by
Beppina
Written for the September 2026 Round-up Challenge
The first thing I noticed was the silence.
Virginia City was never silent. There was always the clatter of horses, wagon wheels rattling over the street, voices spilling from the saloons, or the sharp ring of the blacksmith’s hammer.
But that evening, as I stepped from the mercantile, There was a silence, and the sensation that someone was watching me. I stopped on the boardwalk and looked up and down the street.
Nothing seemed out of place.
A couple of cowboys were arguing over a girl outside the Silver Dollar. A woman hurried past, her arms laden with shopping. Further along, a wagon stood outside the bank, its driver busy talking to someone on the stoop.
It was… normal.
I turned my head slightly and looked over my shoulder.
There, across the street, a man stood in the shadow of the hotel’s doorway. I couldn’t make out his face, but I could feel his eyes on me.
I didn’t like it. I’d learned a long time ago that trouble rarely announced itself; it waited until your back was turned. I strolled towards the livery, my hand resting on my gun, ready.
The man didn’t follow. Well, not that I could tell.
I reached the livery and found the place empty. The stable boy was nowhere in sight, so I saddled Cochise myself. I’d just tightened the cinch when I heard footsteps behind me.
I spun around, gun in hand. Nobody. Just an empty doorway and the fading light outside. I swore under my breath. Maybe I was imagining things. I led Cochise into the street and mounted.
I should have headed straight home, but I didn’t. Instead, I rode slowly towards the edge of town, wanting to see if whoever was watching me would follow. Something wasn’t right. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the man in the hotel doorway wanted me to know he was there.
I was about a mile outside Virginia City when I heard the shot. The bullet struck the ground mere inches from Cochise’s front hoof. He reared in fright, and I just about stayed in the saddle.
“Easy, boy!”
Another shot cracked through the twilight. This time, I heard it come from the ridge. I swung down from the saddle and pulled Cochise behind a clump of scrub.
‘Well, that certainly answers one question,’ I thought. ‘Someone wants me dead!’
I drew my gun.
The ridge was little more than a dark line against the evening sky, and I couldn’t see the shooter. That bothered me more than the shooting. I waited. Nothing.
Then a voice carried across the distance. “You should’ve gone straight home, Cartwright.”
I frowned. “Come on down here and tell me why I shoulda gone home.”
No answer.
I scanned the ridge again. A movement caught my eye. I fired as the figure disappeared. Cochise skittered beside me.
“Stay, Cooch.”
I started up the slope. Halfway there, I found what I was looking for. A rifle lay abandoned in the dirt, beside a man’s boot print. I crouched and examined the still-fresh indentation. The shooter couldn’t be far away.
I spun at a sound behind me. A pistol butt slammed into the side of my head, and the world went black.
When I opened my eyes, I saw a darkening sky, then a very tense-looking man sitting beside me, holding my gun.
“You’re Cartwright’s youngest.” A statement not a question.
I tried to sit up, only to be pushed back down.
“Don’t.”
My head was pounding.
“You’re the man who shot at me.”
“Didn’t hit you, did I?”
“No.”
He smiled without humour. “That’s because I didn’t want you dead.”
“Then why the shooting?”
“To frighten you.”
“Well, congratulations.”
He looked across our valley, the gateway to the Ponderosa.
“Your family owns a lot of land, Cartwright. Folks like your pa make enemies.”
“My pa has made a few. You’ll have to be more specific.”
He studied me for a moment. “There’s a man coming to the Ponderosa tonight.”
I frowned. We weren’t expecting anyone. “Who?”
“Name’s Fletcher. He’s carrying evidence that’ll put a powerful man behind bars.”
“And what’s he got to do with my father, or me?”
“There are men following him. Plannin’ to take you hostage.”
“Hostage? Why?”
“Leverage, boy. Leverage. You as a hostage will make sure your pa keeps Fletcher at the house. Then they’ll get Fletcher to spill his guts about the evidence he’s got.”
It all sounded complicated to me. Whoever Fletcher was, or whatever evidence he had, I had no clue. I’d never heard the name before and was sure my father didn’t know him either. I had to bide my time and see what else this man had to say.
“So why are you warning me? You with Fletcher, or the men after him?”
“Nope. Just returning a favour. I owe Fletcher for saving my life, but I don’t want to see you killed.”
“You don’t know me, or anything about me.” I was angry now. My head ached, and I wanted to go home. Nothing so far had made any sense.
“I know enough about your pa not to want him after me. He makes a good friend but a dangerous enemy.”
“So you are helping this Fletcher?”
“I told you no. The men chasing him are out of Reno. Their boss, he’s a high-up in the railroad company. Been taking big bribes, organised crime payoffs, fixing contracts… Fletcher’s got all the information needed to put him away for good.”
“Why’s he coming here?” I was still confused and rubbed the bruise on my head.
“Justice. Your pa’s known to be straight. Fletcher wanted to ask for his help. It’s also known he’ll do anything to keep his boys safe. Between you and the big ‘un, the men chasing Fletcher reckoned you’d be the easiest to grab as a hostage.”
I snorted at that. “I kinda proved them right.”
To my surprise, the dark-clothed man handed my pistol back.
“I’m sorry about clobbering you.” It wasn’t much of an apology. “You know what’s going on now. Go home and warn your father. Fletcher will make contact with him as soon as he can. I can’t do any more. I’ve repaid my debt and need to go.”
He offered a hand and hauled me to my feet. The ground rose to meet me, then flattened and stopped moving. I waited until the dizziness passed.
“This man, the railman… what’s his name?” I asked. “Pa needs to know who he’s dealing with.”
“Jackson. Steven Jackson. He’s very dangerous. Warn your father he’ll come looking for Fletcher if his men don’t find him first.”
He swung up onto his black horse. Both blended into the growing darkness, mere shadows against the scrub and rocks.
“I guess this is yours…” I handed him the rifle. “What’s your name? You know, for next time we meet?”
He gave a sarcastic laugh. “You gonna catch me one, boy? My name is Radwell. Jerath Radwell. I doubt you’ll forget that, will you?”
Within moments, horse and rider had disappeared into the night.
I leaned on Cochise for a minute or two, getting my balance and trying to straighten things out in my mind. Nothing really made much sense, but I would warn Pa and keep a watch for strangers riding home. With my head still throbbing, I climbed onto my horse. I uttered a silent prayer that I’d get home safely.
I hadn’t travelled far when I saw two shadowy figures riding towards me. Few men sit as tall in the saddle as my brother Hoss, and the other must have been Candy.
“Joe.” Hoss’s voice called out before I could see them. “We’re goin’ to town, you comin’?”
I urged Cochise to them, “We need to get home, Hoss. There could be a problem. I’ll fill you in on the way.”
As we rode home, I pictured Pa’s face when I told him about Fletcher, Jackson and Jerath Radwell. Hopefully, he’d boom and bluster for a while, then we’d come up with a plan.
We’re Cartwrights. If Fletcher showed, we would deal with it.
The End
Word Count 1356
General Audience
25.09.26
