Sins of the Father

By E.A. Steele

When outlaw Bart Granger, swore to a dying woman he'd spare her young son, he had no idea he'd end up raising the boy as his own. 

Now a grown man, Johnny must decide which path he will follow.

 Life gets more complicated when Stormy enters his life. A feisty young woman on a quest of her own.

A match made in heaven? Might be, unless she finds out it was his pa that murdered her family.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outlaws Publishing LLC
• Release date: May 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224485642

Book preview

Chapter One

A fitful breeze tossed a tumbleweed across the baked earth. High in the blinding sky a lone buzzard slowly circled; from the ground, came the mournful sounds of doves hidden in the sparse brush. A chorus of insects joined in—as if in song. Then, without warning, the peaceful scene was disrupted as a group of rowdy cowboys rode into sight. Their intrusion startled a gray jackrabbit out of its shelter, and the serenading immediately ceased.

The men pulled their horses to a stop, unaware of the commotion they had just caused. They slid from their horses, dusting themselves off. 

One of the men stepped down from the saddle and whipped the dust from his hat with a few hard blows against his chaps, I was just saying, he said with a broad grin, if I had shoulders as plump and as white as yours, why I’d show them off. I’d ride into town and get a picture taken of myself, and it wouldn’t be all stiff like neither. Why I’d have my picture taken in one of them long, flowing, off the shoulders dresses. The other riders burst out in appreciatory laughter, all but two, who were both sitting on their horses scowling with disgust.

I swear if you don’t shut your mouth, I’m gonna shut it for you! one of the men, Big Hoss, threatened.

Well, I’m telling you truly! I would, the man, Jed was enjoying the attention and had no intention of stopping. I’d get one of them dresses that shows off a woman’s shoulders, the kind that looks like a girl could shake the whole thing off with just one good wiggle. Why the kind Bart’s little woman wears would do just fine. 

Now by most people’s standards, Jed was an idiot. He never seemed to know when he had gone too far or said too much. However, as he turned to find himself looking down a barrel of cold steel, his awareness was sharpened, and he shut his mouth.

What did you say about my woman? Bart said with a deadly glint in his eye. He sat on his horse with his gun drawn. His men watched in silence. 

Didn’t mean nothing by it. Jed faltered. 

Bart hesitated for a moment, staring at Jed with hardened eyes. After weighing his options, he slowly lowered his weapon. He hated Jed, he truly did. He sighed with resignation. It was a troubling thing to find good help nowadays, he thought wearily. He looked around at his men and spat on the ground.

Chapter Two

Rachel Watson sat in the back of a covered wagon, watching a cloud of dust trail away under the hot sun.

Without warning, the driver stuck his head into the wagon and hollered, Ma’am, you might want to hold that young un of yours tight and stay down. Looks like we might be headed for some trouble.

Rachel was startled by the man’s words and wondered frantically of the danger they were riding into. Indians? Outlaws? She quickly began to pull out blankets and clothing, wrapping them around her sleeping baby. She reached into her bag and pulled out a gun. Although she shuddered at the thought of using it on a man, she would protect her child at all cost.

The desperateness of the situation was matched by the increasing speed of the wagon. She was thrown to one side as it lurched over a rock.

Cover your baby up and for goodness sake Ma’am, stay down! the driver shouted over his shoulder. 

Matt, why’d I let that woman come along? he yelled over the pounding hooves of the horses, Why? I should’ve known better!

C’ mon Lenny, short trip and all. Who would have thought folks would find out about the gold? Who could’ve known?

As bullets slammed into the side of the wagon, Lenny wondered if he and the others were about to lose their life over some blasted gold. The old man reached into his front pocket for a handkerchief and wiped the sweat from his brow. He was too old for this. He grabbed his rifle and steeled himself for what was about to come. He knew two guns were no match for the outlaws headed their way. Lenny knew how it would end. His only hope was that they would let the woman and her child live. 

He cried out in surprised pain as a bullet tore through his shoulder. The reins fell from his hands. In an instant, Matt took over, urging the horses on.

It’s no use, you know, Matt shouted as he held his bandana out to his friend; We can’t hold them off. We can’t outrun them.

