The Legend of Bo Keap

"Mr. Keap, I don't know what to say. Who did it?"

"Well, this payment is for her. But it's also his way of getting out of the territory alive. I told him if he'd do the right thing, I'd let him live -- but he's not welcome around here anymore. I need to keep my word Lou. Knowing who did it ain't gonna undo it. He's already gone."

"I understand Mr. Keap. I'll tell her what you've done tonight. It won't heal her mind, but it will set her free to get on with her life. I've seen it more than I wish, but once a woman goes through something like that -- well, this isn't really a suitable way for her to make a living anymore. I've heard rumors about you Mr Keap. Looks like they're more truth than fable."

"I ain't no angel Lou. But when I saw you up there earlier, I shore thought maybe I was seeing an angel."

It'd been a long time since Lou felt tongue-tied. A smile and small chuckle broke the spell, "I can assure you Mr. Keap, I'm no angel. But maybe we can both agree we aren't devils either?"

"Well, I have my doubts about myself, but I don't about you -- you're too pretty to be a devil Lou. Well, I'm pleased to finally meet the famous Lady Lou. It's been a pleasure."

Bo stands and offers his hand to the lady. When she takes it, a rare thrill of pleasure tickles her. His strength is obvious, but his gentleness impresses her more. "Good night Mr. Keap. And do feel free to drop in again."

"Thank you Lou. I'll agree to drop in if you stop calling me Mr. Keap, and just call me Bo."

"Bo it is. Goodnight Bo."

"And to you, Lou."

The three men walk out in a way as to not be bunched up or crowded. Jess takes his place back on the platform. For all that just happened, the rowdy crowd never missed a beat and no one had any idea of the close packed danger sitting so close by.

Lou speaks to the keep behind the bar, then walks over to Jess and gives him a short run down of what just took place. "What do you make of that Jess?"

"I don't know much about him, but from the things I hear, what he done there lines up. There's talk around that sick children and miners busted and starving suddenly find a bit of coin or gold come their way. There's also been talk of a couple of big shots what suddenly backed off on grabbing a claim that ain't theirs. But I don't know what's just talk and what's fact Lou."

"Thanks Jess. Keep your ear open and let me know if something interesting happens."

"Will do Lou."

*****

Scene: 4 1893 -- Mid-Summer Almost One Year Later --A Road North Of Cripple Creek

The grade is always hell for the team of horses on this stretch of the Florence & Cripple Creek Free Road, the stage is packed full, the top rack overloaded and there's even some bags tied onto the sides of the coach. Nothing to be done except slow walk 'em and give 'em plenty of breaks.

It's at that one stream -- the one that cuts down from the east side of the road and crosses on its dash down to the valley below -- that's where it happens. It's not a big stream but it's always cutting the road. The driver is up top holding the reins and the two guards are on foot working the animals across the rough washed-out spot when they appear -- fore and aft, the masked men close in. Ain't a damn thing can be done but surrender. The guards on the ground are trying to keep the horses calm and the driver is up top holding the reins and staring down at the outlaws with sort of an addled look on his face.

"Everyone out of the stage! Now!" The shot into the air takes care of any argument. The horses, already frightened start acting up even more -- the so called guards can't do a damn thing but try to keep 'em from bolting lest the coach gets turned over. Three men and two women come out of the coach to stand in a group several feet from it as the horses are still adding to the confusion of the moment. The fear on the pilgrims faces and their bulging eyes bring relief to the masked men -- these are just simple folk and nothing to worry over.

"All you with guns, dump 'em on the ground. And please don't try to be a hero. We ain't here for you or your possessions. Just behave and everyone'll be on their way in no time."

Being the most logical and reasonable thing to do, the five frightened pilgrims do as they're told. The driver and guards however, find themselves disarmed, tied up and sat down on the ground near the others.

It doesn't take long after that. The outlaws dismount, ignore the baggage and any other valuables that might be had, but make quick work of the three locked transport boxes that hold the money and gold. As the horses settle down, four of the gang unhitch them and then tie them to trees down the road a good ways. Then, in what seems like just a moment, three gunshots roar through the quiet countryside, the contents of the boxes are transferred into saddlebags and the men are mounted and off up the grade and quickly out of site.

