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THE YELLOW ROSE OF TEXAS

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"You did this!" Gabrielle's eyes ablaze as she approached the cell bars. In a stage-worthy display, she fixed Tanner with a scorching stare.

Tanner got up and sauntered over to grab the iron wrought bars—The only barrier separating him from a gloved slap. "My fault?" he said with exaggerated innocence. "Little lady, I was just goin' about my business till you started chasin' me all over creation!"

"You have violated my sanctuary and taken what does not belong to you! Those eggs are in need of constant care! Who knows what harm has come to them during this chase."

"Ain't my problem. Those eggs are safe 'nuff in my satchel, probably somewhere in storage." He gave Gabrielle a sly grin. "But we could talk about gettin' ya outta here... for a price."

Gabrielle stepped back in disgust. "I would prefer to remain in this cell then compromise my principles!"

Tanner chuckled. "You're a fiery little thing, ain'tcha? Like spitfire. I do enjoy breakin' in horses like you."

"I am not a horse to be broken to your will!" With a huff, the spritely woman spun on her heel, leaving him to marvel at her impressive talent for concealing a furious blush.

"Aw, don't be like that now! We're gonna be jailmates for a good long while. Might as well make the best of it."

Gabrielle couldn't believe her luck—stuck in this cramped cell directly adjacent to a dauntless cowboy for company. With arms crossed and a scowl that could rival a thunderstorm, she decided to punish him with the deafening silence of her ire. The cowboy, equally displeased with the arrangement, looked as if he'd rather tango with a pack of Utahraptors than share a cell with her. So they stood there, glaring daggers at each other, like a standoff between two stubborn dinosaurs.

"Y'know, spitfire, those eggs you're so worked up about? They're rightfully mine."

Gabrielle whirled around to face him, incredulous. "Yours? Those eggs were entrusted to me by one of my business partners, nestled in the hatchery of my sanctuary, and therefore belong to me."

"Well, now, who's to say who rightfully owns them eggs? You? Nope, 'fraid not. Snagged 'em myself from a nest out on the range fair 'n square."

"What were you thinking, robbing eggs from a wild nest? Those eggs require delicate handling and brooding, not carted off by an egg thief!"

"We're in the dinosaur business, ain't we? Supply and demand, that's all. Ya know how it is. Can't say I didn't expect ya to complain 'bout honesty, though."

"I must clarify that my partner and I run a sanctuary that promotes ethical practices, where we foster abandoned eggs or breed them, not engage in the black market for poached dinosaur eggs!"

"Ethics don't put food on the table." He gave Gabrielle a sly grin. "But I reckon I could be persuaded to donate them eggs to yer little zoo."

"With a face like yours? I can not believe you would expect me to bargain!"

"Aw, come on now, don't be like that! We could work out a deal—you'n me."

Gabrielle's face reddened in anger. "I would sooner see your head smashed than bargained to an unconscionable villain!"

Somehow, that seemed to touch a nerve in the dino wrangler. "Listen here, spitfire, you best be careful what ya say. Ain't no good gonna come from threatenin' me like that. And let me tell ya, none 'o this woulda happened if that no 'count partner of yers, Jeremy Shaw, hadn't cheated me outta what was rightfully mine! So don't go pointin' fingers at me when the real culprit is standing right in front of ya."

"The culprit is certainly right in front of me," Gabrielle eyed him from head to toe, but entertained the notion nonetheless, "What do you mean when you said Jeremy cheated you? How do you know about him?"

"Heard you spittin' name, talkin' about yer Deino eggs outside that post office. I sold him that clutch fair and square a while ago. They's gotta be worth at most one-fifty each. But naw, yer man paid me one-fifty for all!"

"Jeremy would never cheat anyone. There must be some misunderstanding."

Tanner slammed a fist against the bars. "Ain't no misunderstandin'! That two-timin' varmint screwed me, plain and simple!"

"Jeremy is an honourable man."

