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They mounted up and rode east, following the route Alden had pointed out. The road from Saint Denis to Scarlett adows twisted through the bayou before straightening out near the edge of the forested hills. It was quiet, too quiet. Just birdsong and the occasional rustling wind. They scouted ahead, finally spotting the coach in the distance.
Two horses pulled it. One driver, one guard riding shotgun with a repeater slung across his lap. The coach itself was painted black with gold trim, fancy, and exactly the type Trelawny had promised.
Arthur held up a fist, signaling to stop. They crouched low behind a cluster of rocks off the main road, observing.
"That's the one?" Caleb whispered.
Arthur nodded. "Matches the description. No escort behind. Easy pickings."
Caleb surveyed the terrain. There was a narrow turn ahead with a dip on the right side. "We hit 'em there. The driver'll have to slow down. I'll take the guard."
Arthur smirked. "Then I'll handle the horses. No gunfire unless needed."
They split up, Caleb moving into position along the ridge while Arthur stayed low by the turn, the two of them wearing their burlap sack mask. The stagecoach rumbled forward, the wheels creaking and birds scattering as the horses trotted along the path. As it reached the bend, the driver pulled gently on the reins, slowing the team.
Caleb struck first.
From the treeline, his repeater barked once, clean and sharp. The guard dropped before he could raise his weapon. Arthur rushed forward, revolver drawn, pointing it at the startled driver.
"Off. Now."
The driver, pale and wide eyed, raised his hands and jumped down. Arthur kept the revolver with him. "Run."
The man didn't hesitate. He took off down the road, stumbling over brush in his panic.
Caleb joined him monts later, sliding his repeater onto his back. "Nice and clean."
Arthur climbed onto the coach and opened the strongbox behind the bench. Inside was a tal lockbox, heavy with sothing promising.
Caleb worked the box open using his Civil War knife, which it imdiately opened the tal strongbox, clicked free and the lid opened.
Stacks of cash. Envelopes sealed with wax. One pouch jingled with coins.
Arthur let out a low whistle. "Trelawny didn't exaggerate."
Caleb counted quickly. "A couple hundred, at least. Probably more."
They packed up the valuables into their satchels and tossed the now empty box into the nearby brush. Arthur cut the horses loose, slapping their rears to send them into the woods. The coach would be found eventually, but far too late to matter.
The two then took off their mask, mounted up on their horse, as the loot was secure.
"Easy job," Caleb said.
"Let's not jinx it."
Caleb hearing what Arthur said laughed and apologized, shaking his head as he did. "Sorry, you're right. Just... this really was the easiest job we've done yet. Got carried away."
Arthur chuckled at that, the sound low and amused. "Heh. You know, now that I think about it... you're right. Ain't often we walk away with a couple of hundred dollars and no shots fired except the one you made. Pretty damn smooth."
Caleb nodded. "Exactly. It went too clean."
Arthur gave him a knowing glance. "Yeah, and that's why we don't say things like 'easy job' till we're drinkin' back at camp. Don't go jinxin' us, partner. Last thing we need is the next one turning into a real ss."
Caleb smirked. "Point taken."
Arthur clicked his tongue and flicked the reins. "Co on then. Let's get back. That driver might double back with the law, and we're not wearin' masks no more. Don't want to be around if he rembers faces."
Caleb kicked his horse into motion and rode alongside Arthur. They rode in companionable silence through the green and golden countryside, the sun climbing steadily into the sky. After a few minutes of quiet, Caleb glanced over.
"You still in touch with that Gray kid... Beau, right?"
Arthur gave a small nod, keeping his eyes on the road ahead. "Yeah. Still write now and then."
Caleb raised a brow. "Huh. Surprised you're still talking to him. Why's that?"
Arthur hesitated. The question hung in the air for a while, and Caleb figured maybe he'd pushed too far. He was just about to move on when Arthur finally spoke, his voice low and thoughtful.
"I gave him so help. The compensation from him, you could say, was pretty good as well. But that ain't the real reason."
