The Legend Of Bo Keap

The Legend Of Bo Keap - Outlaws and their women in the old west

Category: Romance

Tags: western romance, love story, outlaws, saloon girls, gold mines, greedy rich men

Author's Introduction:

First; There are not many ready-made Literotica search tags for this story. Therefore, to offer some guidance here are some that give a hint about what this story is all about; period romance late 1800's; western romance; love story; outlaws; saloon women; gold mines; corrupt politicians; greedy rich men; Cripple Creek Colorado,

This is a longish story, a Western Romance; I estimate the length to be 7 or 8 pages on Literotica. It is a tale of the days when gold was discovered in the area in Colorado Territory that is best known as Cripple Creek. But this western is, thanks to Literotica, one that can include the intimate scenes that most westerns gloss over. It's a tale of outlaws, indigenous people, brothels, corrupt gold barons and the even more corrupt lawmen and politicians. But it is after all just a yarn. The area in which the story takes place is one I know well. Is it just my imagination that the trails, forests and canyons of that place in those wild times were filled with outlaws -- or could it be true? I hope you can believe it's all true as you ride along with Bo and his men while they balance good and evil in the choices they make.

Note; Since there are sixteen shorter scenes to this longer story; For those who don't have the time to read it all in one sitting, I've tried to make it easier to keep track of where you stop -- I have labeled each part with the scene number to jot down where you are in the story.

This story is published exclusively on Literotica.com and should it appear on any other venue it has been stolen.

*****

Scene 1: 1877 -- Central Texas Northeast of San Antonio

The politics and whys of adults were beyond the grasp of a 17 year old lad. All he knew is that hard work and luck are what would make their ranch pay off. Papa always said that good honest work and sticking with it was what paid off in the end. And Bo liked to work hard. Him and his Papa had done it almost all by themselves. They couldn't afford hired help yet, but one day -- one day they could sit back and let the place take care of them all -- that's what Papa said.

It took most of a year to cut, shape and place the fence posts and split rails that encircled their small piece of God's gift to man. Mama taught Bo and his younger sister Kathryn their letters and their numbers at night, after supper and after another long hard day of work.

The new-fangled barbed wire might as well have been diamond necklaces for the price they were asking. So it was posts and rails -- miles of rails cut and split by hand. Thankfully, when the time came to put up the rails they had some beef to barter in exchange for the labor of a neighbor's two sons. Bo and the other two young men swung the heavy mauls from sun-up to sun-down for many weeks. But finally their property was fully fenced and all they needed now was some more cattle.

It was a hopeful time. The war between the north and the south was fading in people's memories. People were looking forward -- and so too was the Keap family ... life was finally looking like it was smoothing out.

Bo was the one with a knack for horses, it wasn't even really a chore to care for them, get 'em bred and foaled -- then train the young ones. He loved working with them and caring for their needs. Some he'd train just enough to sell, the ones they kept, he spent more time on. They already had a few cattle and a good bull. It wasn't enough to make a living on, but it was a start and kept their own table well served. All in all, it seemed they had made it over the hump and were on the downgrade now.

They came in the middle of the night. The moon was dark and the only light was from the torches the mounted men held. Bo held his cap and ball rifle tight as he knelt behind the wall under the front window. Papa went out with a double barreled shotgun to see what these men wanted. "What in the name of God are you men doing here? Don't get fancy, this scattergun'll take out at least two of you and you probably can't see the two rifles aimed at you from the house. Speak up and do it fast."

"We're here to give you fair warning Keap; You're trespassing and squatting on another man's land. Our boss just wanted to give you a chance to clear out before things get ugly -- and before he takes you in front of the judge."

"You go tell your boss, whoever he is, that he's lost his mind. I've papers clean and clear that says this is my property. Now you'uns git, before someone gets hurt."

"You've been warned Keap. We'll mosey on but you best get packing 'cause you don't know who or what you're up against."

"Get! And don't come back -- next time there won't be no talking."

Never had they experienced such a thing. Yet, after a few days of quiet, life eased back into a normal routine. The weeks passed and everything seemed back to normal.

