Employers quickly realized importing rice to feed their Chinese laborers was too expensive, so they began growing it themselves. This area, the lowland Sacramento delta, turned out to have the perfect soil type and climate for growing that crop.
“So, now, long after the gold has played out, rice growers are still reaping profits from an enterprise that began because of the Gold Rush,” Hugh said.
“You sure know a lot of stuff,” Jenny said.
Hugh couldn’t decide if she was being sarcastic. “When you’ve sat behind a wheel like I have for a couple of million miles, you pick up tidbits of information about the areas you pass through.”
Jenny unbelted herself and went back to the sleeper.
“What are you doing, honey?”
“You’ll see.”
When she got back into her seat she was holding a thick folder of papers.
“I’m studying for my learner’s permit,” she said.
“Really? How are you doing that?”
“I found this website that has a fantastic training program. It takes people through the whole process to prepare them to take the test for their CLP. They have an incredible pass rate record.”
“Wow! That’s great,” Hugh said. He was impressed with Jenny’s initiative.
“So you must be serious about getting your CDL.”
“You bet I am. By the way, I’ll need your laptop when we get parked at the terminal. I made printouts of what I’m studying right now, but I’ll need to log in to take the section quiz and monitor my progress.”
“No problem, sweetie. I think that’s fantastic.”
Hugh was quiet as he covered the miles heading south, giving Jenny a couple of hours to study.
They made it through Sacramento, then Stockton and pulled into WestAm’s company terminal in Lathrop in time for lunch.
“You know what?” Jenny said when they had eaten sandwiches, and made coffees.
“No. What, sweetie?” Hugh replied.
“I’m thinking I could stand to take a shower. I left the ranch so quickly the other day I didn’t get a chance to take one. You say they have good ones here?”
“Yup. In private rooms like the travel centers. You’re in luck, too, because mid-day like this at least one should be available. The only thing is you have to bring your own towel, soap, shampoo and such.”
“If you can get me in, I’d like to go ahead and do that before we go to the chocolate outlet.”
“Oh, yeah. I’d forgotten about that. I’ll come with you and take one too,”
Jenny gave him a funny look.
“After you come out, of course.” Hugh kept to himself the thought that, pretty soon, someday …
Hugh swiped his company card to open the door to the main lounge. Jenny followed him in. The usual gaggle of truckers were sitting around the half-dozen large, round tables. Guys on their ten, and possibly some taking their thirty-four-hour reset.
They weren’t the least bit shy about showing their appreciation for the pretty blonde following Hugh through the main lounge toward the back hallway, down which were the restrooms and showers.
Wait until you see her after she comes out, Hugh thought.
He swiped his card again to open a shower room door for Jenny, then went in first to check out the room. Everything looked good. WestAm took good care of its truckers, and hired somebody to clean each shower room several times a day.
When Hugh went back into the lounge he recognized a couple of drivers who he knew casually. Hugh was always amazed at how often drivers would cross paths. Any of the same guys he sees in the lounge here might turn up two weeks from now halfway across the country at the same truck stop as Hugh, or be standing in front of him at a shipping office.
“Hey, Hugh,” one of them said, “who’s your old lady, and why aren’t you in there with her?”
“She’s my fiancé,” Hugh said, and left it at that.
“I heard about your accident,” another trucker said. “Bad break. Is Safety all over you?”
“Nah, my dash cam completely exonerated me. It was a typical swoop and squat. Two cars swerved into my following gap. Only, they cut it too close and one of them caught the bad end of the deal.”
He didn’t go into details about it being a staged crash for an insurance scam.
Hugh continued to chat with the guys, trading “war stories” about road conditions, about the weather, about shippers and receivers.
Jenny came out, looking all shy and adorable, and nervous before she spotted Hugh. He went to her and walked her to the door, then gave her his truck key so she could let herself in, and not have to sit around the lounge waiting for Hugh to take his shower.
They had a whole afternoon and evening to kill while parked at the WestAm terminal in Lathrop, so Jenny was taking an after-chocolate-feast nap in the sleeper.
Hugh was on his laptop, working on a project that had been kicking around in the back of his mind for a while. Aspects from several different angles needed to be checked out before everything could fall into place.
It required a significant amount of research, and Hugh’s time to work on it would be limited to periods when Jenny wouldn’t be looking over his shoulder.
Hugh also emailed his mom to ask her how the favor he had asked her was working out.
Fishburn was beginning to get worried … and angry. He’d invested a lot of money in getting the reporter placed with the trucker. But two phone calls he’d received a short time ago were giving him cause for concern.
The first phone call was from Joe.
“Yeah, Joe.
