Summary: “The whole town’s plum full of yellow bellies,” I muttered under my breath as I prodded Chubb into a ground-eating gallop, leaving the disgraced major in the dust. Hoss rides out, determined to find Joe before it’s too late. A WHIB for the episode “Five Sundowns to Sunup” and a sequel to my previous story, “The Fifth Sunup” from Hoss’ point of view.

Rating: K+

Word Count: 699

Five Sundowns to Sunup Series:

The Fifth Sunup
Just One More Day

“The whole town’s plum full of yellow bellies,” I muttered under my breath as I prodded Chubb into a ground-eating gallop, leaving the disgraced major in the dust. It was enough to put a kernel of doubt into a body’s faith in humanity, watching as an entire community sat back on their heels and let a handful of outlaws run roughshod over everybody. The sad thing was that if we’d all banded together, we could have ended this nonsense in a heartbeat. The major was just one more in a long, long line of men who talked a big talk, but when faced with a difficulty such as this, couldn’t—or wouldn’t—follow through. You could almost smell the cowardice rolling off of him as he told me and Johnny that he wasn’t going to be riding out with us again.

 

Now, you’re bein’ a bit unfair, my conscience piped up. After all, the major had helped with the search for the past three days. It was only now as the fourth day dawned that his true colors started to shine through. He was a family man. I understood that—family always, always came first—and he’d lost a son to that no-account rotting in the jailhouse; but he had a wife and more children at home that could possibly become the next target of the Lassiters. Maybe if I had no skin in the game, I too would be quaking in my boots just like everybody else. Maybe…but, no. Pa’d bred too much spine in all of us boys for any one of us to give in when the going got tough. It was always, “Do what’s right, no matter the consequences.” I admired that about pa…right up until they took Little Joe hostage.

 

My knuckles whitened around the reins, and I could’ve sworn I heard that dadblamed cackling of Harry Lassiter’s floating on the breeze. He’d laughed and laughed from the safety of his cell after we’d gotten the news about Joe. Iff’n I’d had my druthers, I’d have knocked that smirk right off of his face…and then I’d’ve let him go. Joe’s life was worth a helluva lot more than that murdering skunk’s. But Pa would have none of it. Doing what was right was important…but so was my little brother. It was hard being torn between morality and what the heart feels is right, and I felt for pa. That was why I tamped down my anger at him, saddled up, and rode out every morning, looking for a gang that seemed to appear one moment, only to vanish into thin air like so much smoke the next.

 

One night. Joe’d been gone all of one night, and there was no telling what trouble he’d gotten himself into during that time. I knew that boy better than I knew the back of my own right hand. He’d not sit idly by and wait for that fifth sunup. And that worried me. Would the Lassiters even hold off for that next sunrise iff’n Shortshanks riled them up? Or could he even now be lying dead in some gully somewhere?

 

A cold shiver trickled down my spine at the thought despite the midsummer heat. One more day. Just one more day and then it’d all be over for better or for worse.

 

“Please, God, let me find him.”

 

As if in answer to my prayer, a gunshot echoed off of the sides of the ravine we were riding through, and my heart leapt.

 

Joe! Somehow I knew that that shot had to do with my baby brother. Squeezing my heels into Chubb’s flanks, I glanced over my shoulder at Johnny whose bay mare lagged only a few yards behind me. He had sand, that deputy of Roy’s, I’d give him that. It didn’t matter that he was all of eighteen years old, that boy was more man than most. His face was grim and he nodded at me when he caught my eye.

 

Gunfire exploded somewhere to our left, and the pair of us veered off onto a game trail in the thick scrub without hesitation, rifles at the ready.

 

Hold on, Joe, I’m a’comin’!

 

~ Finis

Author’s Note:

This story was written for a writing challenge on Bonanza Boomers called “Bonanza Ballads”. I was given the song title “Just One More Day” by Otis Redding and had to write a story based solely on the song title alone. This is what came to mind.