The next unannounced visit came from the County Sheriff and two deputies. They had papers and flung around a bunch a legal sounding words. Since there was no way to shoot or bluff their way out of this confrontation, Bo's papa sat down with them under the big live-oak tree out front and tried to talk things out while the rest of the family sat on the porch watching.

After almost an hour of back and forth, the three lawmen mounted up and rode out.

The sag in Papa's shoulders telegraphed that the news was not good.

"What is it Henry, what did them men want?"

"Those men don't want nothin'. But they toady-up to the ones who do -- that rich bastard Mansfield claims he's got papers on this land from before we were here. The Sheriff's a bought and paid for bastard, but he did spit it out in plain words; If we want this land, we'll have to fight it out in court. He spoke the truth when he said it was unlikely we could afford to pay a lawyer to fight off a man like Mansfield. I figure I'll ride in and have a talk to the judge or somebody and see what we can do."

The days turned into weeks and the weeks turned into months. It was just a big runaround trying get someone at the courthouse to give a damn. Then, one Sunday in late fall a strange man rode up to the house. The dogs had already warned us, so Papa went out with his shotgun and Bo hid by the window with his rifle. This man had the look of danger about him. He wore two modern handguns crisscrossed about his waist.

"I know what you want -- we ain't leaving."

The man was calm ... too calm. "Look Mr. Keap, I don't want no trouble. But you see, I'm paid to convince you that what I have in this satchel is a hell of a lot better than what I have in these guns. Mansfield says this is his last offer. Records show you're squat'n on about a section of land here. Mr. Mansfield is the rightful owner of this land, but he wants to be generous and pay you for any improvements. He's willing to throw in five dollars an acre for your improvements. That's three thousand dollars Mr. Keap. Think about it, three thousand dollars or a battle in court you won't win. Mr. Keap, I ain't your enemy -- I just do a job. Sir, just take the money and get your family out'a here before you have to leave with nothin."

Bo was kneeling back from the window, the bead on his rifle was square in the middle of the man's chest. 'One wrong twitch, one wrong twitch and I have to pull this trigger.' Over and over he told himself that.

The man tossed the leather satchel to the ground near his father. With a breaking heart Bo watched his father lower the gun and pick up the satchel.

"Thank you Mr. Keap, that was a wise decision. Mansfield says he'll give you to the end of the year to clear out. And just so we're clear, takin' that money is like a signed contract -- I really don't want to have to come back over here and argue about that." The man lifted his chin up for Papa's answer.

"We'll be out by the end of the year. Now get."

The man backed his horse out, something Bo had never seen. It was clear as day why, he didn't want to risk turning his back on his father who had just been legally robbed.

***

It was the saddest Christmas the family had ever shared. The rented room in Austin stunk of mildew and unwashed bodies. That winter both Papa and Mother came down with the consumption and they both passed in late January, as many others did that year. Bo and his sister Kathryn were left with most of the three thousand dollars, a wagon with two draft horses and four saddle horses. Most everything else was sold off to add to their meager resources. The only family still alive was Papa's sister in St. Louis.

As the two young adults faced life's tough lessons all alone, it became clear to Bo that two things had to happen. One, Kathryn had to go live with Aunt Margret -- and he had to kill old man Mansfield.

"Sis, it's the best we can do right now so quit being a baby and grow up. Aunt Margret wrote back and said we're both welcome in her home. I'm a man and I can make it on my own. But I can't take care of you, that's just the plain hard facts. I need you to help me work this out, okay?"

"I know you're right Bo. But Momma and Papa and now you -- why won't you come with me?"

"Like I said, I'm old enough to take care of myself. You're not. I'll come visit you when I can get settled somewhere -- I'll write you and you'll always know where I am."

She loved her brother, she knew he intended well -- but she also knew she may very well never see him again. Who could know where the wind would blow him. But, no ... she couldn't ride the wind with him. "Okay. I'll go, but you have to promise to write me and keep in touch. I can barely face it, our family is gone and it'll never come back."

Her tears broke him and they held each other one more time as the fear of the unknown washed over them. A week later Kathryn, along with most of the money they had left, boarded a train bound for St Louis.

