Page 57 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER TWO

Northern Moravia, 1942

The wagon rattled along the muddy road winding through the forest. Fred Nowak held his breath every time the horses whinnied.

“Shh,” he hushed them. His eyes darted from tree to tree, peering through the darkness. He prayed that no one was hiding in the underbrush, watching them. Hedvika clung to him, seemingly not concerned with what her parents would say. Dr. Weiss was at the back of the wagon with Mrs. Weiss and Hedvika’s two younger brothers. Isaac whimpered.

“Tell your mother to make him stop,” Fred whispered.

Hedvika leaned into the tarp-covered wagon, her index finger pressed against her lips, and then turned to Fred. She was so close that he felt her breath on his cheek.

Despite the night’s chill, heat crept up the back of his neck.

“How much further?”

He understood why she was so impatient but couldn’t take any unnecessary risks.

“I can’t go any faster.”

Her icy fingers wrapped around the outside of his clenched fist. Fred looked down in surprise, wishing he could hold her hand. Instead, he gripped the reins even tighter. The horses pulled the wagon through the dark forest, nearly blind. He would do his utmost to avoid a disaster.

“What if they catch us?” she whispered into his ear. His whole body prickled with goosebumps.

“No one is going to look for you till you miss your transport.”

A sob escaped her.

“Shh.” He moved a little closer to comfort the beautiful girl huddling next to him. Keenly aware of the dirt on his clothes, Fred hoped that he wouldn’t soil her gorgeous coat. But keeping her near would warm Hedvika up. One of his horses snorted. Fear made his legs tingle. The horses, the sobbing child inside the wagon, Hedvika’s impatience—who was there to calm him?

Lord, have mercy on us. I know they don’t go to our church, but they pray to you like we do. Please keep us safe.

The sound of rushing water somewhere ahead of them disturbed the night’s hush. His heart thumped in his ears. How was he going to tell Father?

“Only a short while longer,” he whispered.

“Thank you.” Hedvika shimmied even closer. Her beautiful dark hair tickled his temple. Their legs touched. He had never been this close to a girl save his sister. But Marta was gone now, married to Fritz Eisenhart. Everything had changed over the past four years. He missed his brother the most. Honza and his friend Karel vanished right after the Germans arrived in the village. They had left him to work with Father and Mother, to run the mill.

Hedvika leaned into him.

Heat rushed to his face. Fred was thankful for the darkness that enveloped them. Her scent of rose water made him dizzy. Hedvika was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. Under normal circumstances, he would never have had a chance to talk to her. Dr. Weiss was a dentist, and his kind of well-to-do people didn’t mix with the poor folks like him.

The sound of rushing water drowned out the rattling of the wagon. Fred pulled into the clearing and drove the horses close to the barn. He hopped off and offered her his hand. She held onto him, and Fred wished that God would stop the time and give him words to tell her how he felt. When Hedvika landed on the soft ground, she steadied herself against him. He fought the urge to embrace her. And when the clouds shifted in the sky, and the soft moonlight shimmered in her hair, he was tempted to kiss the girl. Then he remembered her parents were in the wagon. Fred cleared his throat.

“Let’s get everybody into the barn.”

He let go of her hand and rushed to the back of the wagon. Fred unbuckled the clasp, holding down the back flap of the tarp, and pulled it to the side. Dr. Weiss handed him his older boy. Jakob was close to ten, light as a feather. Fred set him down next to Hedvika. The boy grabbed his sister’s hand. Dr. Weiss passed baby Isaac to him next. Fred had never held a child this small. He was relieved when Hedvika let go of Jakob’s hand and reached for the bundle. Mercifully, the child had gone back to sleep.

“Grab my hand,” Fred whispered and gripped the dentist’s fingers that skilfully saved his teeth five years prior. That day, one of their cows kicked him in the face. The blacksmith offered to pull the broken incisors out, but Mother insisted they needed to see Dr. Weiss. Father refused. But Honza hitched this same wagon and drove them to town while Mother held a torn linen bedsheet to Fred’s mouth.

When they returned, Father was livid. Mother begged him to be sensible. She even dropped to her knees. He hit her across the face. Then he took Honza to the barn. The mill shut down for two days after that, for neither of the boys could work.

“Thank you,” Dr. Weiss said. Once on the ground. The dentist ran his hands down his tailored trousers, attempting to brush off the flour. The white powder clung to his dark hair, his suit jacket, and even his shoes. He reached back into the wagon. Mrs. Weiss passed him their bags and suitcases.

“Give them to me,” Fred offered. He looked to the ground, careful not to set them in the mud.

Dr. Weiss helped his wife get down from the wagon. She, too, was dusted with flour. Fred wondered if he should offer one of the horse brushes so she could run it down the length of her fur coat. She patted herself, her expression somber. At least she looked warm.

The wind picked up and pushed the clouds toward the mountains. The clearing flooded with pale moonlight. Fred looked around, making sure no one was watching. His stomach was filled with knots. They were almost there. He prayed nothing would go wrong now.

“This way,” he whispered, his words heavy with urgency. He led the family to the barn. Fred opened the large wooden door, avoiding unnecessary noise. The familiar scent of hay and horse manure greeted them.

“I’m sorry, but this is the best I can do for tonight.”

His eyes caught Hedvika’s. A wave of shame flooded through him. Hedvika’s pretty clothes were so out of place here. Hopefully, she wouldn’t hate him for this. Fred would gladly sleep with the horses and give them his room. Mother would be fine with that, but what about Father?

