Winter's Journey Read online

  “Your father’s not driving anymore?”

  “No. He’s not living anymore. He died a couple of years back of cancer.” His eyes took her in and there was a downward curve to his lips.

  “I’m sorry.” She knew how he felt. Her dad was dead, too, and she still missed him. Her mother and grandmother were both alive, in another state, but she saw them when she could and they were still close. Her mom called every week and Loretta and Tessa tried to visit them most Christmases.

  “Don’t be sorry. Everyone has to die sometime. It was his time.”

  Odd thing to say, she thought. And time to change the subject. She didn’t want to learn the man’s life history. She wanted to get her truck fixed. “I guess you don’t happen to have a spare filter in one of your pockets I could take off your hands for a little cash?”

  “No.” His smile transformed his face into a friendly one. “But are you, by chance, heading anywhere near Cheyenne?”

  The coincidence didn’t escape her. “I am. In fact it’s my destination.” Now why did she tell him that? She never picked up hitchhikers. It was too dangerous. The last thing she needed was a hitchhiker mooching off her. Then she felt guilty. He’d helped her with the drunken trucker and confirmed what was wrong with her truck, so the least she could do was to consider giving him a ride.

  “I’ll tell you what,” he said. “If you give me a ride to Cheyenne, I’ll help you find a fuel filter, and I’ll install it for no charge. What do you say?”

  She hesitated and he added, “I know what I’m doing. I must have put in fifty of those critters in my time. I could do it with my eyes closed. But I won’t.” That easy smile again.

  A hundred reasons to turn his offer down occurred to her, not the least being he could be a fugitive on the lam for all she knew. Yet she wanted her truck fixed so badly her mouth went ahead and betrayed her by agreeing, “Deal,” before she knew what she was saying. She regretted it the minute it came out but then it was too late.

  “Good,” he said quickly as if he was afraid she’d change her mind. “Let me collect my gear out of the Peterbilt, move it off the parking lot and out of the way, and then I’ll take care of your fuel filter. You can go on inside the restaurant, relax, and get yourself a cup of coffee. You look like you need one. I’ll meet you inside when I’m done.”

  “You sure I can’t help?”

  “No. I’ve got it under control. Go get warm.”

  Loretta stood up, grabbed her purse from the cab, and moved in the direction of the lighted restaurant as the man she’d just met disappeared around the other truck. She heard the door opening, heard the Peterbilt change gears and saw it move into the deeper blackness at the rear of the parking lot. Out of sight. The lights and the engine died.

  Inside the truck stop’s restaurant, it felt good to be somewhere warm and full of people. Halloween witches and cats hung on the walls and miniature pumpkins sat in the middle of all the tables. Halloween wasn’t that far away. Tessa wanted to be Sherlock Holmes this year. Loretta had no idea where to get that costume.

  She was sitting in a booth under a dim bulb nursing a cup of coffee, already having called and checked in with Tessa, when her new passenger joined her. He traveled light. A well-worn brown leather traveling bag hung from his shoulder. The bag couldn’t have held more than a few changes of clothes. He plunked it down on the seat beside him.

  “I’d about given up on you,” she remarked. “Thought you’d hitched off with someone else or I’d dreamed you.”

  “Nah, I’m real enough.”

  Loretta had inventoried her image in the restroom’s mirror before she’d ordered her coffee. She’d combed out and re-braided her tousled hair and straightened herself up a little, feeling foolish that she cared what an aimless drifter thought of her. A man she’d give a lift to and never see again.

  Her stranger, his body lean and graceful and his face startlingly handsome except for a thin scar on the right side of his face, looked even better in the light. He didn’t behave like a derelict or a loser. His gaze was steady and his sharp eyes were understanding.

  “Your truck’s fixed, ma’am. Good as new. Seems the guy who came on to you out in the parking lot had an extra used fuel filter tucked away in the back of his truck. I didn’t think he’d mind if we borrowed it. He owes you that for aggravating you the way he did. So your rig and your oranges are ready to go whenever you are.”