***

Bo sold off everything he couldn't carry and in less than a week he put Austin behind him. He rode northeast ... he at least knew where he was going on this leg of his journey. With a good chunk of the money he had from selling the things he couldn't carry, Bo bought the most modern brass cartridge pistol he could find and a bag full of ammunition. His next purchase was a modern repeating rifle. A bit of food and a few other essentials rounded out his kit.

He'd kept three of the best horses and rotated them, riding a fresh horse each day, the pack-saddle was similarly rotated. In three days he was back in familiar country.

It took a week to scout and spy on Mansfield. He already knew that the old man was as corrupt as a demon from Hell and from his concealed perch, he also learned that Mansfield was a mean bastard -- if the way he cussed and hollered at his help was how he treated people. In all of his scouting he saw no sign of the hired gunman that had proved to be the last straw for his family. After a week of patiently watching from a distance through his slightly used newly purchased brass telescope, he had his plan. On the eighth day Bo lay covered in brush and leaves a mere fifty yards from Mansfield's horse barn.

Right on time the old man walked off his front porch and sauntered toward the horse barn. In his head he heard the silent voice say, 'in about five seconds he'll open the gate and walk into the paddock -- he'll fasten the gate, turn and'... the roar of the rifle reverberated through the still morning air -- a terrified covey of quail took flight nearby. Bo calmly rose to his feet and mounted his horse. He had seen the blood explode from the old bastard's chest, that was all he had to do today.

Now, with that burden lifted and with a lighter heart, Bo rode north to gather his animals and gear. After that, only time and the wind would dictate his destination.

*****

Scene 2: 1893 -- Sixteen Years Later-- On A Train Going West

Dear Daily Gazette Readers; Your newspaper editors here at the Kansas City Daily Gazette have seen fit to send me to the gold mining district of Cripple Creek Colorado. Rumors have it that Bo Keap is an outlaw and a thief taking advantage of the sparsity of law in the region, some say he's a killer. Oddly, there's a rare few that claim he's a saint. It is this reporter's assignment to seek out the truth no matter where it is to be found. It is widely said that Bo wandered into the gold fields of the Cripple Creek district after first coming up from the south as hired help on more than one cattle drive. Rumors have it that he was an outlaw more than a ranch hand in his home territory, and the law was closing in. But no one can say exactly where he started in life, and tellingly; no one comes forward to claim him as their own kin.

I now have it from reliable sources that Bo Keap has most recently been seen over around the Cripple Creek gold camps, and that is where I am traveling, even as I write this first report. I am on a train heading west. My destination is Canon City in Colorado ... and then by God's grace, further into the wilderness to Cripple Creek. - Henry Armstrong reporting - April 4, 1893.

***

Dear Readers; My arrival in Canon City was unnerving. The place appears to have been thrown up in one day. From here, I am now risking my life on a narrow gauge side rail along a winding trace carved into the face of shear rock. To look down and imagine the fall, should anything go wrong, makes this reporter long for hearth and home. I tell you it's a wild country, and rumors of outlaws abound. But amidst all the hardship, I have to report that it is also a beautiful country in a raw way.

As you can imagine, out here in this wilderness my reports will be difficult to get back to the Kansas City Daily Gazette. Even this dispatch you are now reading very likely took days -- if not weeks -- of difficult travel to reach you. And any success at all is dependent on my ability to find a reliable way to dispatch my news. So be patient dear readers, and pray for me that I might live to succeed in this grand adventure. This is dangerous country filled with dangerous outlaws, one of whom I am in pursuit of. Henry Armstrong reporting - April 10, 1893.

*****

Scene 3: One Year Earlier, Early Spring 1892 -- Cripple Creek, Colorado Territory

Lou watches the crowd and keeps an eye on her girls. The night is still young, but the big strike today has created quite a hum. 'Should be a good take tonight, so long as there's no big fight', she muses while gazing down to the saloon below. She gracefully descends the steps and gets absorbed into the crowd of unwashed men. Walking over to Jess she says, "Keep 'em tight tonight Jess. Bounce anyone who starts any trouble. We're up for a good night with the big news getting 'em all excited. Let's be sure to get our share of it."

"I'm already on it Lou. I'm thinking just like you."

