The Dinosaur Hunter by Homer Hickam Read Free Book Online Page B

let a fossil collector go out on the Square C?” Sam demanded, raising his eyebrows so high I thought they were going to fly right off his forehead.
    â€œHe look like he could kill a cow?” Julius asked.
    â€œI tell you somebody’s got to look into all this,” Sam said.
    â€œJob for the law, Sam,” the mayor said.
    â€œWhich we don’t have,” Sam retorted. In fact, the position of county sheriff hadn’t been filled for a couple of years after the last one had died peacefully in bed. He was a Brescoe, named Spud. Since there was virtually no crime in the county other than the occasional fender bender outside the Hell Creek Bar on a Friday or Saturday night, the county commissioner, who happened to be Julius Brescoe, Spud’s son, had decided to save some money and not hold an election for another one.
    â€œI could call the state police,” the mayor proposed, “and see what they say.”
    Based on the frowns aimed at her, Edith’s proposal was not received well. Fillmore County folks never like outsiders to poke into their business and that includes state troopers. After some more discussion, it was decided to let things ride, everybody was to keep their eyes open, and we’d see what we’d see. The gathering then turned to planning the Independence Day celebration and I took my leave. As I walked out, I saw a shiny silver sport utility vehicle, no doubt a hybrid, turning onto the main highway. The Green Planeteers were taking off.
    I chased down Jeanette’s list, loaded up Bob with barbed wire, nails, and some groceries, then came back to the bar for an early beer. I ordered a Rainier, put my boot up on the brass rail, then drank it with the quiet satisfaction of a cowboy with no present responsibilities.
    A dainty foot went up beside mine. The mayor’s. Our legs briefly touched and I got a mild thrill although our affair had been over for more than a year. “A Rainier for the lady,” I told Joe the bartender.
    Joe delivered the beer and Edith and I went over and sat at a table. “You look good,” I told her, which was the truth. If I wasn’t mistaken, she’d unbuttoned the top button on her blouse since the meeting. I could almost smell the perfume I knew she had dabbed between her breasts.
    She appraised me with her gentle, blue-gray eyes. “Thanks, cowboy. You’re not looking too bad yourself.”
    â€œWhy aren’t you in the meeting?” I asked.
    â€œWhen Jeanette’s in the room, she takes over. They don’t need me. It’s good to see you, Mike. I’ve missed you.”
    â€œI’ve missed you, too. How are you doing?”
    Edith picked up her Rainier and took a thoughtful sip. “Ted and I are doing OK these days,” she said with no real conviction.
    This I took as a signal she had no interest in revving up our affair so I shifted the conversation. “Those two enviro boys could have got hurt this morning.”
    She smiled a sad smile. “I’m not surprised at the reception they got. Change isn’t going to come easy to this county.”
    â€œChange doesn’t come easy anywhere,” I said. “But I don’t see the ranchers ever going along with any of this environmental stuff. They figure they’re the best environmentalists, anyway, because they take care of the land and all the critters inside their fences.”
    Edith gave me a hard look. “Mike, the days of ranching in the West are over. All the federal government has to do is change a few rules and every one of those folks in that room would be gone. They have no friends in Washington, D.C., not one.”
    â€œHow about Senator Claggers?”
    Edith responded with a grunt of derision, had herself another swallow of beer, then said, “The ranchers are their own worst enemies. They hunker down here, keeping to themselves, and think they can keep the future away. But it’s coming,