The commotion starts up as soon as the bandits are out of sight. Men and women 'a jabbering, one woman's in tears. Two men run impotently down the road a ways shaking their fists after the bandits. The driver and the guards stand off talking, trying to figure the next thing to do. In the end, it's decided to turn around and head back to Cripple Creek so the law can get on the trail. What with having to go down the road to gather the horses and back, re-hitch the team, get the stage turned around on the narrow road and get everyone settled it's well over an hour and a half before the sad bunch gets going back to Cripple Creek ... in the opposite direction of their intended destination -- and the gold they had been hired to protect.

***

"And you're telling me they didn't even search the passengers for cash or gold?"

"Yep, nary a one sheriff. They knew what they was after and didn't take long get'n it."

"You figure it was Bo Keap and his bunch?"

"Couldn't say for certain, but it was slick. Them boys had a plan and stuck to it. Not robbing the passengers is what sounds like Bo and his gang. Twern't a damn thing anyone of us could have done. You need me and the driver to go after 'em with you and show you where it all happened?"

"You and I both know there ain't a reason in hell to ride off after 'em. They're as gone as a dead man, a hundred places to hide. I'll go talk to your boss and tell him it's a waste of time. This is get'n to be an expensive problem."

The sheriff was stating facts. A lot of gold has been lifted by this bunch and Bo and his men do indeed vanish. One by one, or two by two, they break off, each taking a different course back to their hideout. By sunset they're all back together, splitting up the take and fixing supper.

The vast majority of the take is cash. It's best that way, easier to deal with. But on this outing, there's a lot of gold too, which is unusual since most of the minted gold is shipped out on the narrow gauge to Canon City. The freshly minted bars that sparkle in the light of the fire add a lot to the good cheer among the men. And just like it is with every robbery, Bo doles out the equal shares to each of the six men -- plus a separate seventh pile for buying good will from the locals.

"Okay men, in the morning it's the same drill. You go on back to your places. I'll get in touch when it's time for another outing. I know I say it every time, but the only way this milk wagon gets turned over is by loose tongues. Anyone spreading talk about our business is inviting a bad outcome from us who keep a tight lip. I've got people and ears in more places than any of you can imagine. So don't mess this up by spreading cash or words around ... and absolutely no minted gold, save that for your future. Let's keep doing that and we can all retire real soon and go our separate ways."

***

Since the beginning, no one in the gang ever figured out where Bo and his one most trusted friend, Tavasi, disappeared to after each outing. But to those with a keen eye for noticing, it probably wasn't more than a few days ride from Cripple Creek.

As the days merged into weeks, and the weeks into months Bo always found ways to visit the camps and the gold digs. He dressed as a miner, dirty and unkempt -- blending in but always watching, listening and learning about things most don't even see.

Applying common sense also meant that the larger group of men broke up for a time and scattered to safer places. But he and Tavasi always retreated to places near the Ute village of Tavasi's people. He and Tavasi had met many months before the two decided to take some revenge on the rich bastards that first pushed Tavasi's people away from their traditional lands -- and the gold underneath. Bo had arrived in the district already with a hatred for the rich and privileged even after all these years since one such bastard ruined his family. To this day, he blames old man Mansfield for everything that happened to his family. He and Tavasi meshed perfectly and a strong bond had been made.

And then; There's that one other person who's been trying to figure Bo out in the evenings after the saloon closes it's doors....

***

Scene #5: Mid Fall 1892 -- The Lucky Strike Saloon -- Lou And Bo Get Closer

Several months had passed after the first night they had first laid eyes on one another, that Bo Keap and Lady Lou decided to take some private time off from their every day jobs.

"I've been wondering when you'd make it back Mr. Keap. I'd almost given up on you."

"And what made you think I'd be coming back Lou?"

"You've got your skills sir... I've got mine. Don't you know we women have powers you men can't figure out?"

"I sort of figured y'all might, but no woman's ever admitted it. I guess Momma was right in warning me about women. I think it's in your eyes, I should have never let you look me in the eye that first night. What's to be done Lou? Am I your captive for life, or just for tonight?"

"Let's start with just tonight Bo, and we can see where it' goes." Holding her hand out for him to take, "Come Bo, let's go up the back stairway to my private rooms."