"Yeah, honourable 'nough to swindle a hard-workin' hunter outta his fair due. My horse almost died for 'em! And now, thanks to that partner of yers, I'm sittin' in this jail cell instead of collectin' my rightful pay!"

"Even if what you say is true, it does not justify stealing eggs. Both in the wild and on private property!"

"I was just tryin' to get my pay and get back what was owed to me! But now," he gestured around the cell, "thanks to you ridin' in all hell-bent and crazy, I done lost them eggs for good!"

Gabrielle's certainty wavered. "Whatever the truth of your dealings with Jeremy, you still broke the law. And you will face the consequences."

"Easy for you't say, Miss High 'n Mighty. While I rot in jail, you'll walk free." Tanner snorted and shot her a withering look. "Some justice that is."

Gabrielle's mind swirled with conflicting emotions. Doubts about Jeremy gnawed at her, yet she was determined not to offer an ounce of sympathy. Then the thought of Randall discovering her lock-up debacle filled her with dread. She'd be mortified and, worst of all, lose his trust.

Gabrielle took a deep breath, squaring her shoulders resolutely before addressing Tanner evenly.

"If what you say about Jeremy is true, then I apologise on his behalf. But thievery cannot be condoned. However, I am willing to meet you fairly. If you help us both escape these cells, I'll pay you double what you claim Jeremy owes—two thousand and four hundred pounds for the clutch."

"Whoa there, you sure you got the right number? Have ya gone and lost your senses? Twenty-four hundred? And in pounds? Ya mean to say you're offerin' me more than what it's worth? I don't know much about conversions, but that sounds like a mighty fine price to me."

"Life is precious. There is no amount I am not willing to let go. Will you, Mr. Tanner Graves, accept?"

"And why would you do that? I got screwed once... or twice... What say ya won't be another one to cheat me too?"

"Because I want those eggs back safely. Beyond that, I would rather keep my dignity in the eyes of another than to explain myself why I had to be jailed. Clearly Jeremy made an error that needs correction, however we must resolve this like honourable people, not thieves or cheat."

"Ain't no honour among meat rustlers, spitfire. We live by our wits and grit. But I ain't one to pass up a good deal. Ya pay me, I'll get us outta these cells and give up them eggs." He held out a hand between the bars. "We got a deal?"

Though distasteful, Gabrielle shook his hand firmly. "We have a deal."

Tanner grinned. "Alright missy, here's the plan. We gotta get the attention of the Head Guard. Only he's got the keys that'll spring us free."

"An excellent start. But how do we-"

Tanner cut her off. "Now before ya go off, don't ya go plannin' nothin'. Just leave that ugly business to me."

"Yes, of course. Although, I am perfectly capable of handling myself, Mr. Graves."

He chuckled. "Call me Tanner. Now, don't get your britches- Err, dress- in a bunch. A delicate lil' filly like you should just sit back and let the menfolk handle things."

"I am no 'delicate lil' filly'! I pursued you on a Galli!"

"That ya did. Tell ya what, spitfire, how 'bout ya put that sassiness to good use? Get the guard's attention however ya can, and I'll do the talkin'."

"You want me to meekly attract the Head Guard's attention so you can... talk your way out?"

Tanner shrugged. "That's about the shape of it, missy."

Gabrielle retorted hotly: "Well you can take your chauvinistic scheme and shove them up your-"

"Oi! What's all that ruckus?" A gruff voice called out. The watchman rounded the corner and spotted the arguing prisoners.

Tanner barked a laugh and looked at the lady. "Now, we gotta work together on this one. How's your singin' voice?"

"I beg your pardon? What happened to talking our way out?"

Tanner flashed her a grin. "I got a better idea. Figure we gotta make a ruckus to get the Head Guard's saunterin' in here. And what makes a bigger ruckus than some off-key singin'?"

Gabrielle chuckled in amusement. "Are you suggesting we serenade the Head Guard into releasing us?"

