Sunday, January 12, 2025

Meet Ezekiel Wilson

 If you've read the first two books in my Laredo series, you're acquainted with the Wilson family and oldest brother Boone. Moses is the focus in the second book, but youngest brother Ezekiel comes to the forefront in The Birthright of Ezekiel Wilson, book three and now available for pre-order. The novel releases from World Castle Publishing on February 24, my first 2025 release.


Here's the cover:


The blurb:

At twenty-one, Ezekiel Wilson is a man, grown up after hightailing it to Texas at the age of fifteen. Although he’s a valuable ranch hand, Zeke is prone to fisticuffs and brawling, although he doesn’t drink. He has a fondness for saloon girls, however, until he meets a feisty Irish girl, Katie O’Neill, who is the sister of a cowboy he hires during a cattle drive. Katie is a healer, and although she lives with her aunt, who keeps a boarding house in Laredo, she soon comes to the ranch. Before Zeke can court her, he suffers serious injuries and must be nursed back to health. Youngest of the five Wilson brothers, Ezekiel longs to become a family man, although he misses his mother and brother back in Kentucky. When the Wilsons become owners of the ranch, Zeke realizes his family and the love they share are his birthright. With Katie at his side, Ezekiel decides he can face anything.

Other titles will include The Heart of Jacob Wilson and The Nature of Garrett Wilson and more.

The first two are The Legacy of Boone Wilson and The Endurance of Moses Wilson.


Here's the dedication and first full chapter from The Birthright of Ezekiel Wilson with pre-order links to follow!

Dedication: Without my beloved grandfather, Thomas “Frenchy” Llafet, the Laredo series and Boone Wilson would not exist. As a proud descendant of Daniel Boone, Pop filled my young head with tales of Boone, Kentucky, and pioneers! If he hadn’t. Boone might have had another name.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                            The Birthright of Ezekiel Wilson

 

 

                                                                         By Lee Ann Sontheimer Murphy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

                                                Chapter One

1877

 

 

            Less than a week after his 21st birthday, Ezekiel Wilson sported a black eye, a bruised cheek, and a split lip, the result of a bare knuckles brawl at the Out Of Luck Saloon in Laredo. Blood from his nose stained his shirt. As bad as he looked, however, his opponent had more injuries, and the consensus was that Zeke emerged the victor.

            He hadn't headed to town to fight but to play cards. He won more than he lost, and he saved most of it. Sometimes he smoked, but he never drank. In Jemima Wilson's household, whiskey had been for medicinal purposes only, and then in moderation. Something about the saloon drew him although he wasn't sure what. Gambling ranked high as an attraction, but he liked the ladies, too. The months he'd lived above the Out of Luck while Boone recovered from a gunshot wound had given him a taste for saloon life.

            In about six weeks, he'd be trailing cattle. It would be his seventh year, and maybe he wouldn't have to ride drag. Some years he had, some he hadn’t. Ezekiel knew it would be months of long, hard days in the saddle, sleeping on the ground, fighting weather, rattlesnakes, and disease. Grub would be far from the best and although there was a certain camaraderie about life on the trail, there wouldn't be any fun until the end.

            Last year, they'd switched from the Chisholm Trail, one he'd learned so well he bragged he could ride it blindfolded, to the longer Great Western Trail. Unlike the Chisholm that had fetched up in Abilene, Kansas, the Western trail ended at Dodge City. Although Abilene had been no place for the faint-hearted, Dodge City had turned out to be wilder, filled with more wickedness, and more ways for a man to find trouble. Compared to the Out Of Luck, Dodge was a sinner's paradise.

            "Are you fit to ride?" his brother Jacob asked, looking sideways at Zeke's battle scars.

            "I reckon so." His head ached, his face hurt, and he'd have sore muscles by morning. He might have cracked a rib, too, but he'd ride.

            "We won't get back to the ranch till after sunrise," Jacob said. "By then your eye will be swollen shut, most likely. Might be better if we just bunked in town tonight and set out first thing come morning."

