Shadow Of The Father

By Scott Howey

It was too late; the man had made up his mind and there was no turning back. Cowardice is a challenging thing to swallow, it's a tough diet and is hard to digest, especially when you're the one who instigated the fight.

There's time to argue and time to accept the harsh reality of a situation. Wilder had learned years ago its best to accept, because in the end, it is what it is and can't be changed through force. It is only when one tries to force their hand that problems occur.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Outlaws Publishing LLC
• Release date: May 11, 2024
• ISBN: 9798224872091

Scott Howey

Scott Howey was born in small town in rural Australia. He spent his youth traveling and working in a variety of jobs from truck driving to working with youth, before settling down into the education sector. He is the father of three daughters. Scott wrote his first western in 2017.

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SHADOW OF

THE FATHER

––––––––

SCOTT HOWEY

Copyright © 2017 by Scott Howey

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted, in any form, or by any means, electronic, mechanical, recorded, photocopied, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review.

The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copywritten material.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

This book may contain views, premises, depictions, and statements by the author that are not necessarily shared or endorsed by Pale Horse Publications.

For information contact: [e-mail]

Cover Art by Michael Thomas

Cover design by Outlaws Publishing LLC

Published by Outlaws Publishing LLC

May 2024

10987654321 

FOREWORD

As a publisher, a lot of stories cross my desk. Some good, some great, then of course there's some bad ones. Not often do I find one like Shadows Of The Father by Scott Howey.  

This story for some reason grabbed me from the first paragraph and kept its hypnotic spell on me from start to finish. I highly recommend you grab a copy of this book and enjoy it for yourself. I am eagerly awaiting the next book by Author Scott Howey.

Award Winning Author of The Traveler Series

J.C. Hulsey

Chapter 1

The sun’s warmth scorched the land as he swung the axe. The sweat ran more freely as he got older and though the work was harder, he seemed to enjoy it more. His back ached as he lifted the axe, stuck in the wood that had refused to surrender to the blows of sharpened steel wrought bare by the strength of Cage Wilder. 

Just as the axe was poised above his shoulder to lay what he was convinced was the deciding blow he saw the dust from half a dozen horses travelling his way. With all the strength, he could muster, he turned the handle in his hands and landed an almighty blow that broke the stubborn block of wood in two. He wiped the sweat from his brow and buried the edge of the axe into the chopping block to keep it sharp, and idled to the well to draw some water. He tried to identify the riders, but the distance was too great. 

Experience taught him that men didn’t usually travel in numbers unless they were bringing bad news or about to start trouble. The sun was at his back and as he drew some water to quench his thirst, poured some of the clear liquid over his head and gasped at the cool start the water gave him. Setting the bucket aside, he ran his fingers through his hair and shook his hands to repel the excess water. He walked back to the woodshed where he took his Colt.45 off the hook and fastened it to his waist, it was a good fit. He jostled the belt and the holster until he felt comfortable and stood in the center of the yard waiting for the uninvited visitors to arrive.

Almost instantly he heard his wife, Loretta walk to the porch, pause and then walked down the stairs to join him in the yard. She didn’t say a word; however, shared the same curiosity as her husband.  She was no longer a pretty woman as the trials and tribulations of life on the land had etched themselves into her skin. Loretta’s health had been deteriorating and though she looked pale and weak her eyesight held firm. She had no difficulty identifying the lead rider.  

Why, it’s Sheriff Doolan, she said.

The riders slowed and the dust settled as they approached. 

They stood still, though the tension didn’t ease out of Wilder, at least it wasn’t trouble, he thought, but the alternative is probably not much better. They waited patiently for the riders to yield their reins. As they drew to a stop an uneasy feeling descended upon the ageing couple.

Sheriff, Cage Wilder appeared relaxed, but the sheriff knew that the news he was about to share was gonna unnerve the man, dammit, he thought to himself, it would plague any man.

The sheriff caught his breath and watched his words, Cage, Mrs Wilder, he donned his hat to the latter; however, renewed his focus on the ageing gunfighter who stood ten yards away.

Cage Wilder was no longer a gunfighter, but he was a man with a reputation and reputations don’t come cheap. You either must make one up or earn it, and any man worth his salt, knew the way Wilder carried himself, that his reputation had been earned.