"Crazy 'nough it just might work! But I needs a lady's voice, so sing with me now!" Tanner chuckled in turn, slammed the bars of his cell with his fist and began belting out an off-key rendition of "The Yellow Rose of Texas".

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LArGlfEVYqM

In the tiny, dimly lit jailhouse, Tanner's voice croaked like a bullfrog on a summer night, attempting the well-known folk song. Meanwhile, Gabrielle's angelic soprano soared above, trying its best to harmonise with the dino wrangler's baritone voice. Despite their best efforts, the mismatched duo couldn't help but dissolve into laughter, their impromptu concert turning the jailhouse into an unexpected comedy stage.

"That's the spirit, lil' spitfire! Surprised y'know the song!" Tanner threw his entire self into the performance, swaying side to side and pounding his fist on the bars to create makeshift percussion.

"The wonders of import, Tanner!"

As the melodious mayhem unfolded, Gabrielle found herself embracing the lunacy with gusto, twirling in wild circles and adding her own dramatic flair to the hodgepodge of sounds. Soaring like a wayward bird, occasionally dipping to comical depths that made even the most serious onlookers raise an amused brow. Their absurd performance drew an unexpected audience of fellow inmates, who couldn't resist the allure of such a spectacle. Amidst the clang of iron bars and the creaking of old floorboards, the jailhouse became a stage for even the most downtrodden souls to join the ruckus, cheering and stomping their boots.

Barely suppressing their grins, they watched the flustered Head Guard huffed and puffed his way toward their cells. With all the sternness of a disgruntled rooster, he brandished his nightstick by banging it against the bars, demanding silence as if the mere sound of his bark could quell the mirthful spirits of the imprisoned.

As the guard approached, Tanner violently shook the bars of his cell loudly and called out in a booming voice, "Evenin', suh! Fancy lettin' us fine singers out for a bit of fresh air?" Then spat at his face for all of Gabriell's visible shock.

"You little twat!" The jailer snapped as he unlocked Tanner's cell door, no doubt hoping to cop a good showdown.

Gabrielled watched with wide eyes as Tanner deliberately waited for the guard to lock it again, leaving both men in the cell. In a dazzling display of criminal ingenuity, Tanner skillfully yanked the man into the depths, disarmed the hapless guard with a swift haymaker to the jaw, leaving the poor fellow sprawled. The keys jingled merrily as they danced from his grip, falling into Tanner's waiting hands. With a mischievous glint in his eye, Tanner unlocked his cell and stepped into the corridor.

Then she gasped when the dino wrangler unlocked her cell door. "Come on, spitfire!" Tanner called, already making his way down the hallway. "Unless you plan on stayin' in that cage?"

Gabrielle cast a quick sympathetic glance at the bewildered guard nursing a bump on his head, probably wondering if his job description included late-night excursions.

With nimble steps, she followed Tanner's lead through the labyrinthine jail, tiptoeing like a cat burglar avoiding the watchful gaze of prowling guards. Out of the blue, Gabrielle began to giggle. "I can not believe we actually sang our way to freedom!"

"Told ya it'd work." Tanner chuckled and extended an elbow towards Gabrielle in an exaggerated gentlemanly gesture, along with a bow to reach her level. "Miss Hopewell, may I escort you to reclaimin' them eggs of yours?"

Gabrielle laughed and linked her arm through Tanner's. "Why thank you kindly, Mr. Graves! So, where do we start?"

"First thing's first; We gotta arm ourselves. All my gear's still in the watchmen's armoury."

"Arms? We don't need violence to reclaim my eggs."

"Little lady, folks like me have enemies. Best we's be prepared." He patted Gabrielle's hand reassuringly. "But I promise; no unnecessary shootin', not while you's 'round."

"Very well, let us proceed to the armoury. However, I must request that only one shot be taken, and no reward will be offered."

"Wouldn't expect nothin' less." And with that, the unlikely duo headed off, arm in arm, to retrieve Tanner's confiscated weapons and gear and hopefully, Gabrielle's precious hatchlings.