As the door to her home closes, she turns to him. "Welcome to my humble abode." The moment after Lou's words pass over her lips, she turns and presses them to the chapped lips of the man who has captured her imagination.

Reality is always so much better than imaginings, and Bo's gentle touch along her spine strums a comforting chord deep inside of her core. The life she's led isn't marked by many such men, he's justification for the little hope she's been able to hold on to. It's been years since she had the need to sell her body, thankfully that's all in the past. But satisfying her very real desires always eludes her grasp and since that first night when he gave her the gold for Angelie she's entertained many thoughts about him. His lips on hers finally confirms and reinforces those thoughts ... or were they dreams ... or were they hopes?

Bo doesn't so much break their kiss as he does move it. First to the corner of her mouth, then to a place on her jaw before sliding down to the side of her neck. Standing up straight again, he scoops her into his arms and carries her to the bed and gently lays her down. Bending to kiss her one more time, the knock on the door stops him -- his hand instinctively dropping to his gun!

"Supper Miss Lou."

They both chuckle and he offers his hand to help her up as she says, "Come Ming, the door is open."

Ming prepares the table, then asks, "Anything else Miss Lou?"

"Have one of the men bring some warm wash water when you come back for the dishes Ming. I think that'll be all."

"Shall we?" Bo asks, pulling her chair out and holding it for her.

It's obvious that he is not your average outlaw, and she is more curious about him than she prefers. "So, where do you come from Bo? We're all new comers here, my last home was in St Louis."

Her question is one he's guarded against. Being a ghost has kept him safe. Trusting his gut, he tells her, "Texas, down north east of San Antone'. My folks gave a good try at ranching, I figure that except for a greedy neighbor they'd of made good. I buried them and been rambling around ever since."

"I'm sorry to bring up bad memories Bo."

No harm done Lou. It was a long time ago. And how 'bout you? Where did you start this journey?"

That memory is too hard to open -- maybe one day it can be told ... "Oh, another time Bo, let's eat before this gets cold."

***

When Ming comes back, he watches as his man from the kitchen pours the three buckets of hot water into the tub that sits behind the screen in Lou's bedroom. Two full buckets of unheated water are brought in and set down beside the tub so Lou can temper the bath to suit her. "Anything more Miss Lou?"

"Not now Ming, thank you. I'll pull the bell cord if I need you."

With that, Ming has the man collect all of the dirty dishes, puts the left over food into his basket and is off to other tasks -- Lou turns to Bo. "I've already had my bath earlier Bo; can I interest you in a nice hot relaxing soak?"

"That sounds mighty tempting Lou. It's been awhile, and in case you're wondering; the water in the streams around here is anything but warm and relaxing."

"I have heard mention of that. You poor man, here -- let me get this shirt unbuttoned...."

After opening the buttons, Lou steps back and watches as Bo strips the remaining garments from his body. Lou's seen more than her share of naked men, and it was always awkward when the clothed man looked better than the naked man. But in Bo's case, she could see that's not going to be a problem. His broad shoulders taper to a lean torso, his nipples are large and dark sitting on a strong defined chest. The rippling muscles of his stomach and the trail of dark hair tempts her eyes downward to the significant bulge below his belt. "Shall I help you with the rest Bo?"

"I wouldn't stop you Lou."

For a lady like Lou, the body of a man is no longer enough of a mystery to be the fuel her fire needs to get going. No, it takes something more ethereal -- something more finely tempting and unknown, even though her fire had been kindled the first time she laid eyes on him. That fire had smoldered in a lack of oxygen. But little by little, over the weeks and months of her imaginings about Bo, life had been blown into her fire -- his words and his confidence -- his gentlemanly ways had fanned the small flame from their first shared words. In those six months when he was away, Lou's imagination filled in the spaces of unknown details. And yet, he is still an enigma -- a mystery and a challenge that she spends many idle thoughts on.

Bo watches Lou's face as her hands work the belt and buttons of his clothes loose. He bends to remove his boots and socks. Then with one fluid flourish, she lowers the heavy denim pants and lighter half-length drawers down to the floor. Kneeling, Bo's heat and manly scent washes over her -- it's a blend of saddle leather, sweat and that distinct aroma of a virile man. She closes her eyes and absorbs the manly aphrodisiac -- then feels herself moisten in anticipation. But she's been thinking about this moment for too many lonely nights -- there is too much need built up and pent up within to remain blind and when she opens her eyes again, Lou can plainly see that which the bulging denim had foreshadowed. He's not yet fully erect -- but full and swollen thick, his sack hangs loose -- his potency unquestioned. She looks up to find Bo smiling down at her.

