Brand found himself alone in a very rugged part of Colorado after recently losing his parents. Gold fever had struck Denver City at the end of the nineteenth century and it is a very dangerous place for a marked man who is sexually attracted to other men. Brand soon finds gainful employment with a rancher who sees his potential for diving as even more valuable than his skills at sexually pleasuring men. Brand had hoped to merely survive the huge influx of men into the area, but now discovers that he is infatuated with one of them. When he is brutally attacked, Brand has to throw away all of his plans in an instant or does he…
“Denver City? That’s what they want to call it now?” I looked up at Stan whose head constantly swiveled from side to side. His Remington cocked over his arm was ready to go at the first sign of trouble.
“Yeah, after that man in charge in Kansas.” Stan didn’t even look at me as he answered. In my experience, not many men could avoid looking at my ass, especially when it was naked and wet.
We were on the bank of Cherry Creek. I was sitting on a large rock resting while Stan kept watch. The world had just moved into the second half of the nineteenth century, and a small placer deposit upstream had completely turned my world upside down in the last month—everyone had gold fever and close to a thousand new men had shown up to find it.
Stan was a good-looking man, all rugged and masculine. He didn’t quite know what to think of me, but then he wasn’t paid to think at all. I admired his barrel-chested physique through his thin cotton shirt. He wasn’t wearing a vest which allowed me to really see the definition of his muscles although most of them were covered by his oiled leather coat.
My bodyguard was probably in his late thirties but had that weathered look that made him look older. His dark brown hair was shaved close to his scalp, but his facial hair was quite the opposite. He had the kind of face that looked like he could grow a full beard overnight whether he wanted to or not. Stan’s eyes were a light blue that I read as kind, although I had heard others refer to them as cold and icy.
He finally looked down at me and said, “C’mon now. Let’s get this finished up so that we can get out of here.”
“You got a bad feeling?” I asked as I reached down and retrieved the heavy metal pan that I had been using.
“No, but better safe than sorry. How much more do you have to explore?”
“Just the very bottom of the deepest part,” I answered as I carefully walked on the rocks down to the waterline.
The mining pan that I was holding had been hastily made by hammering a stake through the metal bottom. I had to make sure not to touch the sharp edges of metal on the bottom side.
“How’d you learn how to swim like that?” Stan suddenly asked me.
I stopped and shrugged my shoulders. “I’ve always loved being in the water. My dad always made sure that we had access to a pond or river wherever we lived. I just kinda took to it naturally.”
“I never saw a man dive down like you do,” he said with a note of respect to his tone. “Is it because you are different?”
I immediately reached up and touched the bright blue mark that followed my jawline. “I hardly think that my ability to suck cock has anything to do with my diving skills, Stan,” I said with sarcasm. I had made my way out to the middle of the stream directly overhead of where I needed to pan.
The big bodyguard blushed immediately and explained, “I didn’t know if it had something to do with being able to hold your breath.”
“I don’t think so,” I said as I submerged under the water.
I wished that I could stay and continue my conversation with Stan some more, but I knew that I needed to conserve my energy for this task, as well as others yet to come. I did enjoy seeing the quiet bodyguard squirm.
It would take me several dives to fully explore the bottom of the stream. I had a routine of scooping up dirt and rocks, carrying the full pan to the surface, and then letting the water run through the pan to see if any gold was revealed. This is what my boss, Mr. Sinclair had demanded of me.
The bottom of the deepest part was dark, so I never knew what I had until I came to the surface and was able to look at the contents of the pan. I tried to be systematic about my searches, but so far had not turned up anything. I rested longer and longer between dives until I was on the last one.
This time when I stuck the pan into the silty mud, it clanged hard against something. I reached out to see if it was an old tin can or something, but it turned out to be a rock of some sort. It didn’t feel like any of the other rocks in the creek, so I tried to pry it up from where it was lodged in the stream bed. It didn’t budge. I scooped up some smaller rocks and headed for the surface. I made sure to go straight up from the strange rock.
“Anything?” Stan yelled from the bank.
“I don’t think so,” I yelled back. I quickly made note of exactly where I was in relation to the trees and bushes on the banks. Turning my attention back to the pan, I sorted through the debris until there was nothing left.
“Just rocks,” I called to my bodyguard.
“Mr. Sinclair will not be happy about that,” he said with a touch of concern to his tone.
“I’m not sure he really thought we would find anything,” I said as I swam over to the bank and walked out. I double-checked the landmarks that I had memorized from the water before moving off the course I had set.
Stan stepped toward me and handed me his handkerchief. I took the red bandana and began to wipe the water off my skin. Stan and I were about the same height—six foot three or so and both of us were thickly built.
