She must have dozed off because she was startled at the sound of Big Red's voice speaking to her.

"Hi, Red," she answered, opening her eyes.

"You should be in bed, Libby," he smiled, his strong white teeth shining in the darkness.

"It's too hot to sleep," she replied, stretching her arms into the air.

Looking up at the massive man standing before her, she wondered again why everyone called him Big Red. He had shoulder-length black hair and always wore a band around his head. His piercing blue eyes glowed out from a tanned, rugged face with a deep scar slashing across his left cheek. Some people said he was called Big Red because he was part Cherokee, others said he got the name because of the bright-red color of his rig, but regardless of where he got his name, every drive said he was the best damned trucker on the road.

"You leavin' now?" asked the girl, looking up at his massive arms folded across his chest. His arms were bigger than most men's thighs.

"Yep," he smiled down. "I have to get this load into Marysville before sun-up."

"I'll suck you off for two bucks," giggled Libby. It was a little joke they had between them for a long time.

"Sorry," he smiled, glancing suggestively toward the trailer. "Whenever you make that offer, I'm not quite up to it."

"Someday," she laughed, "I'll get to you before Mom does."

"We'll talk about that when you grow up," was his reply as he started walking toward his rig.

Libby walked beside him. "You gonna stop by again next Thursday?"

"If God be willing," was his reply as he gently patted her soft ass and swung up into the cab.

"'Bye, Red," she called as the powerful motor roared into life, shattering the stillness of the night.

"See you, Libby," he called, jamming the big rig into gear and slowly moving out. The girl continued waving until the big truck was rumbling down the road. She kept listening to him shifting gears as the rig disappeared over the hill.