Gabrielle and Tanner crept stealthily like a pair of overly cautious squirrels through the dimly lit labyrinth of the jailhouse. In their quest for the armoury, every corner played host to a new surprise: a drunken gaoler here, a languid guard there, and cells filled with characters that even Shakespeare might have considered for his plays. As they tip-toed past rowdy inmates who seemed to have developed a nocturnal symphony of snoring, the duo could not help but wonder if perhaps this was less a jailhouse and more a talent show for slumbering.

Tanner was in his element, every move orchestrated with the grace of a practised dance. Beside him, poor Gabrielle resembled a startled rabbit, all wide-eyed and twitchy. They wove through the shadows, Gabrielle stifling a yelp as Tanner expertly steered them clear of a guard who seemed more interested in his sandwich than his surroundings. Corner turned, heartbeats hushed, they found themselves in the embrace of a doorway's recess. Tanner pressed a finger to his lips, and Gabrielle clamped her mouth shut. Time dripped as they waited, the only sound a duet of their own heartbeats, while the oblivious guards rambled past, louder than a herd of braying hadrosaurs.

With the echoing footsteps of the guards fading into the distance, Tanner nodded at Gabrielle to continue on. They moved forward, until the coveted door of the armoury loomed ahead. Tanner's nimble fingers choreographed their way across the lock while Gabrielle stood sentinel.

The lock surrendered, allowing the partners to slip into the heart of the armoury. Tanner swiftly reclaimed his arsenal, his fingers waltzing over cold steel and gathering bullets like Spanish gold. Meanwhile, Gabrielle's eyes flirted with the world beyond with a mixture of curiosity, amazed by the sight of the firearms.

Tanner finished loading his guns and knives, then turned to Gabrielle with a grin, holding a gleaming six-shooter to her. "Alright, spitfire, time to arm up!"

Gabrielle practically squeaked like a Compy as he waved him away. "I'll have no need for firearms!"

"What if we run into trouble?"

"I'll manage well enough without resorting to violence."

"What, you gonna slap a man with your soft, gloved hands?"

"Tanner Graves!"

"Suit yerself." But as Tanner turned away, Gabrielle felt something slide into her sleeve. Tanner shot her a wink. "Best keep this just'n case."

Gabrielle pulled out the object—a wicked-looking knife. Morbidly horrified, she chided. "I said I require no weapons!"

Tanner laughed. "C'mon now, it's just a lil' toothpick. Ain't gonna hurt nobody."

"I am not one for shanking irons."

Tanner took the knife from her and made a big show of flicking and waving it in the most careless manner before sliding it back into her sleeve. "Now you'll be prepared for any varmints we come across!"

Gabrielle shot him a withering look. "The only creature I wish to contend with is yourself, and a sound thrashing with my heel to your backside!"

Tanner grinned cheekily. "Aw, ya know you like havin' ol' Tanner around."

"Perhaps just a little." She eyed the knife now secreted in her sleeve. "My dear one shall certainly dispose of me to a finishing school for young ladies if ever he discovers such unbecoming evidence."

"What in tarnation is a finishin' school?"

"An institution of reformatory intent, directed at moulding young women into the very image of decorous ladyhood. Their time spent therein is devoted to instruction in the social graces and gentle arts befitting one of high standing, cultivating the manners and conduct required to move in the most exalted circles of society."

"Sounds a might peculiar t'me. Sittin' around learnin' fancy manners 'n' such. I'm figurin' all that primpin' 'n' preenin' jes' ain't natural fer young ladies."

"For women of my nature, undoubtedly so. Yet for my station, it is required. My business partner might be at the end of his patience with my levity, alas, should he gain insight into the imprudent kind of my diversions."

"That Jeremy fella?"

"No, another. One quite dear to me, yet a business partner, nonetheless."

"Some high falutin' foreigner from back East?"