            Although Jacob spoke with the voice of reason, Ezekiel resented it. He had a suspicion the only reason his brother had come along to town was to keep an eye on him, which was probably one of Boone's fool notions. Jacob hadn't played a single hand of cards, taken a drink, or flirted with a painted lady. He'd sat at a corner table and drank black coffee. He hadn't eaten anything, either. More than once, Zeke had wanted to tell him that he didn't need a nanny but didn't. He appreciated the company, although Jacob didn't seem to remember how to have any fun. Since Boone and Moses were both settled family men, neither ventured into town unless it was for supplies.

            "I reckon it would be," Ezekiel muttered with a long, drawn-out sigh. Riding in the dark of night wasn't a great idea, although he'd done it many times. "I confess I ain't feelin' my best. Boone's gonna whale away at me for not coming home, though."

            "He will, but only 'cause he'll be worried," Jacob said. "You know that."

            "He'll be madder when he sees my scrapes," Zeke replied. It wouldn't be the first time he'd come back from town with a black eye or bruises, and he didn't imagine it would be the last, either. "Alrighty, let's head for the livery. They'll let us sleep in the loft."

            The next day, it was close to noon before they arrived at the Double Deuce, formerly the Double B Ranch. They'd changed the name when the three Wilsons bought into the spread, and the name stood for four brothers – since Liam was as close as a brother to Boone. By then, Zeke's left eye was swollen shut, and his headache hammered his skull with the force of a blacksmith. All he wanted to do was go lie down for a spell, until his various hurts healed enough to stop paining. That was his plan once they'd unsaddled and stabled their mounts.

            As they headed for the one-room cabin that they'd built last year behind Boone's place, Boone stood up to greet them on his dog trot porch, his forehead creased with concern.

            "Where in tarnation have the pair of you been?" he asked, his voice more gravely than usual with worry. "Moses wanted to ride into town to find you, but I said to wait."

            "We spent the night at the livery stable," Jacob explained. "It was late, and we figured it was better than riding back in the dark."

            "Might not have been so late if Ezekiel hadn't engaged in fisticuffs again," Boone said, walking into the yard to face his younger brother. "You look like you've been trampled in a stampede."

            Although his tone wasn't light, Zeke's answer was. "Feels like it, too."

            "If you feel as terrible as you look, it's a wonder you're still above snakes. Best let Rachel tend to those wounds as best she can and get some shut-eye."

            That sounded like a plan and Ezekiel thought he'd got away without a lecture until Boone said, "Go on inside. I'll be there directly and you can tell me just what happened this time."

            Boone's wife, Rachel, gasped when she saw his damaged face. "Oh, Ezekiel, it must hurt.”

            Mima, his five-year-old niece, abandoned her doll to steer him to a chair at the table.

            "Z, your face is hurt again," she said. "Do you got the headache, too?"

            "I do," he told her.

            As her mother gathered some herbs and tinctures, Mima dipped a clean rag in water and used it to wash his face. Her touch was surprisingly gentle, and the cool felt good against his skin.

Rachel treated his bruises with some witch hazel and applied a little under his eye, careful not to get any into the eye itself. When she touched his side, he yelped, and with a sigh, she tore up some rags to fix his ribs, which he realized were cracked if not broken.

            She had some willow bark steeping to help with the pain, but before it was ready, Boone came in, followed by Moses.

            "How'd the fight start this time?" he asked, pulling up a chair and straddling it backwards. "Was it over one of the gals?"

            Twice before, Ezekiel had stepped in when one of Mary's fancy women protested rough treatment from a cowboy or, worse, a sheep farmer. To avoid shooting someone in cold blood, he'd stopped wearing his pistol on his hip when he entered the saloon and tucked it into his saddle bag instead. Swinging for murder wasn't part of his plans, but he couldn't bear to see a lady, even a soiled dove, roughly handled.

            "It was," Ezekiel said.