Pull up, Lenny hissed through clenched teeth. His hand clutched the rag against his shoulder in a vain attempt to stop the flow of blood, Maybe if we give them the gold, they’ll spare the woman.

Matt replied by pulling back the reins and bringing the exhausted animals to a stop.

He helped his old friend to the ground and to the back of the wagon. Hearing the men, Rachel flung aside the covering and looked with horror at Lenny and his blood-soaked shirt.

I’m sorry ma’am, Matt began, but was stopped mid-sentence by a bullet. Without another word, he fell to the ground. Without thinking, Rachel leaped from the safety of the wagon.

No! she screamed.

She had just gathered him in her arms when she felt the bullet cut through her side, and she knew immediately that she was gravely wounded. The man slipped from her arms as she slid to the ground. She looked at the two men now lying dead beside her and moaned in pain as a blanket of dread softly covered her.

Oh, Michael, she cried, forgive me.

She struggled to remain conscious as she fought to draw her breath. She tightened her grip on her gun as she pulled herself up. Her baby was her only concern. She turned to face the men as they rode up.

We got ‘em! someone shouted. Rachel drew her gun and fired towards the sound. 

Damn! came a surprised shout, followed by the angry retort of a gun. The bullet found its mark and Rachel fell to the ground. 

The sounds of the horses stamping, and of rough men shouting began to fade. A shadow fell across over her face as a man bent down beside her. Struggling against death, she summoned all her strength. She reached for the outlaw’s hand, desperate to make contact.

My baby, she whispered, please don’t harm my baby. His name is John Michael Watson. Please remember his name. Through her tears, she met the man’s eyes. They were a cold, watery blue, not warm and reassuring like her Michael’s, like her son’s would one day be. 

Again, she tried, Please, she whispered, please don’t harm him.

Bart Granger shamefully met her eyes. There wasn’t any reason that the woman had been shot, and when he got to the bottom of it...

Please...swear, her voice trailed off in a mere whisper.

Bart looked around uncertainly, he didn’t see any child.

Unexpectedly her small hand tightened on his, You swear to me, sir, her voice rang out with authority, and her eyes looked straight into Bart’s cold soul.

Won’t no harm come to your young’un, ma’am, I swear on my momma’s grave, the man stuttered as he spoke, taken by surprise by the forcefulness in the woman’s voice. 

He watched as the life ebbed from her body. When she was gone, he dropped her hand.

Granger looked down for a moment at the young woman lying dead on the ground in front of him, and then rose angrily to his feet. 

Now who in the hell shot that woman? he demanded

That’d be Jed, someone announced, thanking the good Lord it wasn’t him.

Jed! the big man roared.

Jed walked out from behind his horse.

Yeah, boss?

Since when does the Granger gang shoot women?

She fired first, Jed said boldly, It was her or me. He met his boss’s eyes with no regrets.

Bart drew his gun and shot Jed through the stomach. The man stood still for a moment with a look of disbelief on his face. Then he dropped to the ground with a thud.

Bart glared at the men around him, I told each of ya’ll when you started riding with me that we’re not woman killers. I’d rob my own grandma, but I wouldn’t harm a hair on her head. Is that clear? The men nodded in agreement. The sight of Jed writhing on the ground was making quite the impression. 

Good! Now get the gold and let’s get out of here! The men looked down at Jed who was writhing in pain.

Ain’t no use to worry none about him! Now let’s get this finished and get gone! Bart yelled. 

The men jumped into action and began to search the wagon. The gold was soon located.

Unhitch them horses and bring them along. You men put the woman up in the back of that wagon. No need to just let her lay out here for the coyotes. Leave the men and that idiot Jed where they lay.

Soon the outlaws were mounted up and ready to ride. Then suddenly, for the second time that morning, all activities came to an abrupt halt as the cries of an infant filled the air.

Didn’t ya’ll idiots just check the inside that wagon? asked Granger incredulously.

We did, his man Richard answered. The men looked at each other nervously. They were all hardened outlaws, but every one of them was afraid of ending up gut shot.

