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Gabrielle Hopewell watched with wide-eyed fascination as the daring cowboy wrangled the unruly adolescent Gorgosaurus into a large paddock. Though men of Tanner's ilk were a breed apart, she couldn't deny the sheer audacity and skill he displayed in his dealings with the formidable creatures.
She observed Tanner's nimble dance with the Gorgosaurus, a lively performance of unkindly wrestlers. With the skill of a seasoned wrangler, he deftly corralled the creature into its enclosure, slamming the gate shut with a triumphant flourish. Tanner's hat took flight, landing in his hand with a flourish.
With everything done and dusted, Tanner dipped into a graceful bow, his mischievous hazel eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief, as if he'd just pulled off the grandest trick of them all. "One gator-toothed critter wrangled, lil' lady."
And without fault, Gabrielle beamed. "Thank you, Tanner! You've done marvellously! Come, Randall, Don't be rude and thank the man."
Randall shot her an irritated look but inclined his head stiffly to Tanner. "Yes, thanks are in order, I suppose."
Tanner grinned crookedly. "Ain't no skin off my back, English. Nothin' like witnessin' true Texan skills to turn that frown upside down. But these fellas in them paddocks? These fellas sure got it nice—free room and board, three squares a day. Folk will come runnin' to see these zoo animals."
"These animals are not here for amusement or exploitation, Mr. Graves," Randall replied stiffly with an inevitable glare. "It's a refuge for injured, abused or illegally trafficked dinosaurs-"
"Or swindled."
Randall rolled his eyes heavenward, already regretting his tentative olive branch to the infuriating cowboy. "Enough. Now, I believe the matter of payment for your... services remains. I shall see to compensating you for your time. Wait by the front gates, and I expect you to leave promptly thereafter."
With a curt dismissal, he spun around on his boot heel and marched off towards the pens, poor Gabrielle like a lost puppy in his shadow.
"Randall, you're being rather petulant," Gabrielle chided quietly as they walked. "Admit it - you've no wish to compensate that man for his help."
Randall sputtered indignantly. "Help? The buffoon nearly caused that beast's demise with his ham-fisted antics! Why, if it weren't for basic decency I'd sooner-"
"He is not dim-witted, nor is he wicked, Randall. You simply do not wish to reward him due to your arrogance."
"Have you thought me wrong? The man's an oafish scoundrel who delights in vexing me at every turn! Why should I give him a farthing?"
"Because it's fair. Whether you like him or not, Tanner did the job you requested."
"At subpar quality! The dinosaur's condition is proof of his ineptitude."
"Or proof that even the most skilled are fallible at times. You're being petty, Randall, and you know it. The right thing to do is pay him."
Randall spluttered, at a loss. "Very well, pay the fiend I shall. However, this does not mean I approve of him in the slightest."
"Yet for all your bluster, I do believe Tanner is far more diverting company than you give him credit for."
"'Diverting' is certainly the word for it."
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Dinosaurs Don't Dance
Historical FictionCowboys and dinosaurs. Where the western world had saurian denizens as normal as six-shooters. The 19th century comes alive with an adventure of unlikely friendships and the battle against dinosaur cruelty and colonial skirmishes. Follow the trio: A...