by Gail Sattler
She caught up quickly, but when she did, he quickened his pace, which forced her to speed up too. She caught up to him again, but he ran faster still. Gwen ran for all she was worth, and by the time they neared the end of the circular path around the area, she was ahead of him.
She raised her hands in the air as they crossed the imaginary finish line where they began, beside the truck. “I won! I beat you!” she gasped.
Lionel stood still and bent at the waist, resting his hands on his knees for a few seconds before he straightened. “Whew!” he panted. “I’m more out of shape than I thought.”
Gwen shook her head while she also struggled to catch her breath. “Me too. I’m not used to this anymore.”
Without any further discussion, they walked around the path once again as their breathing and heart rates slowed to normal. Then they hopped back into the truck, this time with Gwen in the driver’s seat.
After driving awhile, Gwen couldn’t hold back a giggle. “I suppose I should tell you that I jog around the field before school twice a week with my students to keep in shape. Our jog often turns into a race. I don’t always win.”
His answering smile quickened her heartbeat, even though their race was long over. “I suppose I should tell you that I sit all day.”
“You didn’t do too bad for someone so old and out of shape.”
His hands went to his stomach, which, from what Gwen had previously seen, was not the least bit out of shape. “I’m not that bad. I do make an effort to get some exercise. And I’m not that old, I’m only thirty-one!”
“I’m thirty, and I beat you.”
“Let’s see if you can beat me on the last day of summer, after you’ve been driving for two months. I think that’s enough time to lose that edge. And you will lose it.”
Gwen opened her mouth to issue a challenge but snapped it shut before she spoke. A situation exactly like this had gotten her into this mess in the first place. Only, for something that was such a mess, she really was enjoying herself.
Lionel turned the radio on and they rode without conversation, until he yawned. “I think not getting enough sleep is catching up with me. I’m tired. If you don’t mind, I’m going to crawl into the back.”
She shook her head. “Not at all. Good night.”
When the curtain closed behind her, Gwen turned the music down to a level slightly lower than what Lionel had said when they tested it earlier. After a few songs, she hadn’t heard from him asking her to turn it down, so she assumed he was able to fall asleep without difficulty.
This time she was more relaxed driving alone in the night, although driving through the flatlands of Colorado instead of through the mountains at night might have had something to do with it. She enjoyed the music and was pleased to see that many of the CDs in his collection were also her favorites.
At sunrise Gwen pulled into a truck stop, but this time Lionel poked his head out before she left the truck. “Sleep well?” she asked.
He mumbled something that might have been a yes, and Gwen tried to stifle her smile.
“What’s so funny?” he grumbled as he sat on the edge of the bunk to tie the laces on his sneakers.
“Are you always crabby in the morning?”
“I’m not crabby. The light’s too bright.”
They walked together into the building but parted ways as soon as they entered. As soon as Gwen sat at the table, she made a note of the time in her logbook, then pulled out the novel she’d half-read and ordered a coffee while she waited for Lionel.
She read a whole chapter by the time he joined her, and again all traces of his earlier mood were gone. His hair was combed and slightly damp, he’d shaved, and he wore new clothes.
“Later today when we stop and fuel, I’ve got to do laundry. This is the last of my clean stuff. Remember, I didn’t make it home after my last trip. They dispatched me straight out.”
She hadn’t thought about doing laundry. After her first trip with Uncle Chad, they’d had a couple of days at home. Even though she didn’t do much other than laundry and make a number of phone calls the first day, she didn’t think about the possibility that she might have to do laundry away from home.
Another good thing about being single and living at home was that she didn’t have to worry about coming home to an empty fridge. When she got back, her mother had made a feast for dinner and then invited not only Garrett and Robbie but also Molly and Ken. As expected, Molly nattered on and on about what a dumb idea it was for her to be driving all summer. Gwen had passed off the remarks, but now, when it was too late to do anything about it, she could acknowledge that, even though she’d had a nice enough time with Lionel, Molly was right. She was crazy for doing this.
Lionel ordered bacon and eggs, which was fine for him because it was breakfast and it was, after all, six in the morning. However, Gwen had been driving for seven hours, and she was famished.
The waitress didn’t bat an eyelash, but Lionel nearly choked on his coffee when Gwen ordered a hamburger and fries with all the trimmings. She waited for him to comment, but this time he didn’t take the bait.
This time they didn’t linger. As soon as they were finished eating, they climbed back into the truck, ready to roll. They needed to save their non-driving time for later so Lionel could do his laundry.
Gwen liked the early morning best of all. It was nearing the end of Lionel’s eight-hour break, and even though the meal helped refresh her, she was more than ready to switch drivers. She needed to relax.
As she continued to drive, an eagle soared overhead. The sunrise had been beautiful, but now that it was daylight, she wanted to take in the beauty of the fields and meadows on either side of the highway and take some pictures. During her short time as a trucker, she’d already seen many different kinds of birds and animals, including a fox or something at the side of the road a few miles back. From time to time, cute little gophers scampered across the highway.
“It sure is pretty in the morning,” she sighed. “Everything is so fresh, the heat of the day hasn’t made the birds and animals seek shelter yet.”