Did ya’ll happen to come across a baby in ya’ll’s searching? Granger asked testily.

No, we didn’t, Richard again replied. He physically flinched as a growing crescendo of wails filled the air.

Well get back up in there and find that baby! Bart yelled in frustration.

Richard quickly jumped up into the back of the wagon. He emerged moments later, carrying a large basket. He held it away from his body like it was something to be feared. 

It had clothes packed around it. We was just looking for the gold. Richard offered as the crying continued.

Bart looked at the man with disgust. You was just looking for gold, so you missed a baby in a basket. That don’t even make sense.

It was covered... Richard responded weakly.

Just shut up and bring that baby here! Bart growled.

Richard quickly did as he was told. Bart stared at the red-faced baby crying in the basket and then reached in and scooped the little thing up in his arms. The men stared in disbelief as the crying stopped.

Well I’ll be..., one of the men whispered under his breath.

As Bart looked down at the baby, he thought with shame of the young mother who now lay dead in the back of the wagon. He had promised a dying woman to keep her child safe...and now here it was.

Damn! he swore under his breath. He would have to take the baby with him. What other choice did he have? Then he thought of Miss Ginger, white shoulders and all. A baby might be just the thing to persuade her into a life of domestication. 

A smile played across his thin lips. Son, he whispered to the baby, How’d you like to be partners. 

Richard, get back up in that wagon and get this boy’s things, blankets, whatever.

Are you serious? Richard spoke up, You’re going to take it with us?

Glaring at Richard, he yanked on his reins and angrily wheeled his horse around.

I’ve got somebody who’ll take care of this baby just fine. Just don’t you worry your stupid self that. In fact, if I hear one word about this here baby, somebody else besides Jed is liable to end up with a belly ache. Understand?

As Bart suspected, the men did. He turned his attention back to the child. John Michael Watson. That’s a big name. I’ll just call you Johnny. However, he knew he would never forget the name John Michael Watson or the way a dying woman had sworn him to spare her child.

Chapter Three

The White Elephant Hotel was well known to all the cowboys who made their living driving cattle along the Chisolm Trail. It was a two-story building, the bottom floor looking for all the world like a respectable residence, complete with lace doilies and well-dressed young women. However, it wasn’t the lace doilies that attracted so many cowboys fresh off the trail; it was the soiled doves that resided on the second floor of the establishment. 

Miss Ginger Adams was one of the main attractions. A beautiful woman with curly auburn hair, green eyes, and a charming smile, she drew attention wherever she went. 

As Bart Granger rode towards the White Elephant, Ginger sat at her vanity, brushing out her hair. She was startled as someone banged loudly against her door. Without any explanation, it was flung open, and a drunken cowboy spilled into her room. Accustomed to dealing with the likes, she stood up with a sigh, straightened her dress, and with one last look in the mirror, approached the man who still lay stretched out on the floor. She grabbed him under one arm, struggling to pull him to his feet. The cowboy was a big man, still covered in the stench of the trail. He stood on his feet as he looked around the room with beer blurred eyes. They lit up as they settled on Ginger.

"Well, hello to you. It looks like I’ve come to the right place’, the man said thickly. 

You're in the wrong room, sweetie Ginger answered with forced patience.

The cowboy stood leering at Ginger, his senses sharpening, This room'll do just fine. 

Ginger frowned; she did hate a mean drunk. You need to leave now, she firmly answered as she pointed to the opened door.

The cowboy stumbled over to the door, slammed it shut and then slowly turned around. I ain’t leaving just yet." 

Ginger stood her ground, I am expecting someone. You need to leave now. Believe me, Honey; you do not want to be here when he shows up, she angrily answered as she grabbed the doorknob.

I'm not going nowhere, the man slurred. 

I said you need to leave, Ginger said firmly. Her breath quickened as she recognized the danger, she was in.

With a quick lunge, the man grabbed her with bear-like hands and pulled her to the bed. Screaming was useless, and she knew it. Ginger fought back against his grip, but the more she struggled, the rougher the man became. Angry, she grabbed a vase beside her bed and smashed it against the man’s head. With a roar, the man struck her savagely across the face. Ginger lay still for a