Bowie O'Shea and the Queen of Sheba
Copyright© 2025 by A Bad Attitude
Chapter 6
Author’s Note—I first wrote this next chapter using derogatory terms in Spanish since this is a story about a ranch in South America. The main characters speak both English and Spanish but the two new ‘cowboys’ are from the capital. They would not speak English. Since this is being posted on an English language site, for an English-speaking audience, I re-wrote it using English terms. Confusing? Yeah, I know. Keep reading, you’ll understand.
Bowie—I rode across the dam and downriver to where those Jersey heifers were pastured. Those two newbies were waiting for me. I introduced myself and told them what we were about to do and how I wanted it done. There were no complaints, just curious smirks, which I did not understand. Getting those dairy heifers into a group and moving them up towards the lab was not much of a problem. As they slowly walked towards the corral behind the lab, I saw the blacksmith entering his shop. I told the two I was working with to be sure to shut the corral gate when they were all in and that I would meet them in the lunchroom.
The blacksmith was surprised to see me and asked if there was a problem with the knife he had made for me. I assured him there was no problem and I wanted another just like it. He agreed to make another and said it would be ready in a couple of weeks. I thanked him and rode over to the lunchroom. I tied my horse and entered through the side door. I saw the two cowboys who had worked with me that morning sitting at a table. They could not see me but I could hear them.
“I told you, Bowie is getting him some nigger pussy! I saw them kissing last night on the dam. You ever had any nigger pussy?”
“She ain’t all nigger. Her daddy is a nigger but her momma is white. I saw them all in the Quonset hut this morning before they left. But she qualifies. I’d love to get me some of...” he never got to finish! I jerked him up out of his chair and hit him on his jaw as hard as I had ever hit anyone in my life. He sprawled on the floor. “Bo, come on man. We didn’t mean...”
“Don’t call me Bo, only my friends call me Bo. And I know exactly what you meant. Now get your friend up and get out of here. Go to your room and pack your shit. You both better be on the afternoon flight back to the capital because if I ever see you or catch either of you two assholes on O’Shea property again, I’ll bury you here. Now get out!”
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.