He paused, then continued.
"He reminds of... . Back when I was younger. And Penelope... she's like Mary. Just... braver. Courageous. Willin' to risk it all. And Beau's the opposite, soft spoken, unsure, but he's got heart. Just like I did back then, but the softer version of cause I ain't like him who was soft spoken and unsure, but I got the heart."
He sighed. "I guess... I just hope their story ends better than mine did."
Caleb hearing that was a bit surprised, but not too much, because he knew Arthur would think such a thing. While in the ga he doesn't explicitly say it, the way Arthur protects them until the end so they could run away together to Boston said enough.
Of course, the money played a part as well, especially considering Penelope practically robbed the Braithwaites' riches, which Arthur himself was surprised and even sowhat impressed by.
So he didn't respond to Arthur's words right away, thinking of how he should respond so that he wouldn't offend Arthur.
"I get it. You're not stuck on the past. You're just... seeing a chance to maybe let that part of you find peace. Through them. Their story could be better. Maybe that's worth holding on to."
Arthur glanced at him, surprised. Most folks would've told him to drop it. To stop looking back.
But Caleb didn't judge. He understood. He really understood.
This caused his appreciation for Caleb to increase further, and so he just let out his appreciation by saying, "Thank you."
"Anyti," Caleb replied. "If you ever need help, just tell . I'll try my best to help as much and as well as possible."
Arthur nodded. "Hmm. Appreciate that."
They rode on in silence, the trust between them deepening in a way that couldn't be spoken out loud. Caleb felt it, an unspoken shift. Arthur trusted him now, and not just with a job. With a piece of himself.
Eventually, they reached camp. The sounds of conversation and clinking pots welcod them as they dismounted.
They both pulled the satchels off their saddles and sat at a crate near the wagons to count their haul. After sorting through the bills, envelopes, and coins, they had a grand total of 400 dollars in cash and coin, and another 50 dollars in valuables.
Caleb took more of the cash, not wanting to deal with selling the valuables. They agreed easily, Caleb took 225 dollars in cash, and Arthur pocketed the rest plus the trinkets to fence later.
"Good haul," Caleb remarked, tucking the money into his satchel.
"Damn good," Arthur agreed.
As they finished, they heard voices near Dutch's tent. Pearson, Dutch, and Hosea were in conversation. The tone was hushed but intense.
Curious, Caleb and Arthur wandered over. Just as they got close enough to hear clearly, Pearson said sothing that made Caleb freeze.
"It's peace, Dutch. The O'Driscolls. I think there's a way."
Caleb's eyes narrowed. His Past Life mory Skill surged to the surface, the knowledge pouring into his mind like a flood.
Blessed Are The Peacemakers.
He didn't expect that this mission would imdiately kickstart just after he, in one way or another, completed Friends in Very Low Places.
He figured he'd have more ti after the Trelawny job, maybe days, maybe weeks, but no. The next major turning point was already unfolding. And now he had a choice to make.
anwhile, hearing what Pearson had said, Dutch and Hosea turned to him with expressions of surprise that quickly shifted into sothing more solemn. Arthur, too, had paused, his brow furrowing as he stepped forward and joined Dutch and Hosea near the wagon. Caleb followed closely, staying just behind Arthur.
Arthur folded his arms. "What do you an, peace with the O'Driscolls? Pearson, talk properly so we can understand."
Pearson, still a bit flustered by all the attention, straightened himself. "Well, I was headin' to Rhodes like usual, mindin' my own business, when outta nowhere I run into a couple of O'Driscoll boys. Big fellas, both of 'em. Things were about to get real ugly real quick. You all know I ain't much for fightin'..."
He paused, then suddenly pulled out his knife with a flourish, brandishing it like a perforr on a stage. "But when it cos down to it, I fight like a cornered tiger!" he said, slashing the air in front of him with exaggerated movents.
