Page 60 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER FIVE

Northern Moravia, 2025

“Hi, sorry to keep you waiting,” she said as Oliver opened the passenger door for her.

“No problem.” He smiled.

The scent of his aftershave tingled her nose. His shirt stretched over his biceps.

What are the chances that he is single?

She glanced at his left hand. No ring. Meghan settled in and clicked her seatbelt.

“How far is the store?”

“Half an hour, give or take. I’ll take you to a supermarket since you may need a few things that the village corner store might not have.”

“That would be great.”

He shut her door and walked to his side. His strides were confident as if he was in charge of much more than a high school history class. When he pressed the ignition button, the jazz station came on. Oliver peeled away from the curb.

“How was your first night?”

“Too short,” she suppressed a yawn. “Honestly, after I finished talking to my mom, letting her know I made it without being kidnapped, I just fell asleep on the sofa.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh.” Meghan tried to sound stern. “She is slightly concerned about you, probably trying to figure out how to get Interpol to vet you.”

“It’s good to have people who care.”

“Sometimes it gets to be a bit much,” she checked her phone. “She could call any time. Let me text her.”

Meghan typed the message and then looked out the window. Heavy gray clouds covered the sky. “Do you think it’s going to rain?”

“It had been raining for the past three days. We could use some sunshine.”

“How are the roads around here?”

“The roads?”

“I have some stuff to take care of and don’t want to get stuck somewhere.”

They passed the sign with the village name crossed out with a red line. Where were they going? Tall streetlights lined the two-lane road, so they were not leaving civilization, yet anxiety built up in her chest. She glanced at the phone.

“What’s the name of the store we are going to?” Why had she not asked that right away?

“Atlas.”

She typed it into Google Maps. Twenty-three minutes away. They were on the correct road. Meghan let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

“Hope you don’t mind me asking.” Oliver glanced at her. “What exactly do you have to deal with while you are here?”

Meghan hesitated.

“Sorry, you don’t have to tell me.”

“It’s not that. I’m here to sort out my inheritance, and frankly, I don’t know where to start.”

“Your inheritance?”

“My grandfather left me some property in the village, and I would like to see what it is before I decide what to do with it.”

“May I ask what property?”

“Some old mill.”

“What was your grandfather’s name?” Oliver suddenly sounded much more interested.

“Fred. Fred Nowak.”

“Grumpy Fred was your grandfather?” He chuckled.

“Did you know him?”

“Everyone around here knew him.”

“They did?”

“Yeah, he was a bit of a curiosity in the village.”

“Curiosity?” Her eyebrows knitted together. Mom had not talked about Grandpa much, but from what she mentioned, her grandfather was not an easy man to be around. That was the reason they visited only once. Meghan’s chest tightened at the memory. He screamed at them for being late to dinner, which they never planned. Mom called him that afternoon and told him she would take Meghan to a small zoo about an hour away. Meghan was already tucked in bed when he showed up at their hotel room and banged his fists on the door. He was drunk, seething with anger. When she let him in, Grandpa’s face was red, and a torrent of angry words spilled out of his mouth. Meghan was so scared that she pulled the blanket over her head and curled it up into a ball, covering her ears.

Mom used her sternest voice to speak to him in Czech. The only thing Meghan understood was her name. She peeked out from under the blanket after the door slammed shut. Mom’s lip quivered. Their suitcase was in the middle of the room, and Mom was tossing in their clothes. They left before the sunrise and had spent the rest of their holiday in Prague. Meghan had not seen Grandpa again.

“We are almost there.” Oliver’s voice brought her back to the present.

“I’m sorry.”

“No worries, you don’t have to talk about it.”

“Oliver, I have met my grandfather once. I was ten. The man scared me so much that I have never visited him again.”

“I could see that.”

“You can?”

“Fred had a mean streak, but he was also liked by many.”

“He had friends?”

“Well, the drinking sort.”

“Hmm. I remember that, too.”

“His friends?”

“The drinking.”

Silence settled over the car.

“I can take you to his favorite pub,” Oliver offered after a moment. “The regulars knew him, and there might be a few stories they could share with you.”

“Tell me about the mill.” Meghan picked up the phone. “Do you know where it is? Maybe I can look it up on Google Maps.”

“I don’t think it has an address. It’s in the forest. But if you look up the village, then the river, follow it straight north. You will see a clearing.”

“Is there a road?” She pinched the screen and zoomed in.

“Yes, but it’s not paved. It will be muddy. I don’t think many people use it.”

“Could I get there with a car?”

“A four-wheel-drive, maybe.”

Meghan brought the phone closer to her face. “There are two buildings there, but most of the area is covered by trees. And the small river runs right next to it.”