  He lowered his lanky body into the booth and ordered a cup of coffee from the hovering plump waitress with the greasy apron.

  “It’s still stealing.”

  He shrugged. “He won’t miss it. He had another one for a spare.”

  She didn’t know what to say. It was sneaky, underhanded, and she didn’t like it, plus she wasn’t going to be a thief. “Well, before we go I’ll give you forty bucks, that’s about what a used one costs, and you can leave it in his truck as payment for what we took.”

  “Ah, an honest woman.”

  “I try to be. And thank you for putting in the filter. I’m in your debt.”

  His hand waved her words away. “Giving me a ride to Cheyenne and buying me a cup of coffee will be payment enough. That and the company of such a lovely lady.”

  It wasn’t a come on. It was a simple compliment. “Of course I’ll spring for your coffee. It’s the least I can do after what you’ve done for me.”

  “I haven’t done that much.” He smiled but she noticed that his gaze suspiciously scanned the people around them as if he were looking for someone. “That trucker on the parking lot wasn’t much of a threat, but sometimes it can be chancy on the road for a woman alone. You ever think of carrying a weapon—for protection, I mean?”

  “No. I’ve never had any problems more than being whistled at.” No one had bothered her the last two years and before that Jed had protected her. “But my sister wants me to take karate lessons or something.”

  “Good idea. I knew this woman trucker once who never left her truck except to pump gas, pick up fast food, or use the restrooms. She left the safety of the cab only when she had to. She wouldn’t even go into the truck stops or rest stops at night from fear of being bothered, and she slept every night locked in her truck’s sleeper. She was mistrustful of everyone. So afraid she’d be approached and hassled. She wasn’t even a looker like you.”

  “That’s being way too paranoid for me. I couldn’t live like that.”

  “No, you couldn’t, could you?” He met her eyes. “You’re a trusting woman. Unafraid.”

  She laughed. “True, most of the time I’m not afraid. I believe that if you give them a chance most people are good. I have to drive alone and I have to make a living. I can’t let my fear get the best of me.”

  He gave her a cynical glance. “Then I strongly advise you to take those defense classes. Out here, terrible things happen sometimes to good people. There’s evil in the world and it’s best to be prepared. That’s my motto.”

  “And a fine one it is.” She changed the subject. “How did you know I was carrying oranges?”

  “I snuck a look inside the trailer. Almost took one, they smelled so good. But I didn’t.”

  He smiled. She smiled. The way he was studying her made her blush. He affected her that way. She found herself lightly flirting with him, and it had been a long time since she’d done that.

  “You ready to hit the road again, Miss Truck Driver? Oh, by the way, my name is Sam Emerson. Yours?” He put out his hand. She took it and was startled at how strong his grip was, how warm his flesh. She withdrew her hand too quickly and caught his teasing grin.

  “My name’s Loretta Brennan. I’m not leaving tonight, as much as I need to. I’ve got a deadline to meet or I’ll lose my bonus. But I’m exhausted and have to get my eight hours sleep. You know, ten on and eight off?”

  “I know it well. Got to follow the rules, don’t we?” He was staring at her again but his expression was unreadable. He’d taken his hat off and had laid it on the table b
eside him. His hair needed combing, his shirt was open at the collar, and his weary face was dusty. But he still exuded an animal sensuality that wasn’t lost on her as tired as she was. He was the kind of man women wanted to touch. She wished she’d met him under better circumstances, like when he wasn’t hitchhiking and she looked better than she did now.

  “I try to,” she replied. “I don’t take chances with my livelihood or my truck, and I usually never pick up hitchhikers. You’re lucky I’m out of my mind tonight.”

  He laughed for the first time and she liked the deep spontaneous sound of it. For a moment she had the uncanny feeling that she knew him from somewhere. That he wasn’t a stranger at all. She was sure she’d never met him before.