“Sorry about the smell.”

But the family remained standing outside, seemingly unsure of what to do. Fred needed to get them out of sight in case Father woke up and looked out the window.

“Come. Take these.” He held out two tattered horse blankets. Hedvika passed the sleeping baby to her mother and smiled at him. The silver moonlight glinted in her eyes as she accepted the meager offering from his trembling hands.

“Thank you,” she whispered. When their eyes met, Fred knew at that moment that he would do anything for her; all she had to do was ask.

“Thank you,” Dr. Weiss placed his hand on Fred’s shoulder, “for helping my family to get away before?—”

Mrs. Weiss pressed baby Isaac closer to her chest and stared at them. Her face seemed so pale; Fred wondered if she was going to faint. This was no place for a lady, the wife of a dentist and chair of the Woman’s Charity Club. How could he make her more comfortable? Jakob pulled at her arm. She looked at her son as if woken up from a trance.

“Yes, bubbale .”

“I’m tired, Mama.”

Dr. Weiss placed his hand against the small of his wife’s back, guiding her into the barn. Jakob followed.

Hedvika’s mother peered around the dark space. “Where—?” Her voice was so soft that Fred almost missed the question.

“I sleep in the hayloft during the summer,” Fred said under his breath. “But if I light the lamp?—”

“Don’t.” Dr. Weiss interrupted. “No light. We’ll settle down here.” He pointed to a stall.

“I have to unhitch the horses,” Fred mumbled.

“Do you need help?” Dr. Weiss asked.

Fred looked up. “You know how to do that?”

Dr. Weiss nodded. “You need to get to bed too, young man. There are only a couple hours left till dawn.”

“Hedvika, come.” Mrs. Weiss motioned toward the stall. “Let’s settle the boys in.”

Fred wished it would be her and not her father helping him to unhitch the wagon. Of course, he wouldn’t let her do any of the work. He wouldn’t mind if she watched him. They could talk. He would tell her how happy he felt when she approached him this afternoon as he delivered flour to the grocers. His heart thudded so loudly he could hardly concentrate when she said her family needed a favor. Upon seeing her beautiful brown eyes full of tears, his heart filled with overpowering compassion. He couldn’t have refused her, even if she had asked for his right arm.

Risking Father’s wrath, Fred had waited till everything grew quiet in the mill, and his parents turned in for the night. Hitching the wagon in the dark wasn’t hard. But driving the horses down the narrow forest road without light—that had been almost impossible. But he did it for her.

“Let me help you to bring the horses in.” Dr. Weiss’s voice brought him back to the task at hand.

“The stall on the left belongs to Blesk ,” Fred whispered. “I’ll tie Mila to one of the hayloft posts. He ran his hand down the white mare’s neck. “She will be fine. Right girl?”

Dr. Weiss closed the door to the stall. Blesk whinnied.

“They will settle once I shut the barn,” Fred said confidently. “I will come first thing in the morning. You can tell me then what your plans are.”

“Thank you,” Dr. Weiss placed his hand on Fred’s shoulder. “I will never forget what you did for my family. See you in the morning.”

“You are welcome,” Fred said, his throat thick with emotion. How could he tell this respected man that he would do anything for the Weiss family, especially if Hedvika looked at him with those beautiful brown eyes?

“It stinks in here,” Jakob whispered in the stall’s darkness.

“Come here, son.” Dr. Weiss joined his family. His voice was strong yet calm and carried through the night. “Sit on my lap; I will tell you a story from our Torah. We will pray to Yahweh and thank him for giving us this shelter.”

The muted rustle told Fred that the boy did as his father asked.

“Just like the Israelites when they escaped from Egypt?” The child’s voice was tired.

“Yes,” Dr. Weiss whispered.

Fred stood there, thankful for the cover of darkness for the third time tonight. A solitary tear rolled down his cheek. If he ever became a father, this is how he would talk to his child. A strong man could be calm and good. He could also love. A father didn’t have to be angry and terrifying.

Fred swallowed back the tears. Dr. Weiss was right. He had to get back to his room, tuck himself under his old duvet, and pretend he had been there all night.

God, what will tomorrow bring?

“Good night,” he whispered into the darkness, hoping Hedvika would hear him. Fred walked out of the barn and shut the double door. He looked at the crossbar, wondering if he should lock it, as Father made him do every night. But what if the family had to get out? There were two loose planks at the back of the barn that Honza pried off when Father locked them both in. But they wouldn’t know that. Fred decided to leave the barn unlocked so they wouldn’t get trapped.

He walked cautiously back to the mill. Carefully, he opened the side door, praying it wouldn’t creak. Fred kicked off his shoes and snuck into the kitchen.

A slap across his face made him stumble.

“Who is she?” Mother hissed in the darkness.

“What?” He was stunned.

“Who do you take me for? You are lucky your father is asleep. He would have your hide for this.”

“Mother—”

“Hush now. We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

Fred stood before her, his hand covering the stinging cheek.

“But—”

“I’m going to bed so your father doesn’t wake to see that I’m not there. But I tell you, this is not over.”

She flipped her hand up. Fred flinched. But no other blow fell on his head. Mother marched toward their bedroom and silently closed the door behind her.

Fred staggered to the opposite side of the kitchen and slipped into his room. As soon as the door latch clicked, he dropped to his knees and let out his suppressed emotions. The hot tears dripped on his shirt, and he clasped his hands.

“God, I’m afraid. I’m so scared I don’t know what to do.”