To the Rescue

2026 February Round-up Challenge

By ajinbc

Ben

I awakened slowly to the welcome aroma of coffee and the sizzle of frying bacon. I could hear Joe murmuring to Buck and Cochise as he fastened on their feed bags and glanced over to see Cochise nuzzling into Joe’s chest, asking for and receiving the affection they both valued.

Securing my bedroll, I made my way upstream for morning ablutions before greeting Joe and digging into the breakfast he had prepared. We were three days into our trip, responding to a message from an old friend who asked for help, but gave no details.

Travelling with Joe is always an adventure and never a straight journey from A to B, as it would be if I were with Adam. Or Hoss, for that matter. But while Hoss’ delays usually involve rescuing strays or ensuring meals are timely and substantial, Joe’s detours typically involve entertainment of some sort, like our unscheduled stop yesterday afternoon at a tempting fishing hole. I love spending time together with all my sons, but spending time with each, alone, is a rare treat, and this trip with Joe is no exception.

Our lunch stop was brief; we watered the horses and allowed them a short rest while we consumed leftover biscuits and bacon. Vaulting into his saddle and already planning his afternoon, Joe waited while I mounted more conventionally.

“Two, three hours to Stanleyville, right, Pa?” Joe asked. “A nice, cold beer will sure hit the spot!”

“I’ve no doubt there is a cold beer somewhere in your future, Joseph, but the Full Circle Ranch is this side of Stanleyville, and we should stop there first. Find out what Dan Hicks wants from us. We can go into town later to get rooms and supper—maybe even your beer.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Two hours later, the unmistakable rattle of gunfire caused both Joe and I to rein our horses to a standstill. We listened intently for a moment, then set off toward trouble at a dead run. I could think of no innocent explanation for that kind of gunfire at the Full Circle Ranch, and that was where it had to be coming from.

As we closed in, I threw up my hand as a signal to slow our approach and continue with more caution, reluctant to charge in blindly. Joseph was of a different mind, however, which shouldn’t surprise me. He’s been barreling headfirst into trouble ever since he learned to walk. Resigned, I kicked Buck into a run and joined Joe in a race to the rescue.

We saw two men sheltered behind the barn, shooting at the ranch house. A third man appeared to be readying a torch, apparently aiming to toss it into the open hayloft. Shouting and shooting, we bore down on them, and they whirled to face us. The shock of our sudden appearance was likely as effective a deterrent as any threat we represented. Gunfire from the back of a running horse is rarely accurate, and I was more intent on running them off than hitting anyone. I saw the torch-wielder grab his arm, dropping the torch as he did so, and realized Joe’s aim was more intentional.

Abandoning their attack, all three ran to their horses and fled. Despite my shouted order to stop, Joe chased after them while I ran to put out the fire ignited by the dropped torch. From the corner of my eye, I saw Dan Hicks run from the ranch house to join me in stomping out the small fire.

It was past time to find out what kind of trouble we had gotten involved with.

Joe

I heard Pa shout at me to stop, but paid no heed. I didn’t really plan to chase them down, but I could keep them moving and make sure they didn’t double back. The two in the lead were well away, but the one I’d winged wasn’t. In fact, his bay’s gait was off, and the horse was slowing in spite of the rider’s efforts to get him running again.

Knowing it was reckless didn’t stop me from trying. It never did! I’d be in trouble if the two in front turned back, but I wanted to catch that would-be arsonist. He’s the one who made me mad. The animals in that barn wouldn’t have stood a chance if fire took hold in the hayloft.

Urging Cochise on, I was soon close enough to shout, “Give it up!” I should have been prepared, should have had my gun ready, and should have expected a fight. In the split second between seeing the gun in his hand and feeling the burn of the bullet, I heard echoes of my brothers’ voices condemning my impulsiveness and inability to think before I acted.

I was already in motion, though, and launched myself off Cochise, plowing into the other man and knocking us both to the ground. Fortunately, his gun went flying as we landed. We rolled around for a bit until I managed to twist his wounded arm behind his back, and the fight went out of him.

Satisfaction turned to heart-dropping alarm at the drum of approaching hoofbeats. Likely his friends were coming back! I hauled my prisoner in front of me as meagre cover and turned to face this new threat.

Ben

With the fire completely extinguished, I took a minute to catch my breath. My hope that Joe intended only a show of pursuit had faded. There was no sign of his return, and I was anxious to go after him.

I listened to Dan’s story while I fetched and watered Buck, and Dan saddled his horse, a big black. Neighbouring ranchers were being coerced to sell out, he said, and his request for help was a precaution. Dan wanted the two young grandchildren he was raising to be safe, hopefully taken to the Ponderosa, while he concentrated on fighting for his ranch. Until today’s attack, pressure had not included violence.

It was a familiar story, and I would do what I could to help. First, I needed to find Joe, and the echo of gunfire increased my sense of urgency.

From a distance, I could see two men rolling on the ground, two horses sidling nervously around them. Joseph rose to his feet, pulling the other man in front of him as he whirled to face us, gun in hand. Clearly relieved to see me, he holstered his pistol and offered a sheepish smile. I swallowed my lecture on the foolishness of his actions when I saw Joe’s blood-soaked shirt sleeve.

While Dan took charge of Joe’s prisoner, I focused my attention on Joe’s right arm. “How bad is it, Son?“

Joe shrugged. “Just a crease, Pa, don’t worry. I’d forgotten all about it until just now.”

I had to check for myself, but Joe was right. Still, I knew it was painful, so I held off any recriminations, simply tying a clean handkerchief around it to stop the bleeding while we made our way back to the house.

Further help at the Full Circle was unnecessary. The local sheriff, apprised of the situation, convinced the young arsonist to identify both his cohorts and the man who instigated the entire plan. With that situation under control and Joe’s arm properly attended to, we were free to visit with Dan and his family for a few days, but both of us were ready to get back to the Ponderosa. Or so I thought!

Joe lounged by the campfire on our first evening on the trail. “So, Pa,” he started, “we should pass that sweet little fishing hole tomorrow afternoon. Perfect time for a siesta and some fishing, don’t you think? Oh, and Tom Shaw’s horse ranch isn’t too far out of the way. We should stop by and see if he has any of those Appaloosa colts for sale…”

The End