Red Dead Redemption 2: From Gaming To Cowboy

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...

Caleb exhaled, glancing around to make sure they were truly alone. "Honestly? I don't think there's much you can do, Miss O'Shea. Dutch... from the short time I knew him, I think he was the kind of man who only listened to himself and that was always the path he chose. And it's pulling him away from everyone."

Molly's lips pressed into a thin line. "Including me."

"Including you," Caleb confirmed gently.

For a long moment, Molly was silent, staring at the ground. Then, abruptly, she straightened, her Irish pride resurfacing. "Well, I won't be made a fool of. Not by him, not by anyone."

Caleb respected that. "You shouldn't be."

Molly gave him a small, grateful smile. "Thanks for listening, Caleb. You're... kinder than most of the men in this gang."

Caleb gave a gentle nod. "Thank you. And a word of advice Miss O'Shea, sometimes, when you care about someone... It's hard to know what to believe anymore."

Molly gave him a surprised look. "You sound older than you look when you say that."

"Yeah... I get that a lot," Caleb replied, half chuckling.

They stood in companionable silence for a while longer. Then Molly straightened her dress and stepped back.

"I should go now. Don't want Dutch to be looking for me thinking I'm not at camp. That's... if he looks for me."

"Right. Well... take care, Miss O'Shea."

"You too, Mr. Thorne."

She walked back toward camp, her gait slower than before. Caleb remained where he was, staring up at the sky through the swaying leaves. He knew her question wasn't idle. Molly was unraveling. And sooner or later, the rest of the gang would start feeling those cracks too.

After parting ways with Molly, Caleb took a few moments to compose himself before heading back into the heart of camp. The conversation lingered in his mind like smoke, the weight of Molly's doubt about Dutch echoing in his thoughts.

As much as he tried to stay on the periphery of gang politics, it was getting harder to ignore the way cracks were beginning to form.

The afternoon sun was drifting lazily across the sky as Caleb returned to the bustle of Clemens Point. Camp was in its usual rhythm, Javier strumming his guitar near the fire, Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen chatting while doing some laundry, Bill and Lenyy on guard duty, Strauss was looking through this bookkeeping, Miss Grimshaw smoking, and Uncle already dozing off beside a bottle. But one figure caught Caleb's attention more than any other.

Jack.

The little boy was sitting in the dirt near a tree, completely absorbed in drawing squiggly shapes in the earth with a stick. He looked up when he heard Caleb approaching and immediately lit up.

"Uncle Caleb!" Jack beamed.

Caleb chuckled, crouching down beside him and ruffling his hair. "Hey Jack, what are you playing there?"

"Just drawing stuff! I was making a big boat! Wanna see?"

"A boat, huh? Sure, let's have a look."

Jack excitedly pointed at the mess of lines in the dirt. Caleb tilted his head, pretending to study it like a fine painting.

"Yep... that looks like a mighty fine ship. Might even outrun the Navy," Caleb said with a grin.

Jack giggled. "You think so?!"

"Oh, I know so. But hey, have you ever played hide and seek? Or maybe do some stone skipping by the river?"

Jack's eyes widened. "I like that! Uncle Caleb, let's go skip stones!"

Caleb ruffled his hair again. "Then let's go find the perfect skipping stones."

Together, they strolled toward the riverbank, the peaceful sounds of the camp fading behind them. The breeze off the Kamassa was cool and clean, and the water shimmered under the light. Jack immediately began scouring the ground for smooth, flat stones while Caleb followed suit.

They each took turns tossing their chosen stones. Jack squealed every time his skipped even once, while Caleb's made long, smooth bounces across the surface.

"Woah! That one went so far! Again!" Jack gasped.

"You'll get the hang of it. All in the wrist, let me show you again." Caleb replied, showing him again.

As they played skip stones happily, a sudden bark startled them. Jack turned toward the source and exclaimed, "Uncle Caleb, there's a dog!"

A gray coated stray was standing just a little ways away, cautious but not hostile. Caleb recognized him immediately. Cain.