"Pardon? Well, a man born of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland. He owns and runs dinosaur sanctuaries both in London and Massachusetts."

"Let me make a ripe ol' guess... The name's Randall Thompson?"

"Pray tell, how do you know?"

"Well, I'll be damned. Met sleepy specs out in Texas." Tanner grinned, the widest Gabrielle saw him ever portrayed, "Saw that no 'count rascal ridin' the range for a dino, among other fool notions. Talked about a purdy filly with a name like yers."

Gabrielle's cheeks blazed and the air around her turning stiflingly warm. Whether it was the audacity of Tanner's proclamation, dubbing her a 'purdy filly,' or the curious mixture of emotions stirred by Randall's claim, she couldn't quite tell. In that moment, the delicate balance between embarrassment and intrigue seemed as fragile as a soap bubble.

"Indeed? Was he in his right senses? I do hope no harm comes to him."

"I'll spare the details for now." Tanner tipped his hat and gestured at the door. "After you, spitfire. Next stop, the storage house. That's where they'll be keepin' my saddlebags and such, and them eggs of yours."

The pair weaved through the corridors, their next destination the jail's trove. Stepping into the storeroom with the ease of the chain of keys, they were met with a cornucopia of ill-gotten gains; A chaotic gallery of contraband, discarded relics of freedom, and confiscated secrets that whispered tales of their owners' transgressions and desires.

Tanner's hands danced deftly through the satchels and bags, rustling through fabric and clinking trinkets. Beside him, Gabrielle stood guard at the door until Tanner's triumphant gasp shattered the silence. "Found it!" With a weathered hand, Tanner hefted the worn leather satchel, cradling within it a clutch of precious Deinonychus eggs.

Gabrielle hurried over. "They appear unharmed! A trifle in places, yet spared of damage!"

"Gettin' them hatchlin's back to your fancy ranch ain't half the battle, missy. We still gotta escape this here city on our trusty steeds, and that won't be no picnic."

"How so?"

"Them stables' wide open. Problem is that there'll be stablehands tendin' to the mounts day and night with the watchmen comin' in to get a mount. 'Specially when the moon's comin' out. We'll be darn lucky if there ain't someone muckin' out our rides this very minute."

"Surely there's a way. We have come this far."

"That we have, and sly too. But this next part calls for a mighty distraction and some trickery. Maybe even a lil' roughhousin'." He turned to Gabrielle with a wry smile. "Now I know yer ways tend moral, missy. But t'night, we're gonna have to make a ruckus to sneak them two critters out from under the stablehands' noses."

Gabrielle's inner turmoil was palpable, her determination warring with her conscience like a pair of bull Triceratops locking horns. She was playful, childish, not mischievous or any ounce a brawler. Yet, the notion of weaving a web of deceit, even for a noble cause, clung to her like morning mist on a spider's web.

Tanner seemed to read her mind, for he grasped her shoulder warmly. "I know it don't sit right with ya. But sometimes what a body's called t'do demands certain means, fer the sake of those dependin' on ye."

"That is a profoundly the most meaningful few statements you could ever conceive."

"Well now, looks like somebody here finally sees m'worth! Now c'mon, we gotta steal us a horse and dinosaur critter."

Tanner and Gabrielle made it out from the clutches of the jailhouse and sauntered towards the yard, their footsteps muffled by trampled dirt. Their destination; the watchmen's stables, a haven for imported Gallimimus mounts all in their adult phases readily for use on the streets—Their speed and agility making excellent mounts, albeit perpetually nervous and overly cautious of their surroundings would have to come with infinite patience.

A symphony of chirps and birdsong created a realm of organised frenzy, a dance of stablehands orchestrating a symphony of dinosaur care. Saddle soap mingled with hay, and the occasional impatient chirp harmonised with the clatter of talons on hardwood.

"Reckon we'll have'ta cause a right ruckus to sneak past 'em," Tanner remarked quietly, both hidden with their bodies against a wall.

