I smiled down at him, easing myself out of the saddle, keeping the reins in my hands. “That’s wonderful!”
“It is! And we might, and I don’t want to say it too loudly in case the flowers are bugged, we might have a skull that’s still attached to the frill! We have what we think is a horn point uncovered. Oh! And I’ve been informed that we’re no longer calling our find Millicent as that’s a feminine name, and since we don’t know how this dinosaur would identify, we voted on a non-binary name.”
“You’ve been busy. And what is the new name?”
“Finch.” His gaze darted to Tiberius nibbling at my shirt. “He looks hungry.”
“Thirsty probably.”
“We have some bottled water we can dump into a bucket for him.”
“That would be great.”
I tied T to the bumper of a ranch four-wheeler parked in the shade then rounded up a five gallon pail. Bishop helped fill the bucket, one bottle of semi-cold water at a time. As we dumped we kept darting glances at each other. I felt giddy. Me. An old man. Tiberius enjoyed his drink immensely, and Bishop worked up the courage to place his hand on T’s nose before the horse whipped his head around to try to bite a fly on his ass. That sent Bishop stumbling backward. I caught him before he went tumbling into the pit.
“Thanks,” he whispered as I gave his elbow a short squeeze. “Come see Finch’s horn tip!”
Two hours flew by. I’d moved from observing to helping or trying to help. Most of the time I felt like I was in the way, but Bishop and his team were incredibly kind. I got a crash course in making plaster molds for small fossils. The big stuff, Finch, for example, I left the experts to handle. I’d been tasked with making molds of tiny little shrimpy things as well as a beast that looked exactly like a horseshoe crab. Obviously, this area had once been a river bend which caught all manner of bones. A bone cache as it were. Anything that died upstream had been carried down here and the earth and time had worked to bury the remains. Kneeling in the dirt, sweat on my brow, and the sound of Bishop’s voice in my ear made for a pleasant afternoon.
Sadly, I had to return to the ranch. Rising with a groan, I dusted off my seat, slapping my backside and coughing on the dust rolling off my Wranglers. I caught Bishop watching me with a gleam in his eye. Did he want to spank me? A hot shudder of desire coursed through me. Friday night couldn’t come quickly enough. I made a mental note to make a run to town for some ingredients for a dish I’d always loved but hadn’t made in ages. Cooking for one didn’t seem to have the appeal of creating something for a lover to enjoy. Would he be my lover come Friday? I sure hope so.
Maybe a quick run to the Copper Falls pharmacy was in order. Just in case…