The Sense of Friendship 

2026 Round-up Challenge – July – 

By Marcella Petillo 

“Forget it, Candy, it’s not worth it.” Joe looked at his friend with concern, and what he saw in his eyes, he didn’t like. 
 
There was bad blood between Candy and that loudmouth, Tom Carson, an old dispute over money Carson had demanded but wasn’t owed, and it had never been settled. Candy was the one who was in the right, but Carson had never gotten over it and shamelessly provoked him every time he saw him. 
 
They had just walked into the Silver Dollar for a cold beer, and the last thing Joe wanted was a fight. From the poker table where he was playing, Tom Carson began whispering to his fellow players, who snickered and winked while looking at Candy. 
 
The provocation was obvious. They wanted him to see and understand that they were talking about him, that they were laughing at him. Candy started to move, and Joe held him back without making it obvious. They made their way to the bar, and the young Cartwright put an arm around his friend’s shoulder, turned his back to the room, and spoke to the bartender.  
“Hey, Sam, pour two cold beers for these two thirsty men! We’ve eaten so much dust you wouldn’t even believe it!” 

 His tone was friendly, light, almost cheerful. Joe’s hand slipped from Candy’s shoulder and was replaced by a meaningful look. 

Candy lowered his head and tried to relax. He drank half a glass of beer in a single gulp while Joe, his almost brotherly friend as well as his boss, chatted with Sam about this and that, trying to lighten the mood. He was grateful to him. He didn’t feel like throwing punches either after the long day in the saddle, driving stupid cattle to the new pasture, eating dust. 
 
Joe knew Candy was at the end of his rope as he listened to the laughter coming from the table behind them. That whole business had been going on for weeks by now. After Candy’s big win at poker, Carson had accused him of cheating and demanded the money he had lost back. 
Punches had been thrown, and they had all ended up in Sheriff Roy’s cell. 
 
Candy had proved his innocence and kept his winnings. Carson had been bitter ever since, and he had spread rumors about Candy’s dishonesty. His friends, loafers just like him, backed him up by feeding those rumors, and people who didn’t know Candy well…began to believe them. 
 
It was an undeniably difficult situation that was wearing Candy down. His patience was running out, and Joe feared the reactions driven by the anger of being blamed when he was guilty of nothing. He felt that his dignity had been wounded, and Joe understood him and supported him, but he was afraid for him. Someone was going to get hurt, and Joe didn’t want that someone to be Candy, who had been almost a brother to him ever since Adam had left to travel the world. 

***** 

On the way back to the Ponderosa, Candy vented to Joe, who listened in silence, letting him talk, curse—Pa certainly would have disapproved—and get all of his anger and frustration out. Joe also knew that, sooner or later, Candy was going to explode. They had to find a solution. 
 
He promised himself he would talk about it with Pa, Hoss, and Roy Coffee. Ben’s wisdom and Roy’s experience might help. Joe’s fists itched with the urge to give that idiot Carson a good beating, and he could already picture himself on a punitive expedition, together with Hoss—especially with Hoss—to make him lose the urge to provoke Candy. He realized on his own that it wasn’t a solution, but it sure would have been satisfying! 
 
For a week they were all very busy at the ranch, with urgent work and herds to move, but at last Saturday night arrived, bringing the Grand Ball in Virginia City. Music. Laughter. Rustling silk skirts, pretty hairstyles, and dazzling smiles. Men in their best suits, eager for conquests, competing with one another to catch the smile of a beautiful woman.  

Joe, Hoss, and Candy were no different, and they intended to dance with every pretty girl at the party. 
Dressed to the nines, the entire Cartwright family and their foreman arrived at the ball. The watchword was: Have fun! 
 
During a break to catch their breath, Tom Carson and his friends started provoking Candy as usual, but this time they found themselves facing the solid wall of the Cartwrights and Sheriff Coffee, who, without beating around the bush, ordered him to keep quiet or be thrown out of the party. Furious over the public humiliation, Carson swore he would get his revenge. 

***** 

Three days later, in the city, Joe and Candy had accompanied Ben to the bank, had left the grocery list at the general store, and had gone to the Silver Dollar for an ice-cold beer while waiting to pick everything up. 

It was an unbearably hot day, one of those days when sweat runs down your body even if you stand still and the dust sticks to you. Inside the saloon, the acrid smell of sweaty, unwashed men caught in your throat. Joe and Candy wrinkled their noses, but they wanted that beer, so they stayed. 
 
From a table in the back, Tom Carson’s hoarse voice, thick with alcohol, rose loud enough to be heard over the noise of the room. 
“There he is, the hero, the one who cheats at cards and then lets his friends defend him! Don’t you have the guts to face me man to man? You’re a cheat and a coward, Candy. Come outside, and let’s settle this like men!” 
 
The room suddenly fell silent; an unnatural silence, full of tension, but also charged with anticipation. Every man present fixed his eyes on Carson and on Candy’s back. He hadn’t moved, but the stiffness of his body spoke for itself. He and Joe looked at each other, barely turning their heads, a long look that said more than an entire conversation. A surrender to the circumstances, the need to settle the matter once and for all. Joe sighed and nodded. 
 