Dutch, Hosea, and Arthur just stared at him, expressions blank with disbelief. Dutch's lips pursed, Hosea raised an eyebrow, and Arthur shook his head slowly.
Caleb, unable to help himself, let out a small chuckle and stepped forward, gently patting Pearson on the shoulder.
"That's enough showmanship," Caleb said with a wry smile.
Realizing he'd made a fool of himself, Pearson awkwardly lowered his knife and shoved it back into his belt. He cleared his throat, face slightly red. "Right, anyway... it didn't co to that. Sohow, we ended up talkin'. And they said sothin'... unexpected. Said they were lookin' to talk. To parley. Said maybe it's ti to end this, like gentlen."
Dutch blinked, then narrowed his eyes. "Ending this like gentlen? Colm O'Driscoll? Pearson, have you lost your mind? You ever known Colm to act like a gentleman?"
Pearson stamred, caught off guard by Dutch's sudden anger. "N... no, Dutch, of course not, but... I dunno, it just felt like maybe... just maybe, if there was a chance to end this... wouldn't it be worth tryin'?"
Caleb folded his arms and stepped forward. "While it's a good try, Pearson, I think everyone here can tell this is definitely a trap. I may not know everything about your feud with Colm, but I know enough about how he and his gang operate. 'Parley' was never in their vocabulary."
Hosea nodded. "Caleb's right. The mont I heard the O'Driscolls wanted a parley, I knew it was a setup. That man doesn't negotiate. He waits until you're sitting at the table, then shoots you in the back."
Pearson sighed and looked down. "What're we losing in findin' out? I an, Dutch, you and Colm... you've been at this for years. Maybe it's ti."
Arthur stepped in, tone sharp. "We could lose our damn lives, Pearson. That's what."
Dutch nodded emphatically and pointed at Arthur. "Exactly."
Pearson looked defeated, nodding along with the weight of their disapproval. "Right... yeah. I'll go with whatever you decide, Dutch. Hosea. You all know better than ."
But as the group stood in contemplation, Caleb's mind was already racing. This was Blessed Are the Peacemakers in motion. In the ga, this mission led Arthur to be captured by Colm O'Driscoll and tortured, because Micah possibly had laid the groundwork for the ambush. But in this world, Micah was already dead, by Caleb's own hand. That alone changed everything.
Arthur never got tuberculosis either, Caleb had taken on the debt collection duty from the Downes family, sparing Arthur the cough and the terminal disease.
Caleb was present, healthy, and more inford than ever. He looked at Dutch and the others and raised his hand slightly, signaling he had sothing to say. "What if," Caleb began slowly, eting each of their eyes in turn, "we do take this offer... but not to parley. To kill Colm. End this for good."
...
Na: Caleb Thorne
Age: 23
Body Attributes:
- Strength: 7/10
- Agility: 7/10
- Perception: 8/10
- Stamina: 7/10
- Charm: 6/10
- Luck: 6/10
Skills:
- Handgun (Lvl 3)
- Rifle (Lvl 2)
- Firearms Knowledge (Lvl 3)
- Past Life mory (Lvl MAX)
- Knife (Lvl 2)
- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)
- Sneaking (Lvl 3)
- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)
- Poker (Lvl 4)
- Hand to Hand Combat (Lvl 2)
- Eagle Eye (Lvl 1)
- Dead Eye (Lvl 2)
- Bow (Lvl 2)
- Pain Nullifier (Lvl 1)
- Physical Regeneration (Lvl 0)
- Crafting (Lv 2)
- Persuasion (Lvl 2)
- ntal Fortitude (Lvl MAX)
- Cooking (Lvl 2)
- Teaching (Lvl 1)
- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)
- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)
- Acting (Lvl 2)
Money: 935 dollars and 48 cents
Inventory: 3,245 dollars, 7 gold nuggets, 5 gold bars, 4 silver rings, 1 Double Action, 1 Schofield, 2 large bags of jewelry, a gold ring, two silver rings, four silver pocket watches, a gold buckle, and a gold pocket compass
Bank: -
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