The dog wagged his tail slowly as he watched the boy and the young man with curious eyes.

"Come here, boy! Here, boy!" Jack called, waving him over.

Cain hesitated for a second, then slowly padded toward them. Caleb crouched down and extended his hand, letting the dog sniff. Cain accepted the invitation and nudged his head forward for a pat. Caleb smiled and scratched behind the dog's ears.

"Whose dog is this, Uncle Caleb?"

"I don't know, Jack. I think he just wandered into camp. Seems friendly though. Wanna give him a pat?"

Jack nodded enthusiastically, carefully reaching out. Cain sniffed his hand and leaned into it, his tail wagging.

"He likes me! Can we keep him, Uncle Caleb? Please?"

Caleb chuckled and stood up. "I think we might be able to, but we'd better ask Dutch first."

"Okay! Let's go ask him now!" Jack said excitedly.

With Cain trotting behind them, the two made their way back toward camp. They weaved between tents and the shore of the river until they reached Dutch's tent which was almost at the edge of the camp. Dutch was seated on a chair outside, legs crossed and a book in hand. He looked up as they approached.

"Dutch! Me and Jack got something to ask you," Caleb called out.

Dutch set his book down and stood, his eyes catching sight of the dog.

"Well, well," he said with a smirk, "what do we have here?"

He walked over and crouched beside Cain, giving the dog a few pats as Cain sniffed him and then accepted the affection without issue.

"We found him by the river," Caleb explained. "He just wandered in. Jack took a liking to him."

"Is that so?" Dutch said, standing up and brushing off his coat. He looked from Jack to Cain and then to Caleb.

"Well then... I suppose he's ours. For now."

"That's great!" Jack cheered. "What do we call him?"

Dutch paused, watching the dog closely. "Well... he's a wanderer. Probably did something bad. Cain. His name is Cain."

Jack nodded. "Cain! I like that. C'mon, Cain!"

Cain barked once and wagged his tail.

"You two look after him now," Dutch said, his voice distant again as he picked up his book.

"Will do," Caleb replied.

As they walked away, Jack happily chattered at the dog, tossing him a stick and laughing as Cain chased it.

Caleb couldn't help but smile. In a world rapidly descending into chaos, it was the small things, a game of stone skipping, a child's laughter, a stray dog finding a home, that reminded him why he was trying so hard to change things.

As the sun dipped below the treeline and dusk bled into night, Clemens Point transformed. Crickets began their chorus, the flickering light of campfires cut shapes into the darkness, and a calm settled over the Van der Linde camp.

It was dinner time. Everyone had either gathered around the main fire or at the round table to eat, drink, and talk. The scent of stew and smoke hung in the air like comfort.

Caleb, still energized from the day's little joys with Jack and Cain, made his way toward Pearson's cooking area. The big man was stirring his usual bubbling cauldron of stew with a wide wooden spoon, grumbling softly to himself.

"Need a hand, Pearson?" Caleb asked casually.

Pearson glanced up, squinting through the steam, then cracked a rare smile. "By all means, Mr. Thorne. Grab a knife or a pan, just don't grab my ladle."

Caleb chuckled and grabbed one of the iron pans nearby. "I was thinking I'd cook up something different. Maybe some grilled venison or rabbit? Give folks a break from stew."

"Music to my ears," Pearson said with a sigh. "Just don't let 'em spoil too much. I still want 'em to eat my stew."

Setting up a small side fire away from the main cauldron, Caleb got to work. He pulled out fresh cuts of deer meat from his personal supply, meat he had stored in his inventory system earlier during a hunt, and began seasoning them with salt, pepper, and wild herbs he'd foraged near the river earlier. The meat sizzled on the flat pan, the aroma soon wafting across camp.

As the meat grilled, Caleb noticed the warm reception Cain was getting. The gray coated dog had found a companion in none other than Bill Williamson.

