RDR: NO REGRETS - Chapter 313: The Mysterious MacFarlane's Ranch (Patreon)

Galloping across open country always put a person in a good mood.

The closer Stephen got to Lake Don Julio, the more greenery appeared along the roadside. By the time he reached the lakeshore, the scenery around him had become even more beautiful.

This really was a good place.

There were no towering forests or rich, fertile fields, but the lake alone was enough to make the area valuable.

The lake provided plenty of food. Along the shore near the camp, Uncle and Pearson had built a row of drying racks covered with fish.

The desert had plenty of sunlight and a very dry climate. Once the cleaned fish were rubbed with salt, it didn't take long for them to dry completely.

And it wasn't just fish. They had all kinds of game meat as well, including rabbit, deer, and even some horse meat. All of it could be salted and dried for storage.

Stephen didn't bother them and simply went around.

Uncle was actually working for once. If Stephen went over there, the old man would probably find an excuse to slack off again.

They had been together for almost half a year. Stephen knew exactly what Uncle was like by now.

Give him half an excuse and he'd be out of there in a heartbeat.

Stephen had no idea what Pearson had promised him to get him working this hard.

Leading his horse toward the cabin, Stephen found Hosea sitting lazily out front, basking in the sun and smoking.

"Your lungs aren't great. You really ought to smoke less."

Stephen walked over with a smile. "Too much smoking isn't good for you."

"Oh, you're back."

Hosea was clearly happy to see him. He patted the stool beside him.

"Come on. Tell me what you've been up to these past few days."

It was a shabby little stool, obviously something they'd made themselves.

Stephen picked it up and moved into the shade before sitting down.

Old people liked sitting in the sun. The warmth helped their aging bodies loosen up.

Stephen, on the other hand, was still young and full of energy. Sitting in the sun would do little besides make him darker.

"Not bad, but things got a little complicated."

Stephen pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then looked at Hosea.

"I've actually got a few things I want to ask you about."

"Go ahead. - Maybe I can still give you some advice.."

Hosea readily agreed.

Stephen didn't hold anything back. He told Hosea everything that had happened over the past two days.

There was a lot to take in, and Hosea needed some time to process it all. He listened quietly for a while before finally speaking.

"The hide business shouldn't be a problem. I'll personally make a trip to MacFarlane's Ranch."

"As for the stable, Pearson and Strauss can handle that."

Just as Stephen had expected, Hosea took on both matters without hesitation.

"I'm sure Pearson will be happy."

Hosea chuckled and pointed toward the drying racks by the lake.

"And it isn't just hides. We've caught all those fish too. We might be able to make some money selling them."

Food, especially meat, was valuable anywhere.

The only question was how much people were willing to pay for it.

"This really does seem like a good place."

Hosea sighed with emotion.

"I think we might finally be able to get our lives back on track here. Turns out all we needed was to come West and stop causing trouble."

That last part about not causing trouble was probably the important part.

Stephen had the distinct feeling Hosea was taking a jab at Dutch, but he couldn't prove it.

"As for Tumbleweed..."

Hosea lowered his head and fell silent for quite a while.

Then he looked seriously at Stephen.

"It really is a good idea, but..."

Hosea hesitated before continuing.

"If this works, we'll have to stay there for good."

"Why wouldn't we?"

Stephen found the concern a little strange.

If they finally built something that could earn them money, why would they keep running around?

Hosea scratched at his thinning hair, apparently trying to figure out how to explain himself.

"Maybe... I'm just thinking too much. I'm simply not used to the idea."

Hosea gave a self mocking laugh.

"In the old days, we'd finish a job and leave immediately. We never thought about settling down anywhere."

Stephen understood what he meant.

They used to be roaming outlaws. They robbed a place, took the money, and left before they had to deal with the consequences.

But if Stephen's plan worked, they'd become a local gang with roots in one place.

That was completely different from how they'd lived before.

A gang needed territory.

And once you had territory, you had to defend it.

The question bothering Hosea was whether people like them could really do that.

Hosea was worried, but Stephen didn't think it was much of a problem.

At least judging by everyone currently at camp, aside from John having some mixed feelings, the others seemed to be adapting just fine.

"We have to take that step sooner or later."

Stephen flicked the cigarette between his fingers. The ash was carried away by the wind before it even touched the ground.

"We have to settle down eventually. If it isn't now, it'll be later."

"So there's no point worrying about it. If the opportunity is there, we take it."

