Crimson Highway

by David Wickenhauser

  When they were finished eating, Hugh cranked up the engine once again and pulled back onto the highway.

  It was late afternoon by the time Hugh got off the highway in Boise. He made the several turns on surface roads that got him to the company’s drop yard.

  He unhooked the trailer, and then drove over to the bobtail area of the yard. Once situated into a spot, he signed off on his Qualcomm, letting the world know that he was not available for another load.

  “That’s it,” Hugh said. They were the first words anybody had spoken since lunch. “I’m officially off duty, and heading for my parents’ place first thing in the morning.”

  Jenny looked expectantly at him.

  “Jenny, you can do anything you want, go anywhere you want. I don’t care,” he said rather curtly.

  Her crestfallen look softened him—a little bit—and he decided it might be time to lighten up on her, so he offered, “If you want, you can come with me.”

  This encouraged Jenny considerably, but all she said was, “Thanks, I’d like to.”

  He let Jenny prepare their dinner in the microwave—leftovers from the great meal she had made for him at the wild-horse truck stop. It was as delicious this time as it was the first time, but Hugh noted the considerable difference in the mood and atmosphere between the two times.

  Their bedtime routine was similar to the previous night’s. Hugh walked Jenny to the drop-yard office to use their restroom, and then they both turned in without any further conversation.

  The morning dawned a little brighter for Hugh, just because he knew he was off duty for awhile. He was headed for the home where he grew up. He looked forward to some home cooking, to some time to visit with his parents and brother and sister, and to some time alone in the woods to think about things.

  He exited the truck to perform his pre-trip, and Jenny jumped down with rags and squirt bottle in hand to take care of his windows and mirrors.

  “By the way, before I forget. Here’s what I owe you for your chores so far,” he said, fishing a number of bills out of his pocket. “You’ve done a good job, and I appreciate it.”

  Jenny gratefully accepted the money, and acknowledged his praise. “I’m happy to do it, Hugh. It makes me feel useful.”

  That little ice-breaker exchange having taken place, the atmosphere in the cab as Hugh bobtailed out to the highway was considerably lighter. Hugh still did not feel like talking to Jenny about anything that had happened, but he was at least capable of making small talk.

  He started out on Highway 55 out of Boise, then joined up with Highway 95 after about a hundred miles, just past Payette Lake. The drive along the mostly two-lane road was enjoyable—as a bobtail—not so much if he’d been under a load.

  Hugh didn’t stop until they got to Lewiston about three hours later, where he pulled into a chain travel plaza for something to eat. Hugh didn’t relish the idea of having to sit across a booth with Jenny in the restaurant, so they grabbed a couple of sub sandwiches, and took them back to the truck to eat.

  “About three-and-a-half more hours and we’ll be there,” he announced to Jenny. He could tell that she was curious about where “there” was, but he could see she was reluctant to open that conversation by asking. That was fine with him.

  They traveled past some beautiful Idaho scenery as they made their way up the Idaho panhandle. Jenny was watching the signs and, as they approached the town of Sandpoint, she saw the sign for the post-card-beautiful lake that the town was situated next to.

  “Pend-o-ri-el,” she said, pronouncing the syllables phonetically. “That’s a pretty name for a lake.”

  “Pon-do-ray,” Hugh said.

  “Huh?” Jenny said.

  “It’s pronounced ‘Pon-do-ray,’” Hugh repeated. “It’s from the French. And, I gotta tell ya that the locals are very possessive of that pronunciation.”

  They continued on through the town of Sandpoint, which Jenny greatly admired.

  Finally, a little less than a half-hour later, Hugh turned off the highway onto a well-kept-up gravel road. A few more miles, and a couple more turns later on gravel roads, and Hugh turned off the road and into the driveway of what looked to Jenny like a combination cattle and horse ranch.

  Jenny craned her neck to peer out the windshield as they passed under a massive gate. Rising on both sides of the driveway, the gate supports were made with vertical, eighteen-inch-thick, peeled logs whose bases were embedded in a massive rock-concrete matrix. There were three logs on each side of the gate starting with an eight-foot-long log on the outside, a twelve-foot log in the middle and a fourteen-foot log as the inside support.

