Just before midnight. Somewhere on the Texas prairie. A 20-year-old named Mark was driving on a two-lane highway on his way home.
You have to be careful when driving on an empty prairie. It’s easy to develop “prairie foot.” On a flat landscape, without landmarks, your foot tends to get heavy on the gas pedal. It’s not hard to travel upwards of 200 miles per hour by accident.
Mark saw flashing hazards ahead. A brokedown truck with a horse trailer attached. He pumped his brakes and pulled over. And in the rural tradition of all who wear roper boots, he was ready to help.
“Need a hand?”
A young woman slid from beneath the truck chassis. She had grease smudges on her face. She was holding a scissor jack. And she was the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.
Mark felt his breath get trapped in his throat.
She smiled. “Sorry. No speak’a the Inglés too good.”
Her truck had a flat tire. In her passenger seat was a silent elderly woman. The girl had been under the
vehicle looking for the jackpoint on the old Silverado, which can be dangerous business for the uninitiated.
“Allow me,” Mark said, already on the pavement.
It turned out to be a bigger problem than he’d expected. Her spare tire was shot, worn to the canvas. There was no way she was getting home on that thing.
Mark attached the horse trailer to his own truck and told her he’d take them home. But where did she live? Her jumbled English made it impossible to understand her directions.
So the girl drew him a map. And since there was no paper in Mark’s truck to write upon, she used a Sharpie to draw the route on Mark’s hand.
He presented her his hand, which was trembling when she wrote upon it.
It was 2 A.M. when he reached her aunt’s house. He led…