  His coffee arrived and once he’d dumped a ton of sugar in it, he gulped it down in seconds. She’d never seen anyone use so much sugar and couldn’t keep from smiling. He asked for a refill and it disappeared just as fast.

  He was hungry, that’s what it was, and he didn’t have any money. That’s why he hadn’t ordered anything to eat. She leaned over and asked softly, “You’re low on money aren’t you?”

  A flash of anger or wounded pride changed the hue of his eyes, but it was gone before she was sure it had even been there. Resignation took its place. “A little low on funds at the moment, yes. I’ve been on the road for a while and I’m in between jobs.”

  “Let me treat you then and pay you back for helping me?”

  He didn’t argue. “Thank you,” he replied simply. “I could use a hamburger.”

  “How do you like it?”

  “Well done and with everything.” He grinned his thanks and she was glad she’d offered.

  The waitress returned for their orders and after she finished fawning over Sam, Loretta ordered two hamburgers, both well done, and French fries. More coffee. The waitress smiled over her shoulder at Sam when she sauntered off.

  He was a heartbreaker all right. The kind of man to stay away from, Loretta warned herself as she drank her coffee and tried not to stare. He had the loveliest wavy hair and intense brown eyes.

  They made small talk until the food came. Sam had his meal eaten before she’d had two bites of hers. When the waitress returned to refill Sam’s cup, Loretta ordered another hamburger for him. He tried to stop her but she wouldn’t hear of it.

  They got along well. Sam had an easy way about him. He knew a lot about so many subjects and had a sense of humor, too. He’d made her smile a couple of times and even laugh again by the time supper was over. She’d been right about him being smart.

  It wouldn’t be so bad having him for company on the way to Cheyenne. It wouldn’t be so bad not being lonely for a while. Sam, as strange as it seemed, made her feel safer.

  During the meal her eyes kept going to the entrance, uneasy that at any moment her drunken friend would show up again to pester her. He didn’t. Loretta hoped he was okay, but also hoped he’d wake up with a head-splitting headache for drinking and driving. It’d serve him right.

  By the time the food was gone, Loretta’s mind and body reacted to her weariness, and she was half asleep at the table. Which brought up another dilemma. What was she going to do with her guest? He didn’t have money and he didn’t have a place to sleep. She had the sleeper, but where was Sam going to bed down? It was too cold for him to sleep outside even if she lent him the sleeping bag she kept packed in the back of the cab for emergencies.

  Sam solved her problem. “Seeing you yawning over the French fries, I’ve been thinking. You have to rest for eight hours. You have that tight deadline. And there’s bad weather coming...so...I have another proposition for you.” He was on his fourth cup of coffee.

  He sure drinks a lot of coffee, she thought. Her attention caught up with his last words. She hoped he wasn’t about to make a pass at her. She’d just begun to like him. “What?”

  “Remember when I told you I drove a semi for years?”

  “I remember.”

  “My commercial license is still valid. I’ve been taking a break from driving for a while, but I’ll make an exception in this case. I’ve been napping on and off most of the day on my ride out here so instead of merely riding with you to Cheyenne I could drive this next shift if you’d let me. If you’d trust me to drive your rig, that is? You could sleep your eight hours in the back, and we could drive team to Cheyenne.”

  At first she was unsure. His offer had taken her by surprise. “Well, let me ask you this: Are you a good driver?”

  “I am. I’ve never had an accident, and I’ve never gotten a ticket.”

  His record then was better than hers. She’d had one small accident when she’d been learning to drive and had acquired two speeding tickets over the years. “Why do you think I’m desperate enough to let a perfect stranger drive my truck?”

  “You’re carrying produce. There’s always a short turnaround for that. So your deadline must be real tight. Near impossible, right, with the bad weather coming?”

  “You got it.” She thought about his offer. To trust Baby Blue to a man she’d just met...how could she do that?