"I think I best get in that tub before we do that, don't you?"

He had read her desire like a book, a smile grows as she surrenders her tendency to be the one in control -- it's a rare and wonderful surrender. "I think that was the plan Mr. Keap. Settle in and I'll bathe you." She remains rooted on her knees watching his every move.

As Bo settles into the warm water, it's like a rope snapped as his muscles relax and the big sigh empties his lungs. When Lou shuffles on her knees to the side of the tub, he lays his head back and lets her minister to his body with soft, soap slickened, hands. The softness of those hands is like a balm and his eyes close as he relaxes in a way so very rare.

After wetting down his upper body, she starts with his face while the water is still fresh and pristine. Dampening the cloth and a dab of soap, she gently washes his shoulders, chest and arms. With a pitcher, she dips into the water and wets down Bo's hair -- using just her fingers and some soap she cleans and massages his scalp, then spends some time on his face and closely trimmed beard -- jet black like the shoulder length hair of his head -- like the hair on his chest that trails down to the rest.

"I don't think anyone's washed my hair since I was just a brat. I could get used to this Lou."

She looks intently at his face now that his eyes are closed -- memorizing every detail, every small scar and every bone. "I often have one of the other women wash mine. It is so much easier and also very relaxing. Just relax and let me pamper you Bo. Your work is later, after the bath."

With hair washed and rinsed, the time has come for the even more enjoyable part of her chore. Now, with bare hands and soap, Lou begins at his neck and works downward over his chest, letting the tips of her fingers glide over the ripples and rolling over the raised mounds of muscles. Distracted, she runs her soapy fingers back up to wash the dark brown manly nipples that stand up hard in the coolness of the room. Skipping the middle ground for later, Lou shuffles on her knees to the far end of the tub and carefully washes each leg, each foot and each toe.

"I think that just leaves your back Bo." Lou stands and picks up a small pitcher then walks to the far end of the tub -- and kneels once again. "Lean forward Bo, and I'll take care of your back." With her eyes on him she takes in other scars and the strength so plain to see, she dips and pours several pitchers of the warm water over his skin. Then once again her soapy hands go to work, this time with more vigor and pressure to knead the knotted muscles while also washing every square inch.

Finally there's nothing else left that she can reach, "I think you'll have to stand up out of the water so I can finish."

Bo does as she asks and stands facing her. There is no longer any half measure in his erection. He is on full display and just a foot away from Lou's face.

The lovely dinner, the genteel conversation, the way he carries himself -- all of these focus into something Lou rarely experiences in life anymore, a true attraction to a man. And now she wants to finish washing him so she can lay under him as they let their bodies express what their words can not.

With soapy hands she cups his sack and gently, ever so gently, washes him. She holds the weight of his sex in her hand as she washes the length of his firm shaft and the soft smooth bulb again and again -- knowing it will all soon be in her mouth -- in her own body. And all the while Bo gazes down on her as the fingers of one hand gently stroke through her auburn curls.

"Turn around and I'll be done."

Bo had stopped taking orders from anyone a long time ago, but Lou's orders are a different matter. Not that they really are orders. But tonight, her wishes will be his to fulfill.

He stands still as she rewashes the top of his thighs, higher and higher until her hands are once again in what might be the spot his Momma had called his private places. Lou is thorough in her task -- she spreads his butt and makes sure his crevasse is as squeaky clean as the rest.

With her ministrations complete and Bo rinsed clean of all the soap so lovingly applied, Lou holds the towel open for him. He steps over the rim to the soft little rug next to the tub and surrenders himself to Lou's care.

First she has him bend his head down so she can dry his hair, then pats down his back. As she moves closer, she cups his muscled butt in both hands -- the only thing separating them is the thin cloth of the towel. On her knees again, her face only inches away from him, she can't resist the two kisses she offers. The kisses are soft and almost reverent, the tingling racing downward in her lower abdomen both surprises and thrills her. More urgent now, she quickly dries Bo's legs and feet then stands up behind him.