"What do you suggest?"

At this, Tanner smiled wickedly with amusement beyond normal. "How's your feminine wiles, spitfire?"

Gabrielle glared and harshly whispered, "I will not stoop to such tactics!"

"Suit yerself. But then we'll have'ta resort to fisticuffs."

Gabrielle hesitated, then sighed in resignation. "Very well. But only as a last resort."

Tanner nudged her forward eagerly. "Go on then, git!"

With an air of reluctant determination, Gabrielle embarked on her stride towards the stables, her voice carrying a tone that straddled sweetness and a touch of delightful awkwardness. "Good evening, gentlemen! I do hope I am not imposing, but I find myself in need of your kind assistance. Would you be so gracious as to lend me your aid?"

The stablehands and the ever-watchful stablemaster looked up, their faces contorting in a blend of befuddlement and suspicion at the sudden appearance of a peculiar young lady.

Gabrielle's voice took on a syrupy sweetness that could rival the stickiest of confections. With a tilt of her head and a flutter of her eyelashes, she transformed into a parody of coquettish charm. If looks could kill, she was probably worried about the collateral damage. "I beg your pardon for interrupting your undoubtedly important endeavours, but it appears that I have, regrettably, lost my way. Please accept my sincere apologies for any inconvenience caused."

The stablehands shared a look that would have ignited a bonfire of curiosity, yet wisely chose the path of gainful employment, returning to their tasks.

The stablemaster instead responded on their behalf, "Well, miss, if you managed to navigate your way in here, I reckon you'll have no trouble finding your way back out. Good night to you."

Gabrielle's cheeks blazed, her once-impeccable dignity now scattered. She retreated to Tanner's side, who was quaking like a man trying to suppress an overenthusiastic sneeze in church, struggling with silent laughter.

Gabrielle slapped his shoulder. "You did that on purpose!"

Tanner damn near let out a howling laughter, heaving so much it left him clinging to the wall for dear life. Sobering, he said, "Fine, fine, take a breath, would ya? It's time to mosey on over to our backup strategy."

Tanner marched towards the stable with all the subtlety of a thunderstorm in a teacup, cracking his knuckles announcing his arrival. The poor stablehands, caught in the crosshairs of his impending whirlwind, looked even more bewildered. Before he would plunge headlong into the fray, Tanner managed to shoot a flustered Gabrielle, a wink that could have melted butter in a blizzard.

Tanner's fist met the first stablehand's jaw with a satisfying thud, sending him tumbling into a hay bale. The second, armed with a pitchfork he likely hoped would inspire awe, found his target an elusive dancer. Tanner's nimble steps twirling him out of danger before his hands deftly turned the implement into a clumsy obstruction, tripping the poor soul into a trough of Galli feed. But the pièce de résistance was Tanner's encounter with the shovel-brandishing stablemaster. With the grace of a waltzing Troodon, Tanner slid just out of reach and bestowed upon the flustered stablemaster a hearty smack on his ass with indignant Parasaurolophus-like honks, eliciting the most flabbergasted expression on the victim's beet-red face. Amidst the chaos and clatter, as feathers flew and farm tools took on a life of their own, Tanner's exploits would undoubtedly become a legendary scuffle in the annals of absurd brawls.

Gabrielle's eyes widened in a mix of astonishment and amusement as the spectacle unfolded before her. Tanner, a whirlwind of mischief, had the stablehands dancing like puppets. Their furious swipes and lunges met only with air and infectious laughter. With every playful twirl and well-timed wiggle, Tanner left the stablehands efforts reduced to a futile slapstick routine. Amidst the chaos, Gabrielle's mortification gave way to an irresistible fit of giggles, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of sympathy and sheer amusement.

Dare she thought, this whole time since the chase was nothing short of entertainment for Tanner.

