Slocum #422 by Jake Logan

clothes and work into the duds she had taken from the car. While she dressed, he hiked back toward the bridge supports. The construction crew had cleared a path, making it easier to reach the spot where the rung ladder climbed up the support.
    â€œI see where the trestle crumpled,” Marlene said. She pressed close to him. Although she had changed into decent clothing, she was as soaked through as he was from the constant spray. A little shiver hinted at how cold she was but she never complained. “Is that the way to the top of the world?”
    â€œBack to the world,” Slocum said. He looked at her. Starlight caught water droplets in her hair and turned them into diamonds amid the golden strands. Although she was drenched and shivered like a drowning rat, he found himself liking the way she looked. It was natural and wild.
    Slocum shook himself. This wasn’t the time, and she was the boss’s daughter.
    â€œShould I go first or will you?”
    â€œIf I followed, I’d be forced to look up your skirt the whole way,” he said.
    Marlene recoiled, then grinned a little. “Is that such a burden for you, Mr. Slocum?”
    â€œIf it doesn’t offend you, your going first makes sense. My heavier weight might pull loose a rung. You’d never be able to keep me from toppling into the river.”
    â€œBut my lighter weight might not dislodge a loose rung? Yes, that makes sense. And if I fell, you could rescue me. Very well. I’ll go first.”
    Slocum marveled that she believed he could catch her if she fell, yet he detected no hint of sarcasm in her words. She began climbing. When he followed, he discovered that the darkness prevented him from seeing anything that would offend her modesty.
    â€œIt is a very long way to the top, isn’t it?” she called back after fifteen minutes of climbing.
    â€œRest if you have to. We can find a cross beam and sit on that.”
    â€œI was not complaining, just opining that it is taking so long. Why, the sky is brightening. Dawn cannot be far away.”
    Slocum tried to piece together how long he had taken from the time he jumped off the Yuma Bullet to now. It all flowed together like the river below. Jefferson and the mail clerk were dead and lost in watery graves, but he had saved Marlene Burlison. Or had he really? Her legs had been pinned but her spunk and determination told him she wouldn’t have simply given up and died. Somehow she would have saved herself. That presence of mind appealed to him.
    â€œI see the top! I do!”
    She scrambled up the rungs faster now, giving Slocum a better look at her legs. The faint dawn helped. And once she had reached the tracks, she was bathed in the warmth of a new desert day.
    Slocum pulled himself up after her, then froze.
    â€œThey haven’t come to rescue us, have they?” Marlene said in a low voice.
    Slocum looked at the Apache braves decked out in their war paint. The Indians turned their horses toward him and began trotting over, waving rifles in the air.
    â€œNo, they haven’t.”

8
    Slocum stepped forward and put himself between the Indians and Marlene. The riders came hard, kicking up a dust cloud that obscured the railroad tracks. With a ­lightning-­fast calculation, Slocum realized the Apaches might not have seen Marlene. He stepped back, grabbed her around the waist, and picked her up, kicking.
    â€œWhat are you doing, Mr. Slocum? Put me down.”
    He did. He dropped her between the cross ties to a rocky slope beneath. Marlene yelped and lost her footing. For a frightening instant he thought she would tumble on down the side of the canyon and fall back into the river. An agile twist brought her around to slide on her belly. She found purchase with her toes and then seized a ragged hunk of metal sticking down from the tracks.
    â€œDon’t say a word. Don’t move,” he ordered as he slid his Colt from its holster. The water