She didn’t feel like that inside. Inside she felt quivery and sort of small and uncertain, although she was very careful to hide these emotions from her children.
Well, she’d gone too far to back out now, she thought, digging into her tote bag for a tissue for Anna.
“Order anything you want, kids,” she told them when Paloma, who was working the early shift, came over. “We have over half an hour.”
“It’s too early to eat,” Jon said.
“Try.”
“Three days until Christmas,” Anna piped up out of the blue, giving a bright smile and telling Paloma she wanted Cheerios.
For the next twenty-five minutes, Lacey’s heartbeat gradually picked up tempo and her insides began to quiver more than ever before as her mind raced from worry about traveling with Cooper to worry about over her father’s possible angry reaction. When Jon, who’d been craning his neck to peer out the window, said, “Did you say Cooper’s truck was red?” she almost jumped out of her seat.
“Maroon,” she answered.
And there it was, a big, shiny, top-of-the-line Kenworth truck pulling a silver trailer, rolling to a stop several yards away. It gleamed in the fluorescent lighting.
A distinctly sinking feeling claimed her when her gaze fell to the Christmas lights draped across the Kenworth’s grill. In merry greens, reds and yellows, the lights crudely spelled out: Bah Humbug.
She stared at them for approximately thirty seconds. Yes, that’s what they said.
She grasped at the idea that maybe it wasn’t Cooper. Plenty of drivers drove such trucks. Maybe it was someone else.
Then a figure dressed in a thick vest, shoulders hunched against the cold, with a black Stetson on his head, strode around the front of the truck toward the restaurant.
It was Cooper.
Lacey looked at her children. Jon’s eyebrows went up in silent question.
“It’s Cooper,” she said.
“What do those lights say, Mama?” Anna asked.
When Lacey hesitated, Jon filled in. “Bah Humbug—like old Scrooge.” Then he muttered, “I get this funny feeling…” He stopped at Lacey’s sharp look.
“Here, Anna, let’s get your coat on,” Lacey said, casting both children a bright smile. “It’s time to go.”
Without looking, she mentally pictured Cooper striding into the restaurant. She knew exactly when he entered. She felt a cold breeze—and his gaze. She looked up and across the room.
Cooper was frowning—in fact, his expression was thunderous—as he approached. In the process of buttoning Anna’s coat, Lacey’s fingers stilled. She could do no more than stare at him and wonder what she’d done, because it was obvious he was furious with her.
Cooper knew it had been Pate, but Pate wasn’t here, and Lacey was. And she should have said something about the kids yesterday.
“Good morning,” she said to him now.
He looked at her and then he turned his gaze to the two pint-sized kids. Then he looked back at her again.
She was saying, “I’d like you to meet my children, Cooper,” her voice polite and soft, just as if nothing was wrong. “This is Jon…” she touched the boy’s shoulder, “…and this is Anna.”
“Pate didn’t say anything about kids,” Cooper managed to get out and in a low voice. He wanted out of this, and he intended to get out. He wasn’t spending three days in the cab of his truck with two wet-nosed kids.
“You didn’t…” Her green eyes searched his. “Pate didn’t tell you I had two children—that he was taking all of us to Pine Grove?”
“No, Ma’am, he did not. He neglected that fact. And so did you yesterday.” So now she would apologize, and the trip would be off.
“Well, I’m sorry…”
She looked confused and apologetic. And her eyes were extremely dark against the paleness of her face. A shaft of disappointment touched Cooper. Why did she have to go and have kids? He’d almost been thinking it would be nice to drive east with her, that having her along might make the stretch ahead seem shorter.
A stupid thought that had been.
Just then she said, “I had no idea. I simply assumed you knew. Pate’s note said it was all arranged, and last night when I spoke to him, he didn’t say there could be any problem.”
She seemed to have grown taller or something. She was looking him right in the eye.
“No, I guess he didn’t,” Cooper allowed, his gaze dropping again to the children in front of him.
