Summary: One minute he was standing there and the next, he was sprawled face down in the dirt….Booth Shannon’s thoughts after the shootout between him and Little Joe. The Trap.

Rating: T (for mentions of blood)

Word Count: 834

The kid’s fast, I grudgingly admitted to myself; his hand was a blur as he reached for his sixshooter. The weapon slid out of its holster sweet and pretty. Yes, he was fast all right; trouble was, while he was still bringing the muzzle of his gun up, I’d already pulled my trigger – the single shot echoed through the empty streets of Virginia City. He jerked as the bullet took him high in the chest and spun him around like a child’s top. One minute he was standing there and the next, he was sprawled face down in the dirt, blood pouring from his body.

Silence followed.

The satisfaction I was supposed to feel having taken my revenge on my brother’s killer never came. Instead, guilt began to pool in my stomach. He was just a kid, no more than twenty-one or twenty-two. He should have been chasing skirts and dreaming about the future, not bleeding out in the middle of the dusty street.

He killed Burk, I tried to remind myself.

But what if it really was in self defense? my conscience piped up, and for the first time since I had heard that my brother had been gunned down, I listened to it. I knew Burk better than anyone, after all I was his twin. We were mirror images, he and I, but only on the outside. Inside though? Inside, we were two vastly different men.

Would he try and shoot someone from ambush? I mulled over the thought. Burk had a jealous nature and if he believed that someone was trying to steal away something – or in this case someone – he cared about…yes. Yes, he more than likely would have done exactly that. My brother was the type to get hooked on a feeling and react without caring if his actions were right or wrong.

Suddenly, the boy’s father raced into view, the sheriff hot on his heels. When he saw his son he paused and slowly looked at me, his face was hard with anger. He soon mastered himself and dropped to his knees at the boy’s side.

“Joseph?” he whispered.

There was no answer.

As gently as he could, he rolled the prone figure over and felt for a pulse. When he found one, he carefully gathered the boy up into his arms.

“I’ll tell Doc Carver to get ready*,” the sheriff said, and scooted off down the street, back the way he’d come. Ben followed after him, the dead weight of his injured son making each step he took an effort.

“Cartwright, I didn’t want this,*” I told him as he passed me by, but he made no sign that he heard me. If he did, he didn’t care about what I had to say. And why should he? I shot his boy. I could have killed the kid; it would have been easy. Too easy. Just a little further to the left and I could have drilled him right through the heart. But I hadn’t. Something had kept me from taking his life.

Looking down, I saw the gun still in my hand. I’d always prided myself on my accuracy with that weapon, but for the first time in my life I was ashamed of myself. I’d shot an innocent man. Somewhere deep down inside of me, I had known he’d been telling me the truth all along, I just didn’t want to let myself believe it…until now.

 

That boy has some grit in him. A grim smile touched my lips. He had known full well how good I was with a gun and yet he had called me out anyway. In my many years as a lawman, I’d seen all sorts of people, but there was one thing that I knew for certain: a man would never stake his life on a lie. And Cartwright hadn’t been lying. He’d told me nothing but the truth all along, I just didn’t want to hear it until it was too late.

“What’s done cannot be undone¹,” I murmured.

The crowd that had gathered to see the shooting had finally dispersed now that there was nothing left to see.

Vultures. I shook my head. It was the same in every town.

Sunlight glinted off of something metal, catching my attention. There in the dirt lay an ivory-handled six-gun and a tan stetson. Beside them was a dark puddle of drying blood. I scooped the items up – avoiding the blood – and brushed the dust off of them.

Burk was dead. Hallie was dead. Little Joe was innocent after all. As far as I could tell there was nothing to keep me in Virginia City…nothing, except the items I held in my hands and a guilty conscience.

Squaring my shoulders, I turned and followed the path that Ben Cartwright had taken. In a month or so, Joe was going to need his gun. And here in the wild west, a man never went anywhere without his hat.

~ Finis

Author Notes:

This was written in response to a writing challenge on Bonanza Boomers.

All quotes with an asterisk after them are directly taken from the episode.

¹ “What’s done cannot be undone” is a quote from act five scene one of Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

Tags: The Trap, Booth Shannon