But what about a truck? A big rig? She was walking beside a major highway and a huge semi was barreling through the snow that covered the road. Impulsively, she stepped out into the road. If the truck hit her, she wouldn’t be any worse off, she thought miserably. At least she’d be with her mother.
The truck driver had good brakes. He stopped, pulled to the side of the road, and got out, leaving the engine idling.
He opened the passenger door and looked down at the pretty little blonde. Her long hair was tangled and she was wearing a fur jacket—probably fake, he thought gently, like that gaudy paste ring she was wearing that sparkled in the headlights. She didn’t look like a prostitute. She looked frightened. “Miss, you okay?” he asked in a drawl.
She smiled wanly. “I’m sorry,” she said, almost choking on anguish. “I’ve just lost my mother and I wasn’t . . . wasn’t thinking. I have to get to my cousin.”
He smiled gently. He was an older man. She didn’t know why, but she felt that she could trust him. “Where’s your cousin live?” he asked.
“Up near the Wyoming border,” she blurted out. Her mother had mentioned a friend who’d lived there once, but she couldn’t remember a name. “Benton, Colorado,” she added.
He chuckled. “Now that’s a hell of a coincidence. Come on.” He led her back to the truck and knocked on the sleeper cab. A sleepy, heavyset blond woman opened her eyes. “Jack?” she asked the man. “What’s wrong?”
“We’ve got a passenger. She’s headed to Benton, hitchhiking.”
Esther started to deny it, but this was working out better than she’d dreamed. “I have to get to my cousin,” she explained in her soft voice. “My mother . . . just died.” She choked up.
“Oh, honey.” The blond woman, dressed in jeans and flannel, tumbled out of the sleeper and caught Esther up in her arms, hugging her. “There, there, it’s okay. We’ll get you to your cousin.”
Esther bawled. She’d lucked up. At least she had some hope of getting away before Darrin could catch her. And he’d never think that she’d be hitching rides in big rigs.
“You get right in front with Jack. I’ve been driving for twelve straight hours and I’m burned out.” She chuckled. “We’re a team. Well, we’re married, but we’re both truckers, so I’m his relief driver.”
“It must be interesting,” Esther said.
“Interesting and never dull,” the woman said, smiling.
“Thanks so much,” Esther began.
“We all have dark times,” the driver, Jack, told her. “They pass. Buckle up and let’s get going. You had anything to eat?”
“Oh, yes, I’m fine, thanks,” she lied.
He saw through that. Her pale blue eyes were full of anguish. “There’s a great truck stop a few hours down the road. We’ll pull in and have some of the best barbecue in the country. You like barbecue?”
“I do,” Esther said, and smiled.
“Okay, then. Let’s be off!”
* * *
The trucker’s wife was Glenda, and they were the nicest couple Esther had ever met. Down-to-earth, simple people, with no wealth or position, but they seemed outrageously happy. They made her feel like family.
She paid for her own supper out of her allowance that she hadn’t had time to spend, and theirs, despite their protests. “You’re giving me a ride and you won’t let me pay for gas, so I’m buying food,” she said stubbornly, and smiled.
They both laughed. “Okay, then,” Glenda agreed. “Thank you.”
“No. Thanks to both of you,” she returned.
After supper it was back in the truck again. Four hours down the road, the truck stopped and Glenda got behind the wheel.
Esther was amazed at how the small woman could handle the big truck. “You’re amazing,” she exclaimed. “How in the world can you manage such a huge vehicle?”
“My daddy taught me to drive when I was only eleven,” Glenda said as she pulled out onto the highway and the big truck started to slowly accelerate. “I can drive anything, even those big earthmovers. I love heavy equipment,” she added with a flush of embarrassment. “It’s why I married Jack. He drove these big rigs, and I loved them. Well, I loved him, too,” she confessed. “The big lug. I couldn’t do without him.”
Esther, who’d never really been in love, just nodded as if she understood. She really didn’t. She’d lived like a hothouse orchid all her life, kept at home because her mother didn’t like it if she had friends; they interfered with her