Before anyone could blink, the victims of Tanner's impromptu performance were sprawled amidst the straw dazed and baffled. With a flourish, he dramatically swept his hat from his head, executing a mock bow to Gabrielle, his proud grin reminiscent of a triumphant actor accepting thunderous applause. With arms outstretched, he seemed to embrace an invisible legion of admirers. "Much obliged! I thank ye all, from the bottom of mah heart!"

Gabrielle clapped delightfully. "Goodness! What a lark of a row that turned out to be!"

Tanner strode over and draped an arm around her shoulders. "Nothin' like a good slapstick fight! Now let's steal us some rides, spitfire."

Amidst shared chuckles, the pair strode into the stable, greeted by the familiar knickers and chirps of their steadfast steeds. The rescue had been a feat worthy of a Wild West tale. A sense of triumph swirled with hay-scented air as they approached their patient companions, a blend of Gabrielle's giggles and Tanner's sly satisfaction hanging over the scene like a well-earned sunset.

With a practised grace that belied her petite frame, Gabrielle closed the gap between herself and her Gallimimus. The feathery, oversized ostrich regarded her with a hint of impatience, pleasant to see his rider. As she cinched a saddle into place, there was a fondness in his gaze, a camaraderie built over their simple chase across the Massachusetts state. Beak clicking in a sound that could only be interpreted as amusement. And so, with a flourish of feathers and a deft leap, Gabrielle mounted her gallant bird.

In the next stall, Tanner wrestled with the humongous saddle, muttering a mix of affection and expletives. His towering mare, seemingly aware of the show, played along with a happy snort. With straps and buckles engaged in a wrestling match of their own as he tightened them whilst the mare nickered back in response to her rider's cheerful mood.

Then the duo went forth from the stable's confines, Gallimimus and Equus Gigenteus pounding the cobblestones in spirited unison. Gabrielle's laughter danced on the wind as her mount's nimble trot whisked her through the streets, a streak of glee in a world of stone. Not to be outdone, Tanner spurred his horse into a thunderous gallop. He bellowed greetings and raised his hat like a conquering hero to bewildered Boston residents, leaving them in his dust.

In a city where carriages and pedestrians usually held sway, the gallant sight of these two blazing through the streets on their unconventional steeds was like a novel sprung to life. The unlikely pair kicked up sparks of excitement along the cobbled streets. Gabrielle's laughter danced in the air as her dinosaur mount galloped through Boston's avenues.

Venturing beyond the city's boundaries, the landscape transformed into a tapestry of rolling fields and endless roads. With a tap of her heels, Gabrielle's Galli surged forward. Muscles rippled beneath the dinosaur's feathery hide as they hurtled through the open expanse. Tanner's earlier enigmatic nature faded into insignificance as the rhythmic pounding of hooves dissolved any lingering doubts. In the symphony of pounding hearts, lady and rogue galloped as one, weaving their own tale of liberty and unity beneath the painted canvas of the twilight sky. In that exhilarating moment, her cares melted away, replaced by the pure exhilaration of unbridled freedom.

Time flowed on, Gabrielle soon steered her mount toward a cluster of unassuming structures hugging a wooded hill. Tanner matched her pace, intrigue lighting his gaze as he studied the visible enclosures and crisply online of iron wrought fences that heralded the edges of the dinosaur sanctuary. Closer now, the gate loomed, and Gabrielle's voice cut through the air as she exchanged greetings with the vigilant guards commanding a passage in.

The gates groaned and surrendered, parting before them with the reluctant grace of an old knight yielding to a fresh challenge. Into the heart of the sanctuary, Gabrielle descended from her saddle, an effortless dismount that concluded in the waiting hands of a stableboy.

Tanner, dismounted much the same yet evidently nonplussed. "Now see here, spitfire... I done tried stickin' up this here place just this noon. How come yer bringin' me back?"

Gabrielle smiled patiently. "Because you are most deservedly due a reward beyond measure, for having retrieved the eggs safely and made our escape so cleverly. Additionally... an apology for my judgement."

