The Dinosaur Hunter(33)

I was startled by the clip-clop of a horse at the base of the hill and, when I looked down, I saw an equally startled rider. It was Carl Haxby, Sam’s youngest son. “Hello, Carl,” I said.

Carl finally found his voice. “What are you doing up there, Mike?”

“Looking for dinosaur bones. There are quite a few of them on this hill.”

Carl briefly scanned the exposed brown dirt, the ancient gray mud, and the sagebrush of the hill, then shook his head. “All I see is Haxby property,” he said. “Are you lost?”

It would have probably saved us all some grief if I had answered that I was indeed lost and would get my tail back to the Square C first thing but, instead, I said, “No. I know exactly where I am. I should have asked you before coming out here but I’m working with some folks who have a BLM permit and…well, here we are.”

“We?”

“On the other side of this hill is a young lady. She’s a professional paleontologist. She’s just looking for bones, Carl. No reason to get upset.”

But Carl was upset. “I’ll thank you to leave our property, Mike,” he said.

He didn’t curse, he didn’t say he was going to climb up there and whup my ass, he didn’t threaten to go burn down my trailer, he just said what he said, most calmly. He was also armed. There was a rifle, a .30-06, slung next to his leg. I climbed down until I was eye level with him and opened my backpack, showing him the fragments of bone I’d picked up. “This is all I’m doing,” I said.

“You found those on our land?”

“On BLM land.” I sat down on a rock. I had learned in my past life in the thin blue line that sometimes sitting down while talking to someone in a tense situation tends to have a calming effect. “I’ll say it again, Carl. I should have asked before coming out here and I apologize. But, technically, BLM is not your land.”

“I’ll have to tell my dad,” Carl said. “He’s going to raise hell.”

I took off my hat, wiped the sweat from my brow with my sleeve, and plopped it back aboard. It was hot and getting hotter and I needed to get going and probably so did Carl on whatever business had brought him out here. “All right,” I said. “But be sure to tell him I apologize for not asking him first.”

Carl backed his horse up, then swung it around. He nodded toward the plastic bags. “Could I look at that bone again that was sort of like a claw?”

I stood up and handed it over. He studied the bone in his big, calloused hand. The Haxbys worked hard, all of them, and Carl’s hands reflected that. “Looks like a broken bird claw,” he said.

“Yep. Dr. Pickford—he’s the lead paleontologist—says there were a lot of dinosaurs with claws out here. Sharp teeth, too.”

“Then why does it look like a bird claw?”

“I don’t know, Carl.”

“Maybe there were big birds that didn’t get on the ark,” Carl offered.

“Could be,” I said.

Carl cocked his head. “How did you get into this, Mike?”

“Jeanette volunteered me.”

“You do what she says?”

“She’s my boss.”

“But you’d like her to be more,” he said, smiling for the first time since he’d found me. When he saw my expression, which wasn’t happy, he added, “Sorry. The Haxby wives gossip. I sometimes listen.”

“Tell them I said I’m in love with her. That’ll give them something to talk about for a long time.”

He rubbed his jaw, then shook his head. “I’ll do no such thing.”

“I’ll get off your land, Carl. Right now. I’ll find the girl and make her leave, too.”

He nodded, then said, “No need. As far as I’m concerned, you just asked for permission. Have fun picking up bones.”

Carl rode off and I waited until he disappeared around the hill. Although I was relieved at the way things had turned out, I still felt like shit. The Haxbys had their ways and I didn’t agree with all of them but they’d always been good neighbors. Now, I’d thumbed my nose at them in the worst way I could do it.

Wanting to get off the Haxby BLM as soon as possible, I crossed the hill at one of the low saddles. Laura wasn’t in sight as I came over but I did spot some bones. They were horn chunks, probably Triceratops. I wrote them up in my log, and collected them. Then I slid down the hill and walked along it for a while before spotting Laura on one of the benches. She was sitting there, looking at something with binoculars. I turned to see what it might be and saw that she was looking toward Blackie Butte. “What do you see?” I asked.