Back To The Yard
1088 Words
Back to the yard
The sun was setting by the time they rolled back into the yard.
The smell of diesel and dust was oddly comforting as she backed the trailer into its bay and set the brake.
Mark hopped down first, stretching his arms over his head. “Home sweet home,” he said.
Jasmine followed, feeling an unfamiliar lightness in her chest.
Frank met them at the office door. “Heard you made it after all,” he said.
“Delivery signed and sealed,” Jasmine confirmed.
Frank grinned. “Knew I could count on you.”
She shot Mark a look. He winked at her.
But the moment of camaraderie was broken when another driver — a burly man named Derek — stepped into their path.
“Well, well,” Derek drawled, looking Jasmine up and down. “The princess makes it back in one piece.”
Jasmine stiffened.
“Gotta say, I didn’t think you had it in you,” Derek continued. “Guess Mark here did all the heavy lifting, huh?”
Mark stepped forward before she could speak.
“Careful,” he said quietly.
Derek sneered. “What, you her bodyguard now?”
Mark didn’t raise his voice. Didn’t even look angry. But there was something in his tone that made Derek pause.
“She’s a better driver than you’ll ever be,” Mark said. “So unless you’ve got something useful to say, shut your mouth.”
Derek glared at him for a long moment — then snorted and walked away.
Jasmine stared at Mark, stunned.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she said finally.
“Yeah, I did,” he replied simply.
She realized she was smiling again.
New Roads
The next week, Jasmine stood in Frank’s office doorway, arms crossed.
“You asked for me?” she said.
Frank looked up from his papers. “Yeah. Got a load needs two drivers. Long haul, through the Rockies. Weather’s turning bad already. Pays good, but… rough trip.”
She lifted an eyebrow. “And?”
He leaned back in his chair. “You interested?”
She didn’t answer right away. She knew he’d expect her to say no — she’d made it clear she preferred solo runs.
But instead, she surprised them both.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
Frank blinked. “Yeah?”
“One condition,” she added. “I pick who I drive with.”
His eyebrows went up.
“Fine. Who you want?”
She smiled faintly.
“Mark.”
Two days later, they rolled out of the yard before dawn.
Mark settled into the passenger seat as she maneuvered the big Kenworth onto the interstate.
“You sure you can put up with me for a whole week?” he teased.
She shot him a look — but it was more playful than sharp.
“I can handle it,” she said.
He grinned and leaned back, folding his arms behind his head.
By the second day, they were climbing into Colorado. Snow flurries danced across the windshield, and the mountains loomed white and forbidding ahead of them.
Jasmine downshifted carefully, keeping her speed steady on the winding two-lane road.
“Gonna get worse tonight,” Mark said, checking the weather app on his phone. “Blizzard warning up in the pass.”
She nodded. “We’ll make it through.”
But as night fell and they climbed higher, the snow thickened. The road disappeared under a blanket of white, and the truck’s tires started to slip even at low speed.
Mark leaned forward, watching the road. “Want me to take it for a while?”
Jasmine gritted her teeth. Her first instinct was to say no — she hated giving up the wheel.
But then she glanced at him, saw the steady confidence in his face, and something inside her shifted.
She exhaled slowly.
“Yeah,” she said. “Your turn.”
He took over at the next turnout, his hands firm but gentle on the wheel.
And Jasmine, for the first time in years, allowed herself to sit back and trust someone else to get them through.
The storm raged outside. The wind howled against the cab. But the truck kept moving.
When they finally rolled into the mountain town on the other side of the pass, it was nearly midnight.
Jasmine looked over at him as they parked at the tiny truck stop.
“You handled that well,” she said quietly.
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Team effort,” he replied.
She surprised herself by smiling back.
Her Lane
The delivery went off without a hitch the next morning.
By the time they headed back toward home, the skies were clear and the sun glinted off the snow-covered peaks.
Jasmine felt… lighter somehow.
They drove in companionable silence most of the way.
Somewhere near the Utah line, Mark finally spoke.
“You know,” he said, “when I started here, I figured you’d never let anyone in. Not even a little.”
She glanced at him.
“You figured wrong,” she said.
“Yeah,” he agreed with a grin. “I did.”
When they rolled into the yard late that night, Frank was waiting for them.
“On time and under budget,” he said, looking over his clipboard. “Nicely done.”
Jasmine handed over the paperwork. “No problem.”
Frank gave her a rare smile. “Got more two-driver runs if you’re interested.”
She looked over at Mark.
Then back at Frank.
“Yeah,” she said. “I might be.”
Mark walked her out to her car, hands in his pockets.
“You sure you’re not sick of me yet?” he asked as she unlocked her door.
She shook her head. “Not yet.”
He chuckled.
Then, as she slid into her seat, he leaned down just enough for their eyes to meet.
“You ever figure out,” he said softly, “that letting someone have your back doesn’t mean you’re weak?”
She stared at him for a moment. Then nodded once.
“I’m starting to,” she said.
He straightened, smiling.
“Good,” he said. “See you on the next run, Jasmine.”
As she drove away, she caught herself smiling in the rearview mirror.
Maybe she didn’t have to do it all alone anymore.
But she’d still do it her way.
Her lane.
Always her lane.
- Writer