Realisation visibly dawned on the cowboy and he suddenly seemed awkward, taking off his Stetson hat and fidgeting with the brim. "Well gosh durn, I plumb forgot all about the money. Ain't worthy of no apologizin' either."

Surprised by the dino wrangler's cheeks flushed red, Gabrielle couldn't help but tease. "Why, Tanner! One wonders if your confidence has taken flight?"

A grin spread across the cowboy's weathered face. "Now, c'mon. Jest 'cause a feller happens to have a spell of forgetfulness don't mean his confidence is fled. It were likely snatched away by a purty little lady like yerself. But I reckon with a reminder, it'll come wanderin' back soon enough. And if'n it don't, well then maybe you'd be so kind, miss, as to help me find it again."

The lady could feel her own cheeks heat up, yet met his gaze evenly. "Well, Tanner, it seems I may have to take on the task of finding and returning your wayward confidence. In the meantime, however, let us discuss the financial matter more civilly over a cup of tea after restoring the eggs to their nest."

As Gabrielle and Tanner ventured further into the sanctuary's grounds, a spry elderly man appeared from seemingly nowhere, hurtling toward them with the energy of a caffeinated squirrel. Waving his cane angrily, he unleashed a torrent of indignant words that seemed to sizzle in the air like errant firecrackers, leaving Tanner caught in a crossfire.

"Why you no-good rascal!" shouted Abbot. "Have you come to cause more trouble?"

Tanner held up his hands defensively. "Whoa there, old timer, no need to go wavin' that stick at me!"

Abbot's patience wore thin, his cane becoming an instrument of emphasis as he delivered a sharp jab to Tanner's leg, prompting a wobbly dance that threatened a full-fledged tumble.

"Ow! Quit it, ya codger!" Tanner yelped.

Gabrielle tried to intervene. "Abbot please, Tanner is to be our guest!"

But the old man was on a roll. He launched into a relentless tirade, a verbal storm that left Tanner bewildered and windblown. The insults flowed like a river in flood, each remark more creatively damning than the last. It was as if the old man had a thesaurus of insults committed to memory, and he was determined to recite every single entry.

Finally Abbot ran out of steam, resorting to grumbling under his breath and shooting Tanner dark looks.

Tanner took the scolding in good humour though and shot Gabrielle a wry smile. "Reckon I deserved that and more."

Gabrielle in turn could only smile back. "Abbot, allow kindness to Mr. Graves. He and I have recently come to an... understanding. A meeting of mind, you might say."

Abbot narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "From mocking thief to kin? Have you gone mad?"

"Well," Gabrielle paused, searching for the right words, "Mr. Graves recently came to my aid in a rather... delicate situation and..."

"I darn saved that lil' filly from rottin' in a cell at the city jailhouse!" Tanner interjected loud and proud, big kiddish grin and all.

"Tanner!" Gabrielle chided.

"Miss Gabrielle Hopewell!" Abbot scolded next.

"You two!" Tanner mocked, waving his hat at both English Folk.

Abbot sighed, "Should Master Randall discover the truth-"

"Which he won't," Gabrielle spoke hastily, taking Mr. Abbott's frail hands in a reassuring grasp. "This was simply a misunderstanding, easily set right. Please forgive any confusion, Abbott, and know I beg your silence on this matter."

"Very well, it's not as though I've not gone beyond the call of duty countless times before to cover up your tracks. I shall be observing this new development closely." There was a subtle mix of exasperation in his voice. While Abbot had surely "hidden misdeeds" many times before, he also remained steadfast in fulfilling his role to serve and protect those in his care, even from themselves at times.

Abbot stomped away muttering in disgruntlement, leaving Tanner to exchange a quizzical glance with Gabrielle.

Gabrielle chuckled and laid a gentle, gloved hand on Tanner's arm. "Come, a drink awaits. And perhaps a fresh start for us both."

Tanner took a deep breath, squaring his shoulders resolutely. "Lead the way, spitfire."