Stephen sounded completely at ease.

Seeing that, much of Hosea's hesitation faded.

"Yeah. Sooner or later, we're going to have to take that step."

Hosea smiled and shook his head, then straightened up.

"So what are you planning? What do you need me to do?"

"Buyers and sellers."

Stephen had already spent plenty of time thinking about it, so the answer came immediately.

"Not just hides. Tobacco, liquor, even weapons. There's money to be made in all of it."

"Take MacFarlane's Ranch, for example. A place that big can't possibly need only hides. We can find out what else they buy. Even if the profit isn't great at first, that's fine. We just need to get started."

"We could even take some of their products somewhere else and sell them. That's business too, isn't it?"

That was essentially what trade came down to. Buying in one place and selling somewhere else.

It sounded simple, but doing it well wasn't easy.

The most important parts were buyers and sellers.

As long as goods and money kept moving between the two, the rest could be worked out.

"Okay. Then should we head out in a bit?"

Stephen stood up and brushed off his pants.

"Want to make a trip to MacFarlane's Ranch together?"

"Sure. These old bones could use some exercise anyway."

Hosea agreed without hesitation.

"Just the two of us?"

"Just the two of us. That's enough."

Stephen didn't seem concerned.

"Who's going to be stupid enough to rob us?"

"Hahaha! They should be thanking God as long as we don't rob them."

An experienced old con man and a bounty hunter who could fight like a monster.

They actually made a pretty good pair.

"Let's leave after lunch."

Hosea dropped his cigarette butt onto the ground and casually dusted off his hands.

"Ms. Grimshaw is already making lunch. She's actually quite a good cook."

Ms. Grimshaw?

Cooking?

Stephen had been with the gang for this long and had never once seen Ms. Grimshaw cook.

That was usually Pearson's job.

Now he was curious.

He definitely wanted to try it.

When lunchtime came, Stephen eagerly went over to see what they were having.

The meal was simple.

Everyone got a golden fried fish, a large piece of dark toasted bread, and a bowl of fish soup.

Stephen had to admit that Ms. Grimshaw really could cook.

At the very least, everything looked appetizing.

The fish had been caught fresh over the past few days by Pearson and the others.

Ms. Grimshaw cut off the heads and tails for the soup, then fried the thick, meaty portions in oil.

The skin turned crisp while the meat inside remained rich and tender.

There was a slight earthy taste, but it wasn't enough to hide how good the fish was.

Stephen picked up his fish and took a bite.

The outside was crisp, the inside tender and juicy, and the flavor immediately filled his mouth.

The bread had been toasted too.

That part was much simpler. It had been sliced thin and placed directly on a hot stone.

The slices quickly turned dark on both sides, but they were wonderfully crisp when bitten into, and even the slightly burnt flavor worked surprisingly well.

There was also a large bowl of vegetables.

All kinds of vegetables had been chopped into small pieces, tossed together, mixed with peanut butter, and served just like that.

The peanut butter was rich and sweet, so eating too much of it would've been overwhelming.

But combined with the fresh vegetables and savory fish soup, it was surprisingly enjoyable.

After such a satisfying lunch, Stephen couldn't help wondering why Pearson was the camp cook instead of Ms. Grimshaw.

Nothing exposed bad cooking quite like having something good to compare it to.

Once he'd tasted this, how was anyone supposed to go back to Pearson's food?

After lunch, everyone went their separate ways.

Those who had work went back to it, while those who didn't found ways to avoid doing any.

Stephen and Hosea hitched the camp wagon and began loading the hides Pearson had prepared.

"Boss, you guys heading somewhere?"

Juan saw Stephen carrying hides and immediately put down what he was doing to help.

"Yeah. We're making a trip."

Since Juan had offered, Stephen didn't hesitate. He dumped the entire bundle of hides into his arms.

The weight made Juan stagger for a moment, but he gritted his teeth and managed to throw them onto the wagon.

There were quite a lot of hides.

Charles and the others had brought them back from hunting over the past few days.

There were all kinds, and Stephen even spotted two particularly nice fox pelts.

Those were rare.

He pulled one free and held it up beneath the sunlight.

The entire pelt was a fiery red. When the breeze passed through it, the long, soft fur rippled gently.

"Now this is good stuff. This should fetch a decent price."

Stephen knew almost nothing about hides, but even he could tell this one was excellent.

There wasn't a single scar anywhere on it.

It was practically flawless.

"I know that one. Charles got it."