  “You won’t have to pay me anything.” There was a subtle pleading in his eyes. His fingers played around with the empty sugar packets spread over the table. He’d collected them into a neat pile. “Almost nothing, just food and a bit of money for a shower along the way. I could use both.” He smiled and she was pulled in.

  “I can’t—”

  “Trust a homeless drifter to drive your precious truck?” There was a glint of defiant despair in his manner.

  For some reason his reply got to her. He’d helped her twice and hadn’t said or made a suspicious move since she’d met him. She had a strong intuition he wouldn’t hurt her, and she trusted her intuitions.

  Only there was something off about him. Something he was concealing. She could see it in his eyes when he thought she wasn’t looking. Oh, she was being silly. She was just tired. He was probably what he appeared to be, a man down on his luck looking for a break. These days there were a lot of them.

  “If you need references I have the phone numbers of the last two places I drove for. They’ll vouch for me.”

  “That would help. But I haven’t seen you drive. I don’t turn my rig over to just anyone. It has nothing to do with you. I’d be this way with any driver when it comes to my truck.”

  “I see. Then give me a driving test first.”

  “Can I see your license?” She held out her hand.

  He dug out a wallet, pulled the license, and gave it to her. His Commercial Driver’s License, a CDL, which allowed him to drive a semi, was in order and up to date.

  She handed it back to him.

  Heaven knew she needed help. Would she be tempting fate to turn down Sam’s when it was presented? She could call his references but, since he’d mentioned them, she had the feeling they’d check out fine.

  He was watching her. Waiting.

  She went with her gut feeling. “All right, you have a deal. You can come along and we’ll share the driving duties.” She reached out and shook his hand. “I’ll start the shift out with you and see how you do. Consider yourself on probation.”

  Relief flooded his face. In his response she saw a hunger to be accepted and to belong. “You won’t be sorry.”

  “I better not be. Are you ready to go?”

  “I’m ready.”

  After paying the waitress for the food and using the restrooms, they walked out to the truck, fueled it up, and prepared to leave. She checked to make sure the fuel filter was on correctly. It was. She made sure Sam took the money for the part they’d taken and left it in beer belly’s truck where he’d see it when he came to.

  “The man’s still sleeping it off,” Sam reported, “and probably will be for the rest of the night.”

  She’d seen the Peterbilt silently sitting at the rear of the parking lot and was glad its drunken driver would be off the road. Then she forgot about him. They were leaving.

&nb
sp; Loretta sat beside her new driver and scrutinized everything he did as he took the truck out onto the night highway. A layer of frost sparkled on the slender tree limbs and there was the scent of snow in the air. The weatherman had been right. The north was going to have an early winter and they’d be driving into it.

  Sam turned out to be a competent driver. He knew what he was doing, and not many drivers could make her feel as secure as he did. So far he was doing fine.

  “Yep, it’s true,” he joked with her after the first ten minutes or so and as the road dipped into shadows and the dark claimed them, “I’m a good driver.”

  There was something about being with Sam that made Loretta feel happy. She didn’t crawl into the sleeper immediately, though she could have. As drowsy as she was, she remained in the passenger seat and got to know Sam better.

  They talked about trucking, why she was on this job, and a little about themselves. They made a lot of small talk, her more than Sam. Yet she revealed little about her personal life or Tessa. Loretta might trust Sam to drive her truck but there was still something about him that kept her from getting too friendly with him too quick. She was a trusting woman but she wasn’t stupid.

  For Sam’s part, he seemed content behind the wheel, the passing cars and trucks’ headlights whispering across his handsome face. The food and a purpose had revived him and he seemed a happier man than the one she’d first met.

  I should get some sleep, she kept telling herself as the miles rolled past and cities and towns swept by. But the man beside her was interesting. The things he spoke of, the way he laughed or turned his head to smile at her, the gentle way he teased her.

  Sam entertained her with stories of the road and his life. He told jokes, most of which were awful. She laughed anyway. He had this way about him. Charisma is what her mother would have called it. He wore it like a well-fitting piece of clothing.