“Don’t let that fool you. We had a flood last spring, and some people are still recovering from that. The region is trying to regulate the river, but when the snow melts or rains like this,” he said as he turned on his windshield wipers, “many people start to worry.”

Meghan looked up from her phone.

“Oliver!”

Two black SUVs were speeding toward them, blocking both lanes.

Oliver cursed.

They were coming fast. Head-on.

Oliver swerved to the right. His car hit a curb.

Meghan instinctively covered her head, ready for the impact.

A fraction of a second before the collision, the SUV on the left swished by, and the car heading straight for them swerved into the left lane, speeding down the road as if nothing had happened.

“God!” Meghan breathed out a prayer.

“Are you okay?” Oliver reached for her; his hand gentle yet firm on her shoulder.

She placed her trembling fingers against her lips.

“Meghan?”

“Yeah,” she forced the word through the thick lump at the back of her throat.

Oliver shifted in reverse, checked his rear-view mirror, and drove back onto the road.

“I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry about.” She laid her fingers atop his hand, still lingering on her shoulder. “Thanks for?—”

Her voice broke.

He looked over at her. “Do you want me to stop?”

She shook her head. “I just need a minute.”

Oliver accelerated. The street widened into four lanes, and they passed the city limits. In the distance, the bright lights of a mall lit up the sky; the supermarket had to be just ahead.

“Is that where we are going?” Her voice was now steady.

“Yes. There is a coffee shop next to the store. Would you like to stop there?”

“Great.” She would love a coffee, or two to ward off the terrible fright of the near accident.

“You look like you could use a large latte. I guarantee it will be better than the one at the train station.”

How had he known what she had ordered?

The feeling of unease crept back into her mind. The sense of distrust, once again, took over her thoughts. But if Oliver had bad intentions, there were plenty of turn-offs along the road to town he could have taken and driven her who knows where. She understood from the online map that the forests in the area stretched from the outskirts of the villages across the mountains all the way to Poland to the north. Slovakia’s national park was to the east, and the forests still extended for hundreds of kilometers westward as well. They continued across the state line of Germany. A coffee shop was probably the safest place she could be.

“Could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course.”

“Would you tell me all that you know about the mill?”

He blew out his cheeks. “If anyone should know about the history of that place, it should be you, right?”

“Is there a history ?”

He pulled into a parking space. “Every house in this country has a history, even the new ones, because, most likely, they stand on a spot someone else once lived.”

Oliver unbuckled his seatbelt. “That’s why I love teaching at the high school. The kids need to know where they came from and who their ancestors were. The lack of sense of identity is a huge issue among many teenagers.”

Is he stalling? Meghan wondered at his long reply, which truly didn’t answer her question.

They got out of the car.

“How is this relevant to the mill?”

“Let’s just say that story is better told over a piece of dessert to combat the bitter taste it tends to leave in one’s mouth.”

* * *

Tread lightly. He scolded himself. Meghan was so personable and easy to talk to that he almost forgot he was on a job. The more lies he told her, the harder it would be to backtrack in the future. Oliver decided to stick to the truth as much as his mission allowed. He didn’t want to burn any chances with this woman if he could help it. Yes, she wasn’t from here, but that was one of the things that attracted him. Her questions made him smile. She was genuinely interested. They were almost at the entrance to the coffee shop. He scanned the parking lot. There were no black SUVs in sight. He would report the incident as soon as he got back to his laptop. In the meantime, he would keep a keen eye on their surroundings because the near collision wasn’t an accident. It was a message. She was shaken, and he needed to distract her.

“How about a couple of desserts to go with that latte?” He slowed his pace as they approached the entrance. Meghan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Cake for breakfast?” She peered inside the shop through the large display window.

“It’s a local tradition,” he chuckled.

“I hope they have one of those cream-filled desserts I remember eating as a kid.”

“You are in the Czech Republic. Every coffee shop has cream-filled desserts. It’s a law.” He shot her a playful, teasing glance.

“Is it?” She winked at him.

“An unwritten one.” He laughed.

“I still feel a little guilty.”

“Nah,” he waved his hand. “You are on vacation, aren’t you? What’s a little coffee date?” He reached for the door.

“Isn’t there someone expecting you back with the groceries?” Her eyes searched his as he pulled at the swirly handle. “Like a girlfriend or a wife?”

Nice. Oliver chuckled, holding the door open for her. “You don’t beat around the bush.”

“I just don’t want to get into trouble.”

“There isn’t,” he said and motioned for her to enter. “Now that you know, you simply have to have a coffee with me.”

“Sure,” she strode past him into the store, a cute smile on her face.

Robert better keep his distance. This woman packs enough charm to light my world on fire.