Candy’s body relaxed, and in one smooth, fluid movement he turned toward the room, staring straight at Carson. 
“Just you and me, outside, and we’ll finish this!” 
Candy stretched his lips into a smile, but his eyes were icy, and a shiver ran through the room. Everyone went outside into the street, and word spread in an instant. This wasn’t the usual bar fight; it was a showdown. 
 
Joe called over a young boy, put a coin in his hand, and sent him to fetch the sheriff. The kid took off at full speed. Meanwhile, Candy pulled a pair of gloves from his pants pocket and slowly slipped them on without taking his eyes off Carson, who stood facing him, nervous and swollen with rage. 
 
Carson was the one who threw the first two punches. The first was dodged; the second struck Candy on the right eyebrow. A thin trickle of blood ran down his cheek, but he reacted immediately and hit his opponent hard, making him stagger. Carson fought like an enraged buffalo, and his punches hurt, but Candy was more clear-headed. He knew how to fight and kept his nerves under control. 
 
It was an epic fight. Candy’s last punch sent Carson flying to the ground, where he remained lying, dazed. It was over. Joe let out a sigh of relief. Sheriff Coffee, who had just arrived at the scene, ordered the crowd to disperse and get back to their own business, but the excitement was too great. The men commented on the fight, giving Candy approving pats on the back, while he stood there, a little dazed, beginning to feel the blows he had taken, his face bruised and bleeding. 
 
It happened in an instant. In the general commotion, right from the ground where he had remained, Carson pulled out his gun and aimed it at Candy. 
No one noticed except…one!

Joe didn’t think; he reacted instinctively. “CANDY!!!” 
and threw himself forward, shouting, shielding his friend with his body just as the bullet reached him. The bullet, coming from below, dug a bloody furrow, traveled up his side, broke two ribs, and landed in the muscle of his right arm.

Joe staggered, crying out, then collapsed to the ground. 
Candy was beside him in an instant, panic in his eyes. He frantically searched through Joe’s clothes to see where he had been hit. A shot fired from such close range could have caused irreversible damage. He crouched on the ground and gathered Joe into his arms. 
“Joe!! Damn it! Joe! Oh, Lord, what have you done? GET THE DOCTOR!! NOW!” he shouted at the top of his lungs as he cradled his unconscious friend in his arms. 
 
Carson was subdued by the sheriff and a couple of men who were there. They pinned his arms behind his back and tied his hands, leaving him on the ground cursing. The sheriff’s worried gaze returned to Joe, lying limp in Candy’s arms. 

***** 

When Ben crossed the threshold of Doc Martin’s office, out of breath from running and worry, the first person he saw was Candy. He was sitting with his head in his hands, motionless, as if turned to stone. 
 
“Candy…” he called in a broken voice, looking toward the closed office door. “Candy…” he repeated, his heart in his throat. “What happened?” 
“It’s my fault, Ben! It’s my fault Joe is hurt! He protected me; he took the bullet that was meant for me! He stepped in front of me and got hit instead of me!” Candy covered his eyes. “I’m sorry, Ben… it shouldn’t have happened. I’ll never forgive myself!” 
 
Ben closed his eyes, offered a prayer to Heaven, and sighed. 
“It’s not your fault, Candy. Joe saw you were in danger and made a decision. He cares about you. You’re like a brother to him and a true friend. He doesn’t want to lose you. He acted on instinct. He would have done it for any one of us. That’s just the way Joe is!” 
 
The office door opened, and Doc Martin came out, drying his hands, his face tired and serious. He raised his eyes and met the anxious looks of Ben and Candy, waiting for news. Then he smiled. 
“He’s going to be all right. Joe is going to make it. It’ll take time, but he’ll recover.” 
Ben closed his eyes and swayed slightly. Candy dropped heavily into the chair and remained there, motionless, as though completely drained. 
 
Doc Martin went on. 
“It wasn’t easy. I removed the bullet from his arm, set the two broken ribs, and stitched up the long gash the bullet carved along his side. He’s weak, but he’s not in any danger of dying. He’ll have to stay in bed until I decide he’s well enough to get up!” 
 
Ben smiled. 
“Don’t worry, it’ll be done! May I see him?” 
“For a few minutes. He’s waking up from the anesthesia, but I’m going to give him something for the pain and to help him sleep. I want him to rest peacefully tonight.” 

Ben walked into the doctor’s office and approached the examination table where Joe lay with his eyes closed, pale, groggy, his chest and arm wrapped in bandages. 
He laid a hand on his head, gently running it through his hair, and Joe opened his eyes. 
“Pa?” 
“I’m here…” 
“I’m sorry…” 
“I know…” 
“Candy’s blaming himself, isn’t he?” 
“You know him…” 
“He mustn’t… I made the decision… I’d do it again… I couldn’t lose him…” 
“I know, and he knows it too. Now rest, Joseph, rest, my son…” 

The End