  Across the tops of the tallest logs rested another giant log with the ranch’s name engraved in it—“The Mann Ranch.” The cross piece had more than enough height for Hugh to drive his 13’6” tall Freightliner underneath it, and through the gate.

  “Wow!” Jenny exclaimed. “That is something!”

  “Yeah, I’ve got a goodly amount of my own blood, sweat and tears in that thing,” Hugh said. “I helped build it.”

  On both sides of the ranch name were burned giant versions of the ranch’s brand.

  Anticipating Jenny’s question, Hugh explained that the brand was called “H M Connected.”

  “Hugh Mann?” Jenny asked. “H M Connected, for the Hugh Mann Ranch?”

  “That’s right,” Hugh replied. “That’s also my dad’s name. But, my dad likes to say it also stands for Hugh-Martha connected—because they are.”

  “And, Martha is …?”

  “My mom.”

  “That’s sweet,” Jenny said.

  More of the ranch came into view as Hugh maneuvered his truck up the quarter-mile-long serpentine driveway.

  Hugh could see Jenny’s eyes getting real big as the main ranch house loomed before them. It was a log house but, more accurately, it was a log house on steroids. Constructed of massive birch logs, the huge house rose two-and-a-half stories, and was surrounded by a giant, wrap-around porch.

  Beautiful plantings and rock-work accented the outside landscaping. Carefully thought-out tree plantings punctuated the whole look.

  “It is beautiful,” Jenny exclaimed in awe. “It looks like a park.”

  Then she caught sight of the horse stable, and the several horses that had come to the fence to see who had driven up the driveway.

  “They’re beautiful!” she said breathlessly, almost unable to speak.

  Hugh parked the truck, and gave a toot on the air horn. As they exited the truck, and jumped down onto the gravel driveway, a pretty, trim woman, who appeared to be in her middle fifties, came out of the house and stood at the top of the porch steps. She was drying her hands on her apron.

  “My Lord, look who’s here,” she exclaimed. She ran down the steps, threw her arms around Hugh, and gave him a huge hug. She had to stand on her tiptoes to do it.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Hugh could see Jenny standing off to the side. And he knew her well-enough by now to know that she was probably feeling like an intruder to this tender family moment.

  “Well, Hughey, just look at you,” his mom said, holding his face with both hands. “My, but you just get more handsome every day.”

  “Come on, Ma, stop it,” Hugh replied, but it was obvious that he was immensely enjoying this attention from his mom.

  “Hughey, could you … ” Jenny started to say, but Hugh cut her off.

  “Ma, I’d like to introduce you to Jenny McDonald. Jenny this is my mom, Martha Mann.”

  “Pleased to meet you Mrs. Mann,” Jenny said, and offered her hand.

  “Heavens, girl. It’s Martha. None of that Mrs. stuff,” she said, ignoring Jenny’s hand and giving her a big hug. “Or, on second thought, should you be calling me ‘Mom?’” she asked, and laughed, at the same time giving Hugh a sidelong glance.

  Before they could respond, Martha placed herself between Hugh and Jenny, then linked her arms in theirs, and marched them up the porch stairs
, and into the house.

  Hugh could tell that Jenny had quickly forgotten his mom’s little tease, as she encountered the foyer and great room of the large log house. She stood in awe of the huge double-wide set of curving stairs that led up to the second floor. The great room was indeed great—they could have held a ball in it. A giant, ranch-themed chandelier hung from the open-beamed, full-height cathedral ceiling.

  “Oh, please forgive me,” Martha said, turning to Jenny. “You would probably like to freshen up after your long ride. Let me show you to the powder room.” She led Jenny off.

  When Hugh’s mom returned, she walked up directly to Hugh and stood there with a “Well?” expression on her face.

  “She’s just a friend, Ma.” Hugh said. “Actually, she’s not really even that. She’s just a hitchhiker I picked up a few days ago. She has nowhere else to go right now, and I couldn’t leave her. So here we are.”

  “Uh-huh,” his mom said, skepticism written all over her face. “And why are you here, buster? What’s happened? I saw the smashed-up fender of the truck you drove up in.”

