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and she’d tucked nearly nine hundred dollars deep inside it. She had to be careful. Either Mel or one of his sticky-fingered kids might make off with the cash she was saving for a car. Until she could pay for the Toyota outright, as well as license and insure it for six months, she was forbidden to own one.
    All around, it sucked.
    Her whole damn life sucked,
    As rain began to pelt, striking her cheeks, splashing in puddles, peppering the gravel crunching beneath her feet, she began to wish she’d waited for Gloria. Putting up with a little cigarette smoke was better than slogging through cold rain.
    She couldn’t wait to get out of this hole-in-the-wall of a town where her mother, chasing the ever-slippery Mel, had dragged her. Kicking at the pebbles on the shoulder, she envied the people driving the cars that streaked by on the interstate, their headlights cutting through the dark night, their tires humming against the wet pavement, their lives going full throttle while she was stuck in idle.
    But once she had her car, look out! She’d turn eighteen and leave Sharon and hairy Mel and head to Denver, where her dad and the boyfriend she’d met on the Internet were waiting.
    Three hundred more dollars and five months.
    That was all.
    A gust of wind blasted her again, and she shuddered. Maybe she should turn back and take Gloria up on that ride. She glanced over her shoulder, but the neon lights of the diner were out of sight. She was nearly halfway home.
    She started to jog.
    A lone car had turned onto the road and was catching up to her, its headlights glowing bright. She stepped farther off the shoulder, her Nikes slipping a little. The roar of a large engine was audible over the rain, and she realized it wasn’t a car, but a truck behind her. No big deal. There were hundreds of them around Stewart’s Crossing. She expected the pickup to fly by her with a spray of road wash, but as it passed her, it slowed.
    Just go on, she thought. She slowed to a walk, but kept moving until she saw the brake lights glow bright.
    Now what?
    She kept walking, intent on going around the dark truck, keeping her pace steady, hoping it was only a coincidence that the guy had stopped. No such luck. The window on the passenger side slid down.
    â€œRosie?” a voice that was vaguely familiar called from the darkened cab. “That you?”
    Keep walking,
    She didn’t look up.
    â€œHey, it’s me.” The cab’s interior light blinked on, and she recognized the driver, a tall man who was a regular at the diner and who now leaned across the seat to talk to her. “You need a ride?”
    â€œNo, it’s only a little farther.”
    â€œYou’re soaked to the skin,” he said, concerned.
    â€œIt’s okay.”
    â€œOh, come on. Hop in, I’ll drive you.” Without waiting for an answer, he opened the door.
    â€œI don’t—”
    â€œYour call, but I’m drivin’ right by your house.”
    â€œYou know where I live?” That was weird.
    â€œOnly that you said you’re on Umpqua.”
    Had she mentioned it? Maybe. “I don’t know.” Shaking her head, she felt the cold rain drizzling down her neck. She stared at the open door of the pickup. Clean. Warm. Dry. The strains of some Western song playing softly on the radio.
    â€œYou’ll be home in three minutes.”
    Don’t do it!
    The wind blasted again, and she pushed down her misgivings. She knew the guy, had been waiting on him ever since she took the job. He was one of the better-looking regulars. He always had a compliment and a smile and left a good-sized tip.
    â€œOkay.”
    â€œThat-a-girl.”
    Climbing into the truck, she felt the warm air from the heater against her skin and recognized the Randy Travis song wafting through the speakers. She yanked the door shut, but the lock didn’t quite latch.
    â€œHere, let me get that,” he said, “Damned