Ruby had it all. She flew her plane whenever it was rented, or for her own amusement, and she was engaged. She was queen of the air, and of the land. Her fiancé, Hamish, knew so. And he told everyone. They'd be getting married in a Cash's fever, and Jack was to be best man.
But Jack had never told anyone what his goals were. Who would have thought that a tough trucker was a fucking novelist? Didn't he live in his truck with nothing but his dog Lance to support him? And there he was, handing in his love story to a Sidney editor. He knew the business, and all.
Ruby had to come with him to Sidney because he had used her name on the cover. And he wasn't prepared to be out in the open. Of course, Ruby was furious, at first, that she was to be the famous newcomer. But when the publishers promised her to cover all her wedding expenses -?
Then again, Jack had written that novel about a couple, some lady and her Brian, and he was to die. Ruby didn't want Brian to die, and she told Jack, as if he could somehow correct that now. Was his female hero like her? Was it that simple? Clichés actually belong to that sort of literature, Jack had told her. But life?
However, she had to return home as soon as possible before a drunken night's moment in Australia's metropolis was going to have an effect on her future plans. After all, she was to go with Hamish to his long time promised farm land. And Jack, of course, took cover at his publishing lady's, her manners as polished and polite as could be. That was where he belonged, Ruby thought. How was she to know that Jack was selling himself for a price? He came out into the open, after his publishing lady had agreed on keeping it firmly on business. He'd rather return to his truck, and Lance, than choose a love he couldn't live.
But then Lance had accidentally made Ruby crash her plane, and sprain her ankle, and Jack had dared to take a ride in another plane to be with her, even though he was terrified of flying. And that was just after Hamish had realised that thing about their lack of chemistry, leaving to go to his land without her. And then Ruby had realised, despite or because of that drunken night, that Jack was the one and only.
And finally Jack told her what he would have never told her, if it wasn't for Hamish telling him that it was not Jack's fault, nor her's, but fate's. And that's the way it goes, sometimes, that life speeds up and rushes to a happy ending like a paper back novel you'd find at a truck stop. In a movie.