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He went to one knee, so I did the same. The winds were lessening now as the sun sank, but a playful zephyr skipped around us, picking up some dust as well as a dozen or so long strands of sandy blond hair. He needed to tuck that hair back into his stupid bun. It was distracting and needed to be tucked. Into the bun or behind his ear or—
“Boss, this is amazing!” Perry’s voice right beside me startled me. “We think we might have a frill!”
I looked from one beaming face to another. “And a frill is…” I asked because I only knew of one kind of frill and that was on a dress that she had worn on her third birthday. Pink it was, with white lacy frills, and—
“A frill is the bony support on many horned dinosaurs. You know what a Triceratops is?” Bishop asked and I nodded, happy to be talking about dead lizards. “Well, that flare behind the two largest horns is known as a frill.” He ran his brush along what appeared to be a long stretch of rock with small dips. “This is just the tip obviously, as the skull itself, if it’s intact, would be about ten feet long.”
“Can you believe it, boss?!” Perry asked, his excitement gushing out of him.
“Well, let’s not count our trikes before we unearth her. It could also be a Nasutoceratops or a Mercuriceratops. It could be the frill of one of several Ceratopsia.”
“Right, sure, yeah, that’s true.” Perry nodded. I nodded too although I had no freaking clue. I knew three dinosaurs. No. Four. And all my dino knowledge came from watching Jurassic Park a few times. I did know what a Triceratops was. It was the sick dinosaur that Laura Dern was so concerned about that she pawed through dino droppings to help. Did she ever figure out what was wrong with the beast?
“Still though, this is pretty substantial and incredibly exciting!” Bishop grinned widely. “Before we go we should cover up the site in case of inclement weather.” We all stood. “Oh! I will need to contact the university to relay my findings and see if I can scrounge up a team of undergrads who would like to help on the dig for extra credit. There is cell service at the big house?”
“Most of the time but it can be spotty. If not there’s landlines,” I explained.
“I’ll help,” Perry was quick to say. “I mean…I’ll help when I can, of course.”
“I have no problems with you helping out as long as your work on the ranch is done,” I told my top hand. He nodded vigorously then ran off to grab some tarps out of his Jeep.
“He’s an incredibly bright young man,” Bishop stated.
“Yes, he is,” I agreed then helped them tidy up the best we could.
We gathered the bone fragments that had been wrapped in foil after being plaster casted. That explained what the white mess Perry and Bishop both were speckled with. The site was riddled with buckets, boxes, bags, shovels, picks, and water bottles. By the time we had things as Bishop wanted, the sun had dropped behind the Tetons and the air was growing colder. Nights in May could dip to near freezing.
“I wish I had my tents and gear. I hate to leave her,” Bishop said then sighed. “I’ll need to borrow a four-wheeler so I can come and go from the site without pulling anyone from their work.”
Tiberius whinnied as if offended by that notion. Bishop’s blue eyes skipped nervously to my horse who was impatient to get back to his stable for some grain and a good brushing.
“I’m sure we can find one for you to use. There’s a dozen or so horses as well,” I pointed out, waving a hand at my gelding.
“Uhm, yeah, thanks but I like things that don’t bite or kick you when you try to get on them.”
Ah, okay. Someone had a bad horse experience as a child I surmised. We could work on that while he was here. Maybe even get him past his fears enough to get him into the saddle.
Or holding on behind with his chin on your shoulder. That was nice, wasn’t it?
“We’ll find you something without teeth and hooves then,” I said and got a grateful nod from Bishop.
“Okay, we’re ready!” Perry called as he cranked over his Jeep. Bishop clapped my shoulder and jogged off, jumping into the Jeep then breaking into song with Perry as they trundled along the dry riverbank, leaving me staring at their taillights. An odd feeling wriggled around inside me. It took me a moment to recognize what it was. Envy. Did I really want to be in that Jeep singing along to Weezer, whoever that was? Seemed I did. I sighed as I cradled my rifle.
“I need to do bookwork,” I muttered to my horse. Yep, dull, boring bookwork. That was the ticket. Nothing like columns, numbers, and invoices to get a man’s wandering mind back on business.
