he saw them, two n, swaying on their feet, sweat glistening on their brows, rage in their eyes. One was lean and wiry with wild, bloodshot eyes. The other stocky and flushed, a bleeding cut on his lip.
People were far too close to the pair.
"Everyone, back off!" Caleb barked. "You standin' too close. You want to get hit with a stray bullet? Move back!"
His voice carried authority. People obeyed, shuffling backward to give the duelers space.
The lean man nad Luke, soone muttered, was shouting curses, his finger pointed at the other. "You killed my brother, you snake! This is justice!"
The other man said nothing, just squinted down the street.
Caleb stepped up. "I'll do the count. Let's keep this from turnin' into a massacre."
The two n, too drunk to argue, nodded.
Caleb stood between them and raised a hand. "Three..."
The crowd hushed.
"Two..."
Hands hovered over holsters.
"One."
Bang.
The lean man fired first. His shot hit true, dead center between the eyes. The other man dropped instantly, a lifeless thud against the dirt. The silence was pierced by gasps, a scream, then murmurs. So won looked away, and a few n crossed themselves.
But then Tommy turned, gun still in hand, eyes bleary, and pointed it at Caleb.
"Now you, Thorne! Hero of Valentine so called! Let's see what all the fuss is about. You wanna count for ? Count this!"
Caleb's hands remained loose at his sides. "You're drunk, and you just killed a man. Go ho."
"You scared?" Luke taunted, swaying. "Co on, poker boy. Show what makes you so special!"
"I ain't interested."
Tommy spat. "Y'ain't got guts. You're not a hero, just a card flippin' coward."
That struck a nerve. The crowd shifted. The air tensed.
Caleb narrowed his eyes at Luke. "You want a draw, you got it. But you ain't walkin' away with pride." The townsfolk around imdiately fell dead silent. Caleb stepped forward to his mark. Tommy did the sa. The sun glinted off their holsters.
...
Na: 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 mory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 1)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 2)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 1)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv1) → (Lvl 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- ntal Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
Money: 564 dollars and 0 cents
Inventory: 2,686 dollars, 2 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets
Bank: -
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