  Hugh thought, as he had more than once before, that his mom knew him too well.

  “It’s a long story, Ma, and I don’t want to get into it right now,” he answered, and then was saved from further questioning by Jenny’s return.

  Martha was just getting dinner ready when Hugh had pulled in, so she invited them into the kitchen to chat with her while she finished up. Hugh and Jenny sat at the huge, hand-hewn birch trestle table that could probably seat twenty. Martha offered them coffee, which they gratefully accepted.

  “Dad and Roly will be back any minute. And Mary is just finishing up in the stables,” Martha explained.

  Hugh caught Jenny’s questioning look, and told her, “Roly is my little brother Roland. He’s… what? Mom… 24 by now? And Mary is my baby sister. She’s 18 going on 25.”

  Martha and Hugh both laughed together at that.

  Martha said, in explanation to Jenny, “I know that’s an unusual spread in ages for having kids, but that’s just what God gave us. And we couldn’t be happier about it.”

  They heard footsteps on the porch, and a very pretty blonde girl who could have been a twin to Jenny came bursting in. “Ma, that truck! Is Hughey home?” Then she spied her big brother, and launched herself at him in a full-body bear hug.

  Once he had untangled himself from her, he exclaimed, laughing, “Well, Sis, I see you haven’t lost any of your abundant energy.”

  “No way, Bro. So, what are we going to do while you’re here?”

  Even though Mary had just been born when Hugh had left home, every time Hugh had come to visit, he and Mary had always found time to do something special together—going camping, riding out on the horses, whitewater rafting, hunting—giving Mary many memories of her big brother that she treasured.

  “We’ll talk about that later,” he said. Then, looking over at Jenny, he said, “Mary, I’d like to introduce you to Jenny. Jenny, Mary.”

  Jenny mumbled a hello, somewhat overwhelmed by the young, effervescent, bundle of energy that had come bursting through the door.

  “Whoa, Nellie. Hughey’s got a wife!” Mary exclaimed.

  Then she became confused by the expression that passed between Hugh and Jenny. “Oops, sorry. Not a wife. Girlfriend?” Mary asked trying to rescue the situation, but realizing she was probably making it worse.

  Hugh’s mom came to the rescue with the grace and tact that she always exhibited. “Mary, Jenny is a friend of Hugh’s who needed a place to be, and he brought her here to us.”

  “Jenny, honey, just consider us your family. You are welcome to stay with us for as long as you want to,” Martha said.

  Jenny could only nod her thanks, as tears welled in her eyes, and the lump in her throat prevented her from speaking.

  Mary and Martha just looked at each other, and then at Hugh, who sat there stone-faced.

  Jenny was saved from further embarrassment by the sound of heavy footsteps on the porch.

  Two big men, carbon copies of Hugh himself, came in through the door. One was older than Hugh, but still quite handsome. The other was a younger, even more handsome, version of Hugh. The father and two sons together represented a big chunk of healthy, strapping, Idaho manhood.

  Hugh’s dad went immediately over to give his wife a hello kiss, and then a peck on his daughter’s forehead. Then he walked up to Hugh and gave him a big, manly bear hug, back slaps all around.

  Hugh’s brother said, “Hello, Ma,” and “Hiya, Sis.” Then he did a double-take on his way to greet his brother when he saw Jenny.

  “Whoa, Bro, who’ve we got here?” he remarked.

  Hugh went through the introductions again, there were “pleased-to-meet-yous” all around. And then Martha ordered everybody to wash up for dinner.

  Once all were sitting at the table, and plates were filled with food, Hugh’s dad said the blessing.

  “Dear Heavenly Father, we just thank you for bringing Hugh and Jenny safely home to us. Thank you for all the blessings you have given us, especially for the food you have provided, the roof over our heads, and the health that we enjoy. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.”

  To Jenny’s evident relief, Hugh noticed, the table conversation didn’t revolve around her, or her relationship with Hugh. They engaged in the usual chatter of a busy family running a ranch together. Hugh saw that Jenny was content to eat her meal, and to acknowledge with the occasional nod some remark made by one of her fellow diners.

