John nodded. “I’ll show you the weather report once we are inside.” He motioned to the lowest step. “Step here and hold here. Put your other foot there.” He pointed to the next step. “And grab here.”
She stuffed the keys in her coat pocket and grabbed the first handle and hoisted herself up the first step like a trooper. But, the toe of her boot caught on the next step, and she swayed out like a drunk.
To stop this seat-cover from falling, John had no choice but to place both hands under her butt and shove her inside, sending her belly first onto the tan leather seat with a screech. Bolting upright on the seat, she glared down on him, hand diving into the coat pocket.
Yep that was the image that spawned 18 Wheeler. I saw John catching Carrie by the butt to keep her from falling from the cab of his truck. Why was she climbing into his truck? That came next. Because John was a ‘prince of the road’ who had noticed her car following along with him. And now it was broken on the side of the road and out of concern, he had to know why. Especially since he had just learned of a serious snow storm about to take the Salt Flats of Utah.
What’s interesting about that was I had Carrie’s car break down on I-80. But my hubby’s nephew, a cross country trucker named Spike, corrected that. He said her car should break down on the Salt Flats. And then he unveiled the world of trucking and even took me for a ride in his cab. Having to hit the road, Spike then left me in charge of his wife, Barb, who was a daughter of a trucker, grew up in the trucking world, and then married into this world. “She knows more than I do,” Spike stated.
And their story took off from there. I loved writing this mature romance between a widow and a widower, not realizing that soon I would be a widow. But it was still fun learning to ‘talk trucker’…sort of.