Cage eyed all the men, for he knew them well and the only time men of this sort, hardworking, clean, honest men ride together is when they were on the chase. He acknowledged them all with a nod of his head before he addressed his question to the sheriff.

What brings you my way Doolan? He noticed both the mounts and the men were fresh, as if they made a direct route to his ranch from Willow Springs.

Willow Springs was a bustling town on the northern banks of the Whispering River. The town sat on the junction of the Spring and Lachlan rivers as they converged into the fork that headed the Whispering River. As the rivers met they made an audible hissing sound as if the water itself was whispering. The water was smooth and inviting, yet its undercurrent was unpredictable, that’s why a ferry was set up to cross the wide river. It was known to the locals as Whispering Death for the lives it took each year.

Doolan eyed Wilder sincerely and noticed that the man had aged well and at five eleven, cast a larger shadow than his frame suggested. He certainly wasn’t as broad as the man they’ve come to see him about, but mistaking Wilder for slim pickings had brought many a man undone. 

They had shared the same dirt when Wilder wore a badge, but that seemed like a long time ago now. They were still good friends, which made the news he was about to deliver even harder. 

Loretta was a homely woman, not much shorter than her husband. A mighty fine cook and a god-fearing woman who saw the best in all creatures, even her son.

Doolan, you know better than to keep me waiting, he said only half-jokingly, but his gut told him, as it so often did, that the news was not good.

Brought out of his daydream the sheriff shuffled in his saddle, looked over both shoulders, but the men refused to make eye-contact with him. They were likewise dreading informing their friends what had transpired in Willow Springs the night before. He rested both hands on the pommel and cast his gaze from Cage to Loretta, who by this time had moved closer to her husband fearing the worst, and said, It’s Zeke, he’s gone and done wrong again.

Loretta put her arm through Cage’s and he could feel the fear in his wife and he felt the anger rising in him, but he managed to control it, as he had so many times before. A man doesn’t command respect by being controlled by fear. He never had respect for men that did and doubted he could hold his head high if he let fear or anger control him.

After a moment pause, Cage looked up at his friend and knew the news was weighing heavy, so commanded, what’s he done this time? Before Doolan could answer he added, by the way you guys are carrying and sitting those mounts I’d say it’s something mighty serious.

It was Deputy Jones that spoke up. He respected Cage Wilder, ex-lawman, but had nothing but contempt for his son, so he spat the words out straight. You know Maude Finnigan? She’s that little Irish girl Zeke has had his eyes on for some time.

The ageing couple offered nothing in return so he kept talking. Well, he tried to have his way with her and when she refused, he struck her and tore her dress clean off. Baxter, her fiancé, heard the screams as he was coming out of the livery and came to rescue Maude, but Zeke didn’t take too kindly to that and shot him cold. In the middle of the street, he drew his hog leg and shot Baxter in cold blood. Baxter never carried a gun...

Loretta collapsed at the news and fell heavily against her husband. Without saying a word, he scooped her up with his right arm in the crook behind her knees and carried her to the house. The men made idle talk, but stayed on their mounts for ten minutes until Wilder came out of the house alone. Cage had taken the opportunity to put on a shirt and walked methodically across the yard to the riders.  His mood had changed, he had suddenly appeared more intimidating than before.

Sheriff Doolan noticed the change in his friend and felt the venom in his tone as he said, Jones, continue. The deputy, unnerved by such a command, readjusted his hat and mumbled over his words before Doolan interjected.  

He then shot Maude, Cage; he just shot her, cold as the clay. The sheriff added, we aim to find him Cage and I know you’ll want him to swing, regardless of whether he’s your son or not. Tough as it’s got to be for you and Loretta, we want your help.

The gunfighter drew a serious breath, eyed the deputy and said ‘thanks for not sugar coating it Deputy, I appreciate an honest and straight tongue, he nodded to Jones as a sign of respect, but spoke to the sheriff. Thanks for the news, but what do you want from me?"

Zeke’s a wild one, always has been, but he’s your boy and we know he’s not gonna be easy to take, dead or alive.

I’d reckon you’re right on that account Sheriff and it may take more than six of you to do it.

Smith, aptly named since he was the local blacksmith, moved his horse level with the sheriff and said, we want your help.

You want me to posse with you?

Sheriff Doolan was beginning to feel the heat of the day, took off his hat and wiped his brow. "Yep, I reckon we do. We sign alright, but we