The Third Sundown

‘June 2026 Round-Up Challenge’
by janajinbc

I walked, well, rode, into their trap like a lamb to slaughter. Worse. I was downright eager, wanting to get involved in whatever was going on in town. As they closed in, rifles at the ready, it sunk in that I was involved alright, I just didn’t know how or why.

It’s been a dry spring and even drier summer, so Pa, Hoss and I decided to gather the herd from the worst areas in the south quarter, and drive them through Eagle’s Pass into the somewhat greener pastures of the foothills. There was still water flowing down from the mountains and would be for a while. Pa and Hoss had gone to arrange for supplies and hire a few more hands for the drive, while I was responsible for the gather. The extra hands and supplies showed up two days ago with a note from Pa. He and Hoss had been called into town to help Roy out with some kind of problem involving the Lassiter gang, and I was to carry on with the drive. They’d join me when they could. So I was stuck working in the heat and dirt and dust, wondering what I was missing out on in town.

I may have driven everyone a bit hard, but they were a good crew, and I was satisfied we’d gathered all the stragglers. We were ready to head through the pass tomorrow, a full day earlier than expected. My plan was to give everyone, including the cattle, a day of rest while I rode into town to report our progress to Pa and, incidentally, find out what was going on there. I’d be back and ready to move out with the herd the next day. I finished a quick bite of campfire stew and was saddling Cochise when a rider cantered into our base camp.

“I’m lookin’ for Joe Cartwright,” he announced.

“You found him.” I straightened, curious and a little cautious. Whoever this was, I’d never seen him before.

“I been sent from Virginia City. Your Pa and the Sheriff want you in town. They’re trying to put together a posse to go after the Lassiter gang and having trouble finding folks to help out.” He leaned casually on his saddle horn, as easy as could be. “Everybody’s scared of them since they shot the Sheriff.”

That brought us all to attention, but he answered before I could ask. “He ain’t dead, just sidelined a bit. Your Pa is acting Sheriff now, and they want you in town.”

I wanted more details, but I’d get them from Pa. Directing my foreman to carry on with the drive, I swung up on Cooch and nodded to the messenger. “You’re welcome to rest up, Mister, and get something to eat. I’m heading out now.”

“Nah, I’ll come along too,” and he turned his mount. We pointed our horses toward Virginia City, and were making good time. By sundown, we were just an hour or so from town, rounding a rocky outcrop where the trail narrowed sharply. A perfect choke point; a perfect ambush. And there they were.

Three men sat on horseback, rifles in hand, obviously waiting for me. I glanced back at the so-called messenger, unsurprised to see him grinning widely, blocking any retreat. He’d done his job well, delivering me right into their trap. I recognized Carver Lassiter, and Kirt Thompson, who’d been the foreman when the Lassiters were ranchers instead of bank robbers and killers. Guess I’d found the Lassiter gang. Too bad I wasn’t in a position to do anything about it.

Gesturing with his rifle, Carver ordered his man to take my guns. I waited until he moved closer and grabbed what might be my only chance. Booting him to the ground, I kicked Cochise forward into the narrow gap between Carver and Kirt, hoping they would hold their fire for fear of shooting each other.

For just a moment, I thought I’d get through, but I underestimated the final gang member. He’d pulled his horse around Carver’s, threw himself at me and we both ended up on the ground. I was on my feet in an instant and headed into the rocks, dodging bullets and wishing for the cover of darkness. Still, I had a chance and, relying on speed and shadows, I dove into whatever cover I could find and kept moving.

I could hear my pursuers calling back and forth to each other as they searched, like kids playing hide and seek. This was no game, though, and if I was going to survive I needed to be smart. Their shouts let me know where they were, and I could use that. If they got ahead of me, I could go back to the horses and make a getaway.

I found a low ledge of rock with just enough room for me to squeeze under, hoping I wasn’t sharing the space with a rattlesnake. Holding my breath, I choked back a cough as somebody’s boots raised a cloud of dust in my face as he passed. The shouting moved away, and I gave them a minute before I climbed to my feet and retraced my steps.

It was a good plan, just not good enough. Turned out they weren’t all chasing after me. Kirt was smarter, and a lot quieter. I froze, as ordered, when I heard the hammer click and felt his gun barrel press into my back. All I really accomplished was to make them mad. When they finally threw me up on my horse, I was barely conscious and only too aware that my ribs were badly bruised, if not broken.

It was a silent, uncomfortable ride, allowing too much time to wonder what the Lassisters wanted with me. There were no good scenarios. I was a fool, but I won’t be anybody’s pawn. Somehow, I’ll escape. My musing ended abruptly when I was yanked off Cochise and shoved toward the door of a ramshackle cabin.

End

Author Note: Episode Referenced – Five Sundowns To Sunup written by William L. Stuart