Just as he approached the outer edges of the small town of Lusk, he reached for the phone, thinking he'd call Kyle to tell him thank you for the charger. It was then that the phone rang.
Clayton saw it was Kyle based on the phone number, so clicked the Answer button as fast as he could.
"Hello, Kyle, listen, I wanted to thank you?—"
"You should not be driving in this storm," said Kyle firmly, interrupting Clayton. "I've checked the weather reports in your area, and it's going to get very bad before it gets better. The temperatures are going to drop down to zero and the snow is going to increase."
"I've driven in worse," said Clayton. "I actually drive in this kind of weather all the time, thank you very much."
"And why the hell would you do that?" asked Kyle.
Clayton tightened both hands on the wheel to slow down for the exit. He needed to pee, and it wasn't good to get road weary, especially not in a storm like this one.
"I drive an eighteen wheeler most days," said Clayton. "I took a few days off so I'm in my car, but I know how to handle myself on the road. In all kinds of weather," he added for emphasis.
"That doesn't mean you should be driving in this," said Kyle. "You should get a hotel in the next town. Where are you?"
"I'm pulling into Lusk for a quick break, and then I'm on the road again."
Clayton turned on his blinkers and felt the wheels slide as he went around the curve of the exit. His windshield wipers were going full speed, but as the car slowed, the snowflakes also seemed to slow, doing an exquisite dance in the falling light, sparkling in the tall street lights that led the way to the gas station.
"Have I mentioned that the storm is going to get bad before it gets better?" asked Kyle, sounding wise.
"Yes, you most certainly did, but if I stop here for the night, I'll get stuck here for days," said Clayton, doing his best to be patient. "The snow can get very deep in this part of Wyoming, however, the further south I go, the less bad the storm is likely to be."
"So you're going to keep driving," said Kyle. "That's so mountain man rugged but so very stupid."
"Hey, your precious mountain men could survive throughthe winter doing all kinds of rugged things," said Clayton, laughing a bit.
"Well, sure, but they weren't going seventy miles an hour in a blizzard."
"Fifty," said Clayton. "I'm clocking in at fifty miles an hour at most, which is why this is taking so long. If this had been a sunny day, I'd already be in Colorado, with Orchard only an hour or two away, instead of four."
"Which means you won't be here until late," said Kyle, and it was obvious that he was at the computer, looking at the weather report, for he added, "It'll get very bad at the state line, with the temperatures dropping to zero and the wind chill factor will take it colder than that. A foot of snow is expected, and maybe up to three feet in that area."
"State line is near Cheyenne," said Clayton. He could see the map in his mind's eye, and calculated the distance. "That's only an hour of really bad driving. Check Grover. What is it going to do there?"
"Not so cold there, and a little less snow," said Kyle, reporting back with a minimum of fuss. "Which means it's going to bemorethan one hour of bad driving, from the looks of it. But don't worry, I'll be with you the entire way."
"I don't need babysitting," said Clayton as he pulled into a gas station, half laughing at the thought of this guy he didn't even know thinking he had the responsibility of looking after a seasoned truck driver.
"Yes, you do," said Kyle, and it sounded like he was laughing to himself as well. "You need to be babysat, and I'm going to do it. To make up for my earlier sins."
"Fine, fine," said Clayton, realizing that he did not object very much to the idea of being kept company, even if Kyle tended to over-explain everything. "Listen, I'm at Lusk, at the gas station, so I'm going to put gas in the tank?—"
"To keep the gas line from freezing," said Kyle.
"Right, and because it's not good to drive for hours and hours without a break."
"So very sensible," said Kyle. "But you still need to be babysat."
"Yes, sir," said Clayton with a mental salute. "All right, I'm hanging up now."
He clicked the Hang Up button, turned off the engine, and watched the snowflakes falling outside his window. They drifted down hard and fast, past the edge of the overhead canopy. Along the wall of the building, where the convenience store was, the snow had drifted into long, white triangles.
If this had been any other drive, he'd stop in Lusk for sure, stay the night in a cheap motel, and see what the weather was like in the morning. But he had miles to go and promises to keep, and he meant to keep them.
Besides, in his mind's eye, he could picture Kyle standing in the doorway of his ranch house with a view of the South Platte, looking out through the falling snow, waiting for a man he'd never met to arrive. While what Kyle looked like was an indistinct blur, Clayton could imagine he'd have an expression of worry, at the very least. And that thought added to Clayton's feeling about this whole thing, that he was letting people down left and right, even though he was willing to drive into the worst blizzard the plains had ever known to make it right.