  Martha had sensed that there was tension between Hugh and Jenny. So, gracious as always, she carefully steered the conversation so as not to make Hugh and Jenny the center of attention.

  But Hugh noticed Roly stealing more than the occasional glance Jenny’s way. He had forgotten just how attractive Jenny was, and how she had sometimes affected him back when he’d still had some feelings for her.

  With dinner over, Jenny offered to help clear the table and fill the dishwasher. Martha graciously accepted her offer—not because she and Mary needed help with this routine chore, but because she knew how a guest liked to feel useful and thankful after being treated to such a good meal.

  Both Hughs, and Roly, retired to the family room.

  Roly, ever the outspoken one, cut right to the chase. “OK, Bro. What is it with you and Jenny? Are you married? Shacking up? What?”

  “Roly, she’s just a hitchhiker I picked up several days ago. She has nowhere else to go, and I needed some time away from the truck, so I decided to bring her home with me.”

  “Hmmn,” Roly said.

  “Listen, Roly. She’s a very troubled young lady who has been through more in the last few days than you could ever imagine. So, leave her alone. Give her some space. OK?”

  Jenny came out of the kitchen following Martha, who announced that she was going to show Jenny to the guest bedroom.

  Jenny announced to the room in general, “Goodnight everyone. Thanks for the great meal, and for making me feel welcome in your home.” With that, she followed Martha up the stairs.

  “Wait a minute, Jenny,” Mary said. “I’ll come with you. We’re about the same size, and I can give you some things to wear.”

  After the girls had left, Hugh told his dad and brother. “Listen, guys, I’d love to stay and chat with you, but it’s been a long, hard few days, and I am all beat. Is my room still available?”

  “Yeah, it’s a mess, just like you left it the last time you came home,” Roly said, laughing.

  “Good night all,” Hugh said. Then he climbed the stairs to his room.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Jenny

  Jenny ascended the stairs between Martha, who was in the lead, and Mary, who was bringing up the rear. Jenny noted how beautifully, and efficiently, the upstairs area of the house had been laid out. The upstairs hallway encircled the house with rooms all along the outer perimeter. It had a view out over the great room in the other direction. It was like a giant balc
ony around the inside of the whole house.

  “Wait. Come in here,” Mary said, putting her hand on Jenny’s shoulder, and leading her into what Jenny assumed was Mary’s bedroom. “I didn’t see you with any luggage, so I assumed you need just about everything.”

  Jenny nodded, sensitive to anything that might resemble a condescending attitude from this young girl. But, she had to admit that Hugh’s little sister definitely seemed like the real deal—a very sweet kid.

  Mary went to a closet, and pulled down a beautiful flannel nightgown. She held it up to Jenny for size. “Perfect,” she said.

  And Jenny had to agree that it was as if it were made for her.

  Mary then went around her room, drawing things out of her closet and dresser drawers.

  With Jenny’s hands full of just about everything Mary thought Jenny might need, Mary guided her toward the guest bedroom. Martha was in there already, turning on lights, and arranging pillows and covers.

  “Hi, Jenny. This room has its own bathroom already stocked with brand new toothbrushes, and everything else you might need,” Martha said.

  “Thank you, Martha. I just don’t know what to say. I’m overwhelmed by your kindness … all of you,” Jenny said, looking at Mary as well.

  “You’re welcome Jenny. For as long as you are here, we’ll refer to this as ‘Jenny’s Room,’” Martha said.

  “Thank you,” Jenny replied, barely able to hold back her tears.

  Martha and Mary turned to leave. Then Martha hesitated, and turned back.

  In a quieter voice than what she had been using, Martha said, “I’m sorry Jenny, I just have to ask.”

  Jenny nodded.

  “Things are awfully strained between you two. Has my son hurt you in any way? Are you … OK?” Martha left the “OK” part open to interpretation.

  “Oh, Martha, no,” Jenny cried. She literally cried. “Your son is the most wonderful man I have every known,” she said, tears pouring from her eyes, and sobs coming with the words. “I am the one who has hurt him. I hurt him so bad …” She couldn’t finish her words. Crying was all she could do.