One was a little girl, short straight brown hair and wide brown eyes and a heart-shaped face. She clung to her mother’s leg and regarded Cooper as she would a horned devil. The boy was about ten, maybe eleven, with tousled light brown hair and eyes and a body stance that indicated he knew all there was to know in this world.
“Well,” Lacey said, “As I said before, these are my children, Jon and Anna.” She rested her hand atop the little girl’s head and smiled at Cooper. “Kids, this is Mr.—this is Cooper, who’s generously agreed to take Pate’s place and drive us to Pine Grove. Isn’t that nice of him?”
Cooper stared at her. He swallowed as he stared into her clear eyes that held nothing but expectation.
How had she done it? One minute she had looked hesitant, vague and on the verge of running, and the next she was acting as if everything was going perfectly smoothly, like a blacktop highway snaking off into the prairie.
What could he say?
“Come on. We got three days to get there, and I’d as sooner make it in two.”
He pivoted and strode toward the restaurant doors, followed by the sound of Jingle Bells that some jerk had punched into the jukebox, regardless of it being five in the morning.
Bah, Humbug!
Three days in the cab of his rig with a woman and two wet-nosed kids, wasn’t that just fine and dandy.
A beautiful woman and two wet-nosed kids, he thought as he paused at the truck’s passenger door and turned to watch the gal and kids approach. He tried to wiggle from the thought, but it stuck fast as he watched the gal approach. She carried a bulging bag in each hand and another hung from her shoulder, but walked straight and with firm steps. The cold breeze blew her hair back from her face; small gold hoop earrings caught the fluorescent lights.
“Five bags aren’t gonna fit,” he told her when she came abreast of him.
“This is a tote bag,” she said, indicating the large one hanging from her shoulder. “And Pate said we could bring four suitcases.”
Cooper was rewarded by the slight quaver in her voice and the uncertainty that glimmered momentarily in her eyes.
“I ain’t Pate.”
“You want me to leave one behind? Where should I leave it?”
“Here’s fine with me.” He felt foolish at his words, and more angry because of the feeling.
She stared at him. “I need all four bags—and everything in this tote. There are three of us.”
“Rearrange things. There isn’t room.”
A movement drew his gaze, and Cooper glanced down to see the little girl gaping at him. Her face began to squinch up, and her lips to tremble. Regret seemed to slip up and get him from behind.
“Okay, fine!” the gal yelled at him and plunked down the two bulging bags. Then next instant she had knelt down, unzipped one of them and went to jerking clothes from it. A blue sweatshirt went flying to the pavement. “I can do without this…or this…”
A flutter of white followed the sweatshirt, then several frilly pink things that resembled a nightgown and underwear, giving Cooper an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach. Suddenly he was aware of the cold and of several curious faces peering through the restaurant windows.
He knelt and quickly grabbed the scattered clothes, catching a pair of panties that came sailing his way.
“All right!” He thrust the clothes at her. “Put these back in there, and let’s get goin’. At this rate it’s gonna be six before we get out of here.”
Adjusting his hat
low on his brow, he strode around the front of the truck, leaving the gal and her kids to get inside as best they could.
Heading East
Watching Cooper disappear around the front of the big truck, Lacey contemplated words too ugly to speak. She was embarrassed by her actions, furious with his, and she didn’t know what to do about the entire situation.
“I don’t like him, Mama,” Anna said, slipping an arm around Lacey’s leg.
“You sure you still want to do this, Mom?” Jon asked.
Lacey looked at him. “Oh, yes,” she responded.
Turning from her son’s gaze, she grabbed hold of a handle and hoisted herself up into the vibrating truck. Jon handed up each bag, which she piled on and between the seats. Then she helped the children up and peered into the rear of the truck cab with widening eyes.
In all her years of working at the truck stop, watching the rigs come and go, Lacey had never been inside one. She’d heard of the renowned Kenworth truck, but her imagination hadn’t done it justice.
