Slocum #396 : Slocum and the Scavenger Trail (9781101554371) by Jake Logan

later in the day. He didn’t like the notion of being caught on the trail, even if they were on the easy section, in a downpour.
    He leaned back, then took her advice, and buttoned up. She didn’t want her brother knowing how she had spent the night. Slocum had to agree. Stephen was a nervy fellow and prone to jumping to conclusions. That his sister was with the hired help all night long would set him off and produce either anger or, worse from Slocum’s view, surliness. Once they got on the trail, the three of them needed to pull together or they would end up like the first party of prospectors had.
    Slocum checked his six-shooter, then pulled out his watchand peered at the face. The faint illumination showed him it was hardly 4 a.m. He settled back, thinking about how pleasurable—and unexpected—it had been with Melissa during the night. It was possible that everything was looking up for him.
    He might even find what happened to her pa. That would benefit them all.
    Tossing and turning, he found it impossible to get back to sleep, so he rose, secured his bedroll, and wandered down the incline to make a fire pit. As he worked, he took a deep breath and caught the odor of burning wood on the breeze. When he’d finished gathering wood and had everything ready for a cooking fire, he went exploring.
    Less than a hundred yards back along the trail he caught the aromatic scent of freshly brewed coffee. Alert now, he advanced more slowly and finally saw the glow of a fire a few yards off the trail. From what he could tell in the faint glow from the coals, three men huddled about drinking coffee. No words reached him, but the sight of mules secured to a line convinced him they were prospectors on their way over the pass to find fortune in the goldfields.
    He retraced his steps, reached the camp, and started his own fire. Stephen was first to come from his post near the mules, grumbling and yawning.
    “Coffee? Just boiled some,” Slocum said, holding up the coffeepot.
    “Yeah,” was all he got as a mumbled answer. Stephen found his cup and let Slocum slosh some of the liquid in it. He made a face when he tasted it, then said, “This tastes awful.”
    “You can make it next time,” Slocum said. He took a drink of the bitter coffee and fought to keep from making the same comment. Supplies bought down below were overpriced and only barely drinkable.
    “Needs a shot of whiskey in it to cut the taste,” Stephen said.
    “Of course you brought some, didn’t you, dear brother?”
    Melissa seated herself next to Stephen across the fire from Slocum. She avoided his eyes, but he saw a tiny smile curling the corners of her bow-shaped lips.
    Slocum began fixing some oatmeal, and as he stirred it, he asked, “Would you be willing to throw in with another party going over the pass?”
    “Another? Who?” This caught Melissa’s attention.
    “Three prospectors are on the trail a quarter mile behind us. If we team up, there’d be safety in numbers.”
    “You make it sound as if we’re sheep and there are wolves out there,” Stephen scoffed.
    “Not far off,” Slocum allowed. “I don’t know them or if they’d be willing, but I think they would.” He stared straight at Melissa. This time she caught his eye and blushed. What red-blooded prospector wouldn’t want to share the trail with a woman this lovely?
    “It would make the night safer,” she said slowly.
    He read more into her words than Stephen. With others standing guard, they wouldn’t be able to spend the night as they had, but splitting sentry duty made reaching Desolation Pass more likely.
    “I want to speak with them. To see how they act. I won’t allow ruffians around you, Melly.”
    “Oh, grow up, Stephen. I can take care of myself. I’ve heard bad language.”
    “Because you insisted on going to work with Pa.”
    “What kind of work did he do?” Slocum asked.
    Brother and sister looked at him as if he had grown a second head.
    “He’s a mining