            Boone punched the table with one fist. "Kid, I've told you that those women can't be protected. It's not your place, and most of them don't want help. They're working girls and they know the risk they take. I fear one of these days you're gonna get worse than a busted lip or black eye. You need to keep your nose out of their doings."

            He'd tried and failed. Seeing a grown man slap a woman, even one of ill repute, hard enough to knock her to the floor or mark her face, made him angry. "Boone, this time it was Peggy."

            Boone's expression changed. "Oh, Ezekiel. She's a lost cause, and well you know it."

            He did but Peggy had been his first infatuation. That first year he'd been in Texas, just fifteen years old, he'd met her when Boone lay fevered and believed to be dying from a gunshot wound. Peggy had been about the same age as him, and when he'd first known her, she did no more than dance and flirt with the fellows. She'd been sweet and fresh, as pretty as a wildflower in springtime.

Peggy had been a friend and maybe more. Ezekiel had stolen kisses, ones he didn't think Boone even knew about, and he had dreamed of taking her away from the sporting life before it corrupted her. Instead, while the Wilsons were still living in the room over the saloon, Peggy had entered the oldest profession.

            They'd never talked about it, he and Boone, but his brother had to know that Mary, proprietor and madam at the Out Of Luck, had auctioned off Peggy's virginity for a high price. The once lovely young woman who had tempted him had become a hardened prostitute in the last seven years. She had aged hard, become jaded, and prone to using laudanum to escape from the daily grind. Still, they'd been friends once and so Ezekiel had always shown her some measure of kindness.

            He'd never gone upstairs with her or any of the women, although he'd danced with many and kissed a few. When a man twice or more his age had pulled her away from the piano where she played a merry tune, she had resisted, so the man had slapped her twice across the face.

            That was when Zeke stepped into the fray. He'd pulled the man away from her and punched him square in the face, breaking his nose with the first blow. Next thing he knew, he'd been fighting the man and his friend. He'd bested both in the end, but not without suffering damage himself.

            Mary had screeched at him and told him to leave, so he had. Jacob had trailed him out, and although he didn't join the fight, Ezekiel knew his brother had his back. If it'd been necessary, he would have.

            "I know, Boone," he said now. "I just couldn't bear to see her treated so. We were friends once."

            "I liked her, too," Boone said. "Not the way you did, but she was a spritely little thing. But she's made her bed, and now she must lie in it. Did she even thank you for what you done?"

            "No." Instead, she'd cussed him and tried to hit him.

            "You ain't no knight of olden times or a storybook hero like in the fairy tales," Boone said. "Saloon brawls get nasty. One of them yahoos could've shot you dead, and Jacob would have brought you back face down over the saddle. I ain't mad, but Liam might be, thinking your wild ways give the ranch a bad reputation. I worry, though."

            "I don't mean for you to, Boone."

            His brother came to his feet. "I'm aware. I got work to do and plenty of it, whether Sunday or not. Drink this willow bark and rest your head. I want you ready and in the saddle tomorrow morning."

            "I'll be there," Ezekiel promised. He would be, he thought, unless he died from the pain, which wasn't likely.

            Boone thumped his shoulder in passing. Moses lingered long enough to pat his arm with sympathy.

            After he downed the strong and bitter tea, Rachel coaxed him into eating some of the chicken and dumplings she had simmering for dinner. He ate a bowl, then retreated to the tiny cabin he shared with Jacob.

            It was one single room with a bed on either side of the door facing the fireplace. There were hooks on the wall for their clothes, and their gear could be stored under the beds. A table with bench seating in one corner completed the furnishings. The cabin, along with a small corral and lean-to barn for their mounts, had been built by the Wilsons after the partnership with Liam became final. Once Liam took on more hands, the space in the bunkhouse shrank. The additional hires were to help with the huge new project — fencing the Double Deuce with the new-fangled bob-wire that was all the rage. With sharp barbs–hence the name —it reminded Ezekiel of thorn trees or mesquite.