Though the big engine ran, it sent only a gentle, even pleasant rumble into the truck cab itself. It was cozy, warm. The two high-backed seats were upholstered in thick grey velour and resembled living-room recliners, complete with armrests. Tufted grey vinyl lined the door panels and roof and thick gunmetal-grey carpeting covered the floor.
In the center, behind the chairs, was the opening to the sleeping compartment.
“Man-o-man,” said Jon, who could stand in the compartment and move about easily.
Lacey, bending slightly, paused to stare at the padded vinyl lining the walls and ceiling, and the bed that seemed queen sized at least, and the luxurious blue bedspread.
“There’s a TV!” Jon exclaimed, drawing Lacey’s gaze to the small portable on the shelf. Color, no less. There were also speakers in the wall, indicating a stereo system somewhere.
Lacey opened what she thought to be a cabinet and found a refrigerator instead. Straightening, she came face-to-face with a microwave oven. In a narrow closet hung several pairs of jeans and numerous shirts, a pair of shiny boots sitting beneath them.
“Where’s the shower?” she quipped to Cooper, who had just entered the rig.
His answer was a low grunt. He sat in his seat behind the wheel, apparently engrossed in checking the numerous gauges on the dash, recording in some sort of log, and generally acting as if he were alone in the rig, as no doubt he wished to be.
Lacey squeezed three of their bags into a large, only partially filled cabinet beneath the bed. She was standing in the narrow compartment opening, debating about what to do with the fourth bag, when Cooper rose up beside her.
“Haven’t gotten the shower installed yet,” he said.
She couldn’t tell if he were joking or not.
“All set?” he asked.
With a suddenness, she became aware of the scent of his sweet-musky after-shave. She didn’t want to notice it. And then he turned to look at her, his face, lit by the golden glow of the interior lights, only inches away.
“I don’t know where to put this bag,” Lacey had to admit.
His eyes were deep and dark, his eyelashes long, his mustache slightly bristly, and his hair quite wavy, all of which in one instant she noticed and thought she should not.
His arm came around in front of her, causing her to pull back and suck in, as he tossed his hat onto a hook above the television. Then, without a word, Cooper squeezed past her, his thighs rubbing hers, his belt buckle pressing her arm. Lacey felt flustered. She was suddenly aware of being a woman, which brought with it the disturbing awareness that Cooper was very much a man.
She watched him bend at the knee in order to fit into the compartment and open a cabinet above the end of the bed. He pulled out two blankets, tossed them beside Anna and Jon on the bed, grabbed the bag from Lacey and stuffed it in the cabinet, shutting it with a hard snap.
He looked at her, and she looked at him.
Realizing she was in his way, she searched for somewhere to go. The only place was the passenger seat. She sat down.
Cooper slipped into the driver’s chair, flipped switches and turned on the headlights.
Anna came quietly to wiggle onto Lacey’s lap. Lacey held her close, rubbing her cheek on Anna’s hair. She worried if she had made a huge mistake in choosing to continue with her trip. It had been pride, of course, that had taken hold in the parking lot. But now she wondered whether it could possibly harm her children to take this trip with a man who so obviously didn’t want them around.
One worry in, all the others multiplied. What if she could not handle her temper with this most disagreeable man. What if, at the trip’s end, her father rejected them, too?
“Can I watch the television, Mr. Cooper?” Jon called from the back.
Lacey had to smile. Obviously her son was not bothered by Cooper’s rudeness. But then, Jon could generally return as good as he got. The Lord had blessed him with resilience.
“Yeah,” Cooper said. Then, his hand on the gearshift, he looked at Lacey and said, “She can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”
Anna gripped Lacey and wasn’t about to let go.
“I’ll get in the back with her.”
Cooper nodded and turned his attention to getting underway. As Lacey cleared the pass-through, Cooper jerked the curtain across the opening, enclosing her and the children in the cozy confines of the sleeper—and himself up front, alone.
The truck gave a gentle jolt of forward motion and they were off. Lacey gratefully stretched out beside Anna beneath the blankets. She was exhausted and quite chilled.