Juan looked admiringly at the fox pelt in Stephen's hands.

"Charles shot it from a long way off. The arrow went straight through its eye, so the pelt wasn't damaged at all."

An arrow straight through the eye from that distance?

Stephen was impressed.

That was some serious shooting.

The Van der Linde Gang really did have some talented people.

"Boss, where are you guys going? Take me with you."

Juan grinned at Stephen.

"Staying in camp all the time gets pretty boring..."

He wasn't wrong.

Life out here was peaceful, but it could also be dull.

Every day was fishing, hunting, and an endless list of chores.

Juan was still young.

A young man his age wasn't meant to sit around camp all day.

"Then come with us. You can drive the wagon for this old man."

Before Stephen could answer, Hosea smiled and made the suggestion himself.

"An extra pair of hands won't hurt."

Juan looked eagerly at Stephen.

Stephen was still his boss, after all.

Seeing the hopeful look on his face, Stephen waved helplessly.

"Fine, fine. Grab your gear and come with us."

Making a young man stay in camp doing chores every day really was asking a lot.

Besides, with Juan there, Stephen wouldn't have to drive the wagon.

The moment Stephen agreed, Juan cheered and hurried inside to get his weapons.

With Stephen and Juan along, Hosea didn't need to prepare much.

He simply changed into a much nicer set of clothes.

"Where'd you get that outfit?"

Stephen looked curiously at Hosea, now dressed in a sharp suit.

"Buy it in Armadillo?"

"Where else?"

Hosea struggled up onto the wagon and settled shakily into the back.

He straightened his clothes and brushed out a few wrinkles.

"I knew I'd need something like this eventually, so I had the tailor in Armadillo make it for me ahead of time."

That crafty old con man really did think ahead.

Still, the outfit made sense.

They were going there to talk business.

They couldn't exactly show up dressed like beggars.

Juan kept things simple.

He changed into a clean cowboy jacket, slung a rifle over his back, and took the driver's seat without being asked.

Once everything was ready, Juan drove the wagon, Hosea sat in the back, and Stephen rode alongside them on his horse.

The three set off together.

"I checked the map. MacFarlane's Ranch is near the state line, close to the upper reaches of the Lower Montana River."

Stephen sat upright in the saddle with a map of New Austin in his hands.

"We just follow the main road east."

"I've heard about that place."

Juan called out from the driver's seat.

"When I first came here, I stayed with a countryman of mine. He was with the Del Lobo Gang, of course."

"He told me we should avoid messing with the people at MacFarlane's Ranch."

That immediately caught Stephen's attention.

The Del Lobo Gang didn't want to mess with MacFarlane's Ranch?

Stephen turned toward Juan.

"Did he ever tell you why?"

Juan shook his head.

"No. Back then, I was just some low ranking newcomer. I wasn't important enough to know much, and nobody was going to bother explaining it to me."

"But I remember hearing some of them talk while they were drinking. Apparently, the people at that ranch are hard to mess with."

"I don't know exactly why, though."

"Interesting."

Stephen's curiosity immediately grew.

Hosea was interested too.

"Sounds like this ranch may be more than it seems. Maybe we really did pick the right place."

Any ranch that could make the Del Lobo Gang hesitate was obviously no ordinary place.

Either the ranch had enough firepower to intimidate them outright.

After all, it wasn't just a ranch. It also had a leather workshop, which meant plenty of workers.

If all those people picked up guns, that would be quite a force.

This was America, after all.

And the West at that.

People out here certainly weren't lacking when it came to guns.

Could you really call yourself a Westerner if you couldn't shoot?

The American quick draw was practically a traditional martial art.

Those workers probably wouldn't do well if you dragged them out into an open battle, but defending their own homes was another matter entirely.

If the Del Lobo Gang tried to take the ranch by force, they might not be able to do it at all.

Bandits wanted money, after all.

Very few people genuinely enjoyed risking their lives in a gunfight.

There was another possibility.

Maybe whoever stood behind the ranch was powerful enough that even desperate outlaws like the Del Lobo Gang didn't dare provoke them.

Considering everything the Del Lobo Gang had done in Tumbleweed, that seemed less likely, though it wasn't impossible.

Either way, MacFarlane's Ranch might be exactly the opportunity Stephen and the others needed.

"That's right. Maybe this ranch is the key to us finally making some real money."

Stephen spoke with complete confidence.

"I've got a feeling we'll find what we need there."

"Maybe even more."