            Jacob wasn't a partner since he'd arrived with no funds to put into the project. One of Ezekiel's goals in playing faro was to save his winnings and then give them to Jacob so he could have a stake. His brother didn't seem to care either way.

            After sleeping much of the day, Ezekiel woke hungry and went to beg food from Rachel or Mattie. Rachel had made Boone's favorite meal, most likely to placate him. There was enough left of the chicken and dumplings for him, so he ate it. He lingered long enough to listen to Boone sing his babies to sleep, first Benjamin, then Rob, then Mima. His voice almost lulled Zeke to sleep, so he bade them good night and retreated to the cabin. Jacob was already in bed, asleep and snoring.

            He rolled a smoke and sat outside to enjoy it. As he did, Ezekiel reflected on his life. He still loved the ranch and what he did for a living, but he found himself lonesome. Two of his brothers had loving wives and children. Jacob had had both, still had three daughters who wrote a few times a year back in Kentucky. A photograph of them hung on the wall above Jacob's bed but he hadn't seen them in more than a year. No one mentioned his late wife, Sally Ann, as requested by Jacob but he still mourned her. He showed no interest in finding a new woman or much of anything but working.

            Ezekiel, however, had a hankering for a wife. Each time he watched the tender devotion that Rachel showed to Boone or the affection Mattie demonstrated in small ways to Moses, he longed for the same. Part of the reason he made frequent forays into Laredo was to fill the emptiness and to seek a woman. He knew he'd never find the kind of lady he would marry in a saloon, but he hoped for a chance encounter. Rachel had been a schoolteacher who took pity on Boone when she chanced across him after he was wounded. Mattie had come to the ranch to help her sister, Liam's wife. She and Moses had fallen in love, then married but not without difficulty.

            He had no doubt his brothers loved him. So did their wives, especially Rachel, because of their history together. The little ones cared for him, too, especially Mima, who had both his mother's name and her face in miniature. Ezekiel wanted a woman who would fuss over his hurts, who would salve them and comfort him. He sought someone who would encourage him, fight with him if the cause were right, and to sleep beside him in the long, solitary nights.

            By the end of April, he and Jacob would be trailing cattle. Now that the Chisholm Trail was not used as often, they would pick up the Great Western Trail at Kerrville. If they were still setting out from just south of San Antonio, there might have been a better chance of meeting a likely gal. He would be on the trail for months, and he doubted any woman he found in Dodge City at the end of the trail would be wife material.

            Once he crushed out his smoke, he downed the willow bark tea Rachel had sent home with him and applied some more witch hazel to his scrapes.

            Come Monday morning, Zeke was back in the saddle despite a few lingering aches. His eye, as was to be expected, looked even worse with violent purple and yellow shades, but he could see out of it. He had expected to be sent out to string barbed wire at some far boundary of the ranch, but instead, Boone had him working with the yearling horses. That suited him and left him time to think about where and how he might find a woman to love.


 Zeke links

http://books.apple.com/us/book/id6740248461

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=kOA8EQAAQBAJ

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-birthright-of-ezekiel-wilson-lee-ann-sontheimer-murphy/1146797649?ean=2940184545868&st=EML&2sid=NPR0051_Press_Author_Title_On_Sale_v1

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-birthright-of-ezekiel-wilson

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DS56QWN9

 

Here is the Booksprout link:

https://booksprout.co/reviewer/review-copy/view/194522/the-birthright-of-ezekiel-wilson

Great news! Google Play is now offering audiobooks. They have an auto narration program, and the books are of good quality. I’ve placed your book on audio. Here is the link:

https://play.google.com/store/audiobooks/details?id=AQAAAEAKYBEgCM

 

Here’s the link on Goodreads.

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/223353835-the-birthright-of-ezekiel-wilson

 

 


Meet Ezekiel Wilson

 If you've read the first two books in my Laredo series, you're acquainted with the Wilson family and oldest brother Boone. Moses is...