The former soldier had taken to Cain with surprising softness, rubbing behind his ears, feeding him scraps, and even talking to him like a friend. Cain, in turn, lay sprawled beside Bill, content and peaceful.

Caleb smiled to himself. That dog really did have a good nose for people. Cain sensed Bill wasn't just a gruff, violent man, he was someone who needed to be needed, someone who'd never quite fit in but still wanted to.

Once the steaks were done, Caleb placed them onto a large metal plate and brought them over to Pearson's table.

"Food's up! Get your stew and grab a steak if you want one!" Caleb called out.

A chorus of cheers rose from the camp. Even Dutch, from his chair, raised a hand in mild appreciation.

"About damn time someone grilled something proper!" Sean called out with a grin.

"Praise the Lord! Actual meat!" Lenny added.

"Oi! My stew's plenty fine!" Pearson barked, mock offended. "Y'all would be gnawing on bark if not for me!"

Laughter rippled across the camp.

Caleb chuckled and set aside two pieces of the grilled steak into a bowl. He made his way toward the fire where Bill was still sitting with Cain, tossing him a small stick and watching the dog chew it happily. The moment Bill saw Caleb approach, his expression stiffened.

"Caleb," Bill muttered with a grunt.

"Bill," Caleb replied evenly, then extended the bowl. "Thought you might want some extra. One for you, one for Cain."

Bill blinked. He glanced at the bowl, then at Caleb. After their recent chat and the way Caleb had shown actual interest in his stories, in his past... something had changed. Bill wasn't used to people reaching out to him. It was usually the other way around, and even then, rejection was common.

He took the bowl carefully, nodding. "Thanks... Appreciate it."

"You're welcome," Caleb said, crouching beside them.

Bill immediately tore into his steak while Cain sniffed at the other piece and started munching with obvious joy.

Caleb waited a beat before asking, "Hey Bill, since we're both eating, what do you say we crack open a couple beers? Sit here with Cain, relax a bit."

Bill raised a brow. "Beer, huh?"

Caleb nodded. "Yeah. I'll grab us a couple bottles and some stew. Won't take long."

Bill paused, then gave a subtle shrug. "Sure... Why the hell not."

Caleb headed back to the supplies, grabbed two bottles of cold beer, a couple tin plates, and scooped up servings of stew from Pearson's cauldron. With his arms full, he returned to the log where Bill and Cain waited.

He handed Bill a bottle and his food, then sat beside him, setting his own down.

They clinked bottles. "To good company," Caleb said.

"To decent food," Bill added gruffly, though a faint smile tugged at his lips.

Cain barked once, wagging his tail as if toasting with them.

They ate in peace. Around them, the camp was alive, stories being told, Karen singing drunkenly, and Dutch giving some long winded philosophical speech to Hosea and Trelawny. But here, on this log, Caleb and Bill sat with a dog between them, simply existing.

After a while, Caleb looked over. "Y'know... Cain really took a liking to you."

Bill huffed, chewing. "Dogs know a good soul."

Caleb grinned. "That they do."

A silence settled between them. Not awkward. Just... comfortable. It wasn't friendship yet. But it was the start of something. Something Bill hadn't had in a long time. And Caleb, though still an outsider in many ways in Bill's mind, was starting to carve out a place as maybe a friend in his mind.

...

Name: 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 Memory (Lvl MAX)

- Knife (Lvl 1)

- Blunt Weapon (Lvl 1)

- Sneaking (Lvl 2)

- Horse Mastery (Lvl 3)

- Poker (Lvl 3)

- 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)

- Persuasion (Lvl 2)

- Mental Fortitude (Lvl MAX)

- Cooking (Lvl 2)

- Teaching (Lvl 1)

- Germanic Language Proficiency (Lvl MAX)

- Inventory System (Permanent - 5x5x5)

Money: 513 dollars and 45 cents

Inventory: 1004 dollars, 2 gold nuggets, 1 gold bar, and 4 silver rings

Bank: 320 dollars, 4 gold bars, a large bag of jewelry, and 3 gold nuggets