Lionel raised one finger in the air and leaned back in his seat. “There are animals out at night too. You just don’t see them.”
“Yes, I have. Last night I saw a couple of deer at the side of the road. Their eyes caught the headlights and they froze when the light was on them, just like the textbooks say they do.”
“I didn’t mean the deer. In some parts you’ll see moose too, by the way. I was talking about other critters. Snakes and lizards and things that go bump in the night.”
She turned her head, gave him a big, fake, toothy smile, then turned back to the road. “Don’t try to frighten me by talking about bats and bugs and stuff. They don’t scare me, so don’t waste your time. My brother is a forest ranger, and you wouldn’t believe the animals and creepy crawlies he’s been so kind to show me over the years.”
He grinned back. “I had to try. So unseemly creatures don’t scare you. Big, loud-mouthed truckers don’t scare you. Tell me, what does scare you?”
Gwen shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know. Lots of things.” One thing that was scaring her right now was Lionel, even though there was nothing big or loud-mouthed about him, nor did he have scales or smell bad. He made her feel comfortable, which in itself wasn’t a bad thing, but he made her feel too comfortable. There were times they didn’t need words, they knew what the other was thinking and acted accordingly. The only person she’d ever experienced that connection with was her brother, but that wasn’t the same. They were twins, and over the years she’d learned that the bond she shared with Garrett was unique.
She didn’t know anything about Lionel beyond what Uncle Chad had told her and what she’d learned herself in the past couple of weeks. And now, traveling across the continent with a man she barely knew, she should have been frightened, or at least nervous. Instead, beyond the few awkward moments she knew would happen, she trusted him completely. Sh
e shouldn’t have. She felt comfortable around him. And that made her nervous.
“What scares me is one of the kids in my Sunday school class. I teach grades eight and nine from Monday to Friday, but on Sundays I got the grade fives this year. There’s one boy in the class who I think spends his spare time dreaming up something bizarre to do when he gets to church. Last month he came with his hamster in his pocket. I put it in a box so I could teach the class without the distraction, but the critter chewed its way out. The worst part was, after we caught it and put it in a hamster-proof container, he asked me not to tell his parents about what he’d done so he wouldn’t get in trouble.”
“What did you do?”
“I know his parents fairly well, and it was something they should have known, but I couldn’t tell because there’s a trust involved in being his Sunday school teacher. I have to be an example to him, which means not betraying a confidence.”
“That’s a tough one.”
“But I got him back.” Gwen laughed, in spite of herself. “I made him write a note of thanks to everyone who helped catch his hamster. Then the parents of the children who received the notes phoned his mother to say how nice Jeremy was for doing that.” She laughed again. “But I didn’t say a word to anyone about the escapist hamster. He still doesn’t know how his parents found out.”
He pretended to shudder. “Remind me never to hold you to a promise.” Gwen knew he was smiling, but even knowing that, she turned to acknowledge his unstated approval.
“So tell me, what else has he done to you that he scares you so much?”
She opened her mouth to continue when another little gopher ran onto the road ahead of them. But instead of running all the way across, he stopped in the middle of the highway, directly on the center line. He sat up on his cute little behind and looked straight at the truck bearing down on him.
At the speed at which the truck was moving, she knew the turbulence as she passed would knock him off his little bottom and send him rolling on the pavement, which would probably hurt him. Gwen turned the wheel slightly and aimed the truck to hug the shoulder line so she could pass him as far away as possible. Suddenly, the gopher decided to run. Instead of going back the way it had come, it ran to her side, directly in front of the truck.
“No!” she called out. “Not that way, little fella!”
Gwen felt a bump.
Lionel muttered something nasty under his breath.
Gwen’s stomach rolled. She tightened her grip on the wheel, and her eyes started to burn.
“I hate when that happens,” Lionel mumbled. “You’d think they would …” His voice trailed off.
She knew he was looking at her. She refused to turn her head. The burn in her eyes worsened, and her hands started to feel shaky.
“Gwen?”
She swallowed hard. “I used to feed them at the zoo when I was a kid.” Her chin quivered. She clenched her teeth but she couldn’t stop it.
He mumbled something else she couldn’t hear. “Pull over,” he said, more loudly.
She quickly swiped at her nose with the back of her hand, then grabbed the wheel again, holding it much tighter than she needed to. She choked the words out, trying to keep her voice steady. “We can’t stop here.”
“Yes, we can. That’s what the shoulder is for. Pull over.”
She needed to be tough. She wanted to show him she could act like a professional. People ran over gophers all the time on the flatlands. She had to show him she could be strong, even though she’d just murdered one of God’s innocent woodland creatures with twenty tons of mobile machinery. The poor little thing hadn’t had a chance.
Gwen’s vision blurred, and she couldn’t blink it away. One tear trickled down her cheek.
Gwen pulled over.
The second they were at a stop, before Lionel had a chance to undo his seatbelt, she dashed straight for the bunk. “I’m really sleepy. I don’t think I need to wind down. Good night.”
And she whipped the curtain shut.