Jon figured out how to work the television in the manner of modern children who can automatically work any electronic equipment, and Lacy, drowsy, marveled. Then Jon propped himself against her feet, avidly watching a cartoon show, the television providing the only light in the compartment. Lacey listened to the rumble of the engine and felt the rhythmic motion of the vehicle. It was a comfort to have both children physically touching her.
“It’s like being rocked,” Anna whispered, her eyes filled with wonder.
“Mmm…” Lacey hugged her daughter closer, feeling suddenly a raw spot in her heart. She mused over the idea of spending the entire trip in the sleeping compartment. Surely that would make Mr. Delightful happy. How in the world could Pate think Cooper needed company?
* * * *
Cooper shifted gears, feeling the big Kenworth easily gain speed. The headlights illuminated the highway ahead. There was a surprising amount of traffic for so early in the morning. People trying to get home for the holidays, he thought, half bitterly, half wistfully.
The road passed beneath the rig at seventy miles an hour. He glanced at the speedometer and increased speed, then eased up, letting the speed drop back again. Three days stretched ahead of him before he dropped his load—Pate’s load—up in D.C.. He could have made it in much less than three, if he drove as he usually did. But with the woman and two kids, he probably wouldn’t.
He glanced in the mirror, looking at the curtains of the sleeper. He wondered what the gal was doing back there. In his bed.
He wondered what had happened to her husband. Pate had just said that she was on her own, something Cooper had surmised after many meals at Gerald’s, but now he wondered if he had simply jumped to a conclusion. And he had been more preoccupied with how to get around Pate’s request than asking a lot of questions about the woman.
Chances were she was divorced. Most were. She might be a widow. Funny how he never really had heard much about her after all the times at Gerald’s. He wasn’t so much of a talker, though, and did not listen much to gossip.
Maybe her husband was in prison. He had met a couple of waitresses whose husbands were in prison. Maybe her husband had run off, which happened a lot. Or maybe she ran around. She didn’t seem at all the type, but in his experience, very often people weren’t at all what they seemed. Especially women.
His spirit seemed to slide downward
quite suddenly. Was she going to spend the entire trip back there in the sleeper? Now that she was here, the least she could do was get up front and fill his coffee cup from his thermos.
In a quick motion, he reached over and turned up the volume on the radio. A good Randy Travis country tune floated out, and he gave thanks that it did not have a hint of Christmas in it.
The sky began to glow with morning. Cooper shifted in his seat and took note of the steering wheel in his hands and the smooth rumble of the truck pushing through the wind and rolling over the road. The experience never failed to give him a boost.
A fool in a red Corvette pulled dangerously close in front of him, and he let up on the accelerator. The fact of his passengers suddenly seemed to sit on his shoulders. He thought that many companies had the right idea by ruling out passengers altogether. He should have made that rule for himself. He would from now on. Next time someone requested he take passengers, he would say, “No, my company doesn’t allow it.”
The little girl’s expression that morning came across his mind. Was he really so much of a monster? He leaned over and checked his image in the mirror.
He supposed he did look pretty rough. He rubbed a hand over his hair, which was beginning to grey and could use cutting. He was thirty-eight years old, a bachelor for most of those years, no kids, and he didn’t much like them, either. Children reminded him of Martians, a little species with customs and language all their own.
He jerked his mind from the dreary thoughts and began to hum along with the radio. The cab didn’t seem so empty then. But he didn’t want to be heard, so he kept the humming faint.
* * * *
Minutes later, the dividing curtain was pushed open. The humming died in his throat as he met the gal’s gaze in the rear-view mirror.
He averted his gaze to the side mirror, but not before he saw her smile. She had a rare kind of smile. It lit up her entire face.
He wanted to smile in return, only he didn’t. That would be stupid. He didn’t want her to get the idea she was welcome or anything.
But, he thought, catching sight of her as she slipped into the passenger seat, he had to admit to himself that he didn’t mind looking at her. Not at all.
Miracle on I-40 Page 4
