Chapter 160: A Letter from Saint Denis
The life Uncle, John, and the others were living was something Hosea had never imagined.
He had known things would be comfortable if he followed Davey, but he hadn’t expected it would mean living like members of high society.
Hosea had once disguised himself to slip into all kinds of upper-class balls. Thanks to his good looks, people rarely suspected him—though he only attended those events to steal.
Survival and living were always the main themes of the West. Out here, without dollars, you had nothing.
Hosea had also wondered whether he could ever truly live like someone from the upper class. He and Dutch had founded the gang in the first place to pursue a better life.
He just never imagined Davey would accomplish everything he had dreamed of.
And Hosea knew very well—if he ever chose to stay, Davey would welcome him without hesitation. Davey’s feelings toward him were like those of a father toward his child, and in his heart, Davey treated the Callander brothers as his own sons.
But when it came to Dutch, Hosea simply couldn’t leave.
...
That night at Land Farm, Uncle, John, Hosea, and Davey drank hard liquor together, reminiscing about the old days.
John, drunk, let out a frustrated groan.
“Dutch—oh, ‘I have a plan’—to hell with his plans.”
“Hosea, I owe you. If you hadn’t talked me into it back then, I wouldn’t have the life I have now.”
“This—this is what living really means, Hosea. Davey opened an elementary school in Valentine—Land Elementary. Little Jack can start after Christmas this year.”
“And you know what, Hosea? Working for Davey pays me three hundred bucks a month. A steady job.”
“I’m so damn grateful, Davey. You’re the one who made this life possible for me.”
“Tell me, Hosea—if we’d stuck with Dutch, would we ever have what we have now? Life in the gang was absolute hell.”
Hosea hadn’t expected John to ask such a question.
“Of course… maybe… I don’t know, John.”
“If we could’ve robbed a huge score, then gone somewhere no one knew us, maybe we could’ve lived the way you do now.”
“But honestly… I don’t see much hope anymore.”
John took a long drink from the bottle, glanced at Davey, then looked back at Hosea.
“Hosea, to me… you’re like my father. Better than my real father ever was—that drunk.”
“Here, I’ve got Uncle, Abigail, little Jack—we’re living good lives, enjoying things. But you, Hosea… Arthur… and everyone else in the gang—you’re still running, robbing, always being hunted.”
“Life shouldn’t be like that. You know exactly what I mean, Hosea.”
“If you’re willing, we’d be happy to have you here. Leave Dutch. He’s a madman, and sooner or later he’s going to drag everyone to their doom.”
Even Davey hadn’t expected John to speak so openly, trying to persuade Hosea to stay.
To be fair, John never respected Dutch the way Arthur did. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have walked away from the gang for an entire year before all this.
In the game storyline from his previous life, after a series of failures, John was the first to openly confront Dutch—no hesitation, no mercy, calling him out directly.
And that was exactly why, later on during a heist, when John got separated, Dutch turned a blind eye and left him behind.
Now, John had even less reason to show Dutch any courtesy.
“Sorry, John. I’d like to… but I can’t. Not now.”
“I’m old. There aren’t many things I care about anymore… but some ties just can’t be cut. You’re different—you have Abigail, little Jack. You’re still young. You have choices.”
Hosea’s tone was firm. Twenty years of shared life meant more than money or comfort.
The mood turned awkward. Davey was about to say something when Uncle stepped in first.
“Gentlemen, my father once told me—don’t worry too much about the future. Enjoy the happiness you have today.”
“So let’s drink to today!”
Uncle’s words eased the tension, and the conversation quickly drifted toward women and dirty songs—his specialty.
“Oh, now I’m starting to miss that kid Javier. He really could play a guitar.”
Clearly, dirty songs without accompaniment lacked soul.
...
The next morning.
Davey woke up with a pounding hangover.
Last night everyone had been drinking hard liquor, and he hadn’t had a chance to stick with fruit wine—he had to go along with the crowd.
It was like showing up to a hard-liquor drinking session with a bottle of light beer—sure to kill the mood instantly.
After Elisa helped him bathe, Davey finally felt clear-headed again.
Back in Valentine, dealing with the bonds Hosea brought was only one task; there were many others needing his personal attention.
The Veterans’ Club, the café about to open, the ongoing construction of Land Elementary…
And he needed to meet Sheriff Malloy for a meal to strengthen their rapport.
All of it required Davey himself.
Just as he was getting ready to stop by the Valentine Veterans’ Club, Elisa informed him:
A letter had arrived—from Saint Denis.
Author's Note
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