Chapter 6
Lionel stared at the closed curtain, his mouth wide open, the words he was going to say forgotton. His hand still rested on the seatbelt clip. He hadn’t had enough time to press the button and release it.
She’d moved faster than the truck ever had, and the closed status of the curtain was as effective as a fortress wall.
He’d run over many gophers in his career as a driver, and he still found it upsetting. Most of the other drivers joked about it, trying to out-macho each other, but he knew he wasn’t the only one who felt bad when it happened. He wanted to tell her that, but she’d run off before he could say a word. Now she was sequestered behind the curtain, which he’d promised never to touch.
Not that he knew what to do with a crying woman, but he wanted to do something. One thing he did know. He didn’t want to sit and stare at the curtain while she cried. He couldn’t hear her, but he knew what she was doing. He’d never felt so helpless in his life.
Lionel slid into the driver’s seat and turned the radio on. As soon as he reached the speed limit, he flipped on the cruise control.
He had nothing to do but drive and listen to the music.
Things had gone so well until this point, although nothing had gone like he expected. He could understand that she was upset about running over the gopher, but it bothered him that she’d shut him out and not allowed him the opportunity to help her deal with it.
He’d counted on, and even looked forward to, the next few hours, wanting to enjoy the morning, talking to her as he drove, before she crawled into the bunk for a sleep. Instead, he was alone in the driver’s seat again, and she was in the back crying.
As the miles rolled by, he tried to think of something he could say when she got up. Besides the standard rhetoric that it happened to every driver at some point, the best he could come up with was to tell her there was nothing anyone could do to avoid them. She probably wouldn’t derive much comfort from being told that in the eyes of the company or an owner operator who had his life’s savings tied up in his truck, risking an accident wasn’t worth a little gopher. Nor did he think she’d get much consolation if he told her to be grateful it wasn’t something bigger, like a moose, that she’d hit.
He remembered a few years back when one of his friends hit a moose outside of Thunder Bay. Thankfully the driver hadn’t been badly hurt, but the truck had sustained heavy damage and the trailer had gone over into the ditch on im-pact. The weight of the load had busted out the roof of the trailer. It had taken an entire crew three days of picking through the muddy, stagnant water to recover everything. Then it took a year and a half for the head office to settle all the damage and loss claims. Very few people realized that much of the cost of an accident wasn’t covered by insurance, which made the company not look favorably on accidents caused by wildlife.
By noon she still hadn’t appeared. Lionel tried to convince himself that it wasn’t a major deal because she’d been in the bunk only four hours and she was due for a sleep anyway. When his stomach grumbled, he stopped at a truck stop, pulling into an area of the parking lot he thought would be the quietest. Leaving the motor running so the roar of it wouldn’t disturb her when he started it again, he dashed into the building, bought a sandwich and a coffee, and ran back. Since the curtain remained closed, he ate his lunch alone as he drove.
By mid-afternoon Lionel thought he must have checked his watch a couple of hundred times. He was beginning to wonder if she would ever come out, when the rasp of the Velcro sounded.
He purposely kept his focus straight ahead. “Good morning, Stranger. Sleep well?” he asked, then kicked himself. By being too cheerful he didn’t want her to think that he knew she’d been doing anything other than sleeping.
“Yes, thank you.” She slid into the passenger seat.
No words passed between them as he drove. He pulled into the first rest area and hopped out of the truck to catch a breath of fresh air when she went into the amenities b
uilding.
He waited as she tossed her purse up into the truck. “Want to go for a walk before we get moving again?”
She nodded but didn’t comment so he started walking, expecting her to follow, which she did.
This time the silence bothered him. He had so many things to say but didn’t know how to start. The things he felt he should say jumbled with what he wanted to say but couldn’t, until he couldn’t tell one from the other. Lionel decided to keep quiet.
“Uncle Chad told me it would probably take awhile to get used to sleeping in a moving truck. He said some drivers never sleep well, that he and Jeff sleep and drive in five-hour shifts. But I haven’t had any trouble sleeping.”
“Me neither.”
“I’m really sorry, it’s after three o’clock, and I didn’t let you get into the fridge. You must be starving.”
Lionel grinned. “I stopped and grabbed a quick sandwich at a truck stop. I couldn’t believe it when you slept through. After all, there was food involved.”
She shot him a dirty look, but he kept his gaze fixed forward and bit his bottom lip to stop himself from smiling. She continued when he pretended not to notice her scathing glare. “That’s not all that surprising. I was really tired because I didn’t get enough sleep the day before. Or the night before. Or whatever you call it when you sleep these strange hours.”
He shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never really thought about it. It’s something you just get used to.”
“Or not.”
“I suppose. Are you hungry? If you want to make a quick snack, that’s fine, but I really have to do some laundry, so we have to allow for a long stop at the next truck stop. That will have to be our real supper break, while we’re waiting for the washing machine and stuff.”
“I just woke up. I don’t want supper.”
He laughed, letting himself relax, grateful that everything appeared to be all right, after all. “Right. You’re the one who had a hamburger and fries for breakfast.”
“That wasn’t breakfast. That was supper at six in the morning. Now it’s time for breakfast at,” she checked her wristwatch, “three forty-seven in the afternoon.”