"I figured as much Jess, just making sure. I'll be up in my office if you need me."

Jess sits quietly on his stool. His perch being a raised platform four steps higher than the main floor there in the southwest corner of the main room. From this vantage point he can see any brewing trouble in the Lucky Strike Saloon and hopefully squelch it before it gets out of hand. He doesn't usually have much trouble, having perfected the art of intimidation long ago. The three foot axe handle leaning on the wall next to his stool helps to keep things calm. Making sure Lou's girls stay honest isn't as easy, and as the night grows longer the job'll get harder. Ain't nothing can kill business faster than thieving scarlet ladies.

When the strange face catches his attention, Jess's instincts trigger a cold shiver that prickles his skin and raise the hairs on his arms. "Them three is trouble," he says softly to himself. 'They ain't no miners, that's for shore. So now my night just got more complicated'.

Bo Keap steps through the door into the main room of the saloon, two men close behind him. It's early spring in the high country and the cold wind comes in behind them until the last man through pushes the door closed. The two followers split up and casually wander toward diagonal corners of the big room. Bo walks through the crowd that seems to part like a wave in front of him and closes again after he passes. When he reaches the polished bar, he waits his turn then says, "Whiskey, I'll take the bottle and two glasses."

Out of the corner of his eye, Bo sees the bouncer in the corner give a nod to someone on the stair landing. Without being obvious, he glances up -- surprised to see such a well heeled woman standing there looking right at him... 'That must be the famous Lady Lou herself'. When she glances his way, his eyes lock with hers for a moment too long -- he gives her a nod and walks to the table his man in the back corner has commandeered from two miners drinking beer.

Both Lou and Jess watch the third man wind his way through the crowd and belly-up to the bar, order his drink and lean his back against the bar. His head doesn't move much, but his eyes never stop scanning the crowd. Jess looks up to Lou and she gives him a slight nod. With that nod, Jess takes the short-barreled shotgun from it's place on the wall behind the platform and leans it close to hand. 'The way they came in, it could be a robbery -- just keep an eye open and be ready to move fast. Yep, looks like the night just got more complicated.'

As the evening wears on, it becomes easier to relax. The three aren't causing any trouble. Jess just about quits worrying, when the lead man gets up and walks his way. The shotgun is close to hand but leaning against the wall ...'If that man is as dangerous as I think he is -- I'm out'a position'.

"How do, name's Bo Keap." He sticks out his hand to shake.

"Jess Parker, what can I do for you?"

"That lady up on the stairs earlier, is that Lady Lou?"

"Yep."

"Anyway you might let her know I'd like to talk to her?"

"I can do that. She'll want to know why."

"Can you just let her know it's about that girl of hers that got roughed up last week?"

"I'll go send someone up to tell her. You did say your name is Bo Keap, is that right?"

"Yep, that's me. Thank you Jess. And just so you know, we ain't here to cause any ruckus. Just some business I think Lou'll be interested in."

With the shotgun under his arm, Jess walks through the crowd to the bar, says a few words to one of the men behind the bar and turns back to his post. At the same time, Bo winds his way back to the corner table and his comrade. With his back to the corner, Bo's eyes are on the landing at the top of the stairs. When she shows up again, she stops and looks to Jess -- he points with his chin. Once again Bo and Lady Lou lock eyes, each trying to read the other. Bo touches the brim of his hat, gives a slight nod and looks away.

In a short couple of minutes her voice makes Bo look up again. "Mr. Keap, I'm told you have something to tell me about Angelina."

Standing up, he says, "Yes, I think I do Lou. Will you sit with me for a minute and we can talk over a drink?"

The other man stands and walks a few paces to give them some privacy, but doesn't venture far. Jess picks up his shotgun, steps off the platform and wades through the crowd to a discreet but obvious place nearby.

As Bo pours a drink from the bottle for both of them, he begins to tell her why he's here. "Lou, first I just want to say that I'm sorry about what happened to Angelina. When I heard about it, I just sort of promised myself I'd find out who did that -- and I did." Reaching into his coat pocket, he pulls out a leather pouch that fills his hand. Plopping it onto the table he says, "This is what me and the man who jumped her agreed was a fair settlement for what he did to her."