Page 70 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Northern Moravia, 2025

Oliver got out first. He shut the door to his car with a firm thud and surveyed the area. Was he checking they were alone? Meghan unbuckled reluctantly, then pushed the passenger door open. Rushing water claimed the silence of the clearing, yet the birds, used to this ancient sound, chirped overhead, undisturbed.

A gust of wind rustled in the trees as if the forest was trying to warn her. She carefully shut the door and walked up to Oliver. Had she not been afraid that he would think her childish, she would have gripped his hand. The remnants of an old mill burnt out long ago towered in front of her.

What was Grandpa thinking?

She walked toward what had once been a barn. Meghan peered inside through the wide opening, void of doors. “I don’t know if anyone would even buy this,” she let out a pent-up breath. “Do you think it’s safe to walk inside?”

“Let’s see,” Oliver stepped into the dark space. “They used to keep horses here.” He picked up a piece of old bridle from the debris covering the floor. Meghan’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. The old wooden stalls to her right missed a plank or two. Cobwebs hung from the decaying roof. She cautiously took another step.

“What’s up there?” Meghan pointed to a platform above their heads.

“A hayloft.”

Her disappointment mounted. There was nothing here for her. Mom was right. She needed to find an agent brave enough to list this property and search for a buyer.

Oliver ventured further into the darkness. He pulled out his phone and shone its faint light up a rickety ladder leading up.

“Want to check that out?” He glanced her way.

“And fall through the rotten planks? No, thank you.” She kicked the stall door to her left. It swung open. A sudden flutter of wings startled her. She yelped.

“Meghan?” Oliver turned around, his light on her.

Her hands trembled with the sudden jolt of adrenaline. “Just a bird.”

Oliver walked toward her, and for a moment, she thought he would hug her.

“Look.”

She followed the beam of his light, and her eyes grew wide. Large block letters covered the back wall of the stall, and the glistening red paint looked like blood.

GET OUT!

“We should leave.” The tone of his voice sent shivers down her spine.

The message was meant for her. Why else would anyone graffiti this old barn in English? “Maybe you could tell me what is really going on,” she whispered.

“There is an old rumor about this place.”

She stepped closer to him, her eyes searching his. “Tell me.”

“Your grandfather didn’t leave you anything else but this?”

“What are you talking about?”

A gust of wind blew inside the barn, setting off an eery symphony of creaking wood.

“Let’s get out of here,” Oliver reached for her hand.

“Tell me.” She pulled back.

“The weather is changing. Let’s get back on the road, and I promise to tell you all I know.”

Meghan folded her arms. She didn’t like his new attitude. He looked concerned yet still held out on her.

“Okay, let me show you something. But after that, we must get back on the road.”

She followed him out of the spooky barn. The sky overhead grew heavy with dark clouds. Oliver walked in the opposite direction of the car, and Meghan hoped that whatever he was about to show her was worth getting wet. Thunder clapped in the distance.

As they trudged through tall grass at the river’s edge, a thought of snakes flashed through her mind. They passed the burnt-out ruin of the mill, which gave her the creeps. Meghan, her phone in hand, started to record a video. She would send it to Mom as soon as she was somewhere with a cell signal, along with an apology for being so stubborn about this.

Oliver stopped. Meghan looked around. Were these headstones? Her stomach twisted. She took a step back.

“What is this?”

“Your great-grandfather was—” Oliver paused, perhaps searching for the correct words. A bird screeched overhead.

“Just tell me before I lose my nerve and run back to the road.”

Oliver pointed to three stones to the right. “That over there is Dr. Weiss. He was a dentist in town. His wife and his son Isaac. He was less than a year old.” He nodded toward the small marker on the right.

“Why are they buried in the forest and not at a cemetery.”

“They died here in 1942.”

Meghan stared at him, unsure what that meant.

“They were Jewish,” he somberly added.

She inhaled sharply. The nameless grave markers brought tears to her eyes.

Oliver proceeded toward the graves, ran his hand over the first stone, and looked up. And Meghan knew. None of this was a coincidence: her being here, Oliver offering her a ride at the train station, the man following her, the break-in, the message in the stall.

She turned around, ready to get back to Oliver’s house and retrieve her belongings. Tomorrow, she would be on the first flight out of this country.

“Wait,” he said.

She whipped around.

“Let me tell you?—”

“They were your relatives. Right?” She would sign this property over to the state if that were the easiest way of getting rid of this mill, the falling barn, and this horrific story. A tear slid down her cheek. The man standing in front of her deceived her.

“You need to know the whole story.”

Meghan folded her arms and glared at him. If he wanted her to feel guilt for her ancestor’s action, she would disappoint him. Meghan had no connection to this mill. The tragic death of this family had nothing to do with her.

“Your great-grandmother is here too.” He pointed to a headstone barely visible in the shrubs to the left.

The sound of an approaching vehicle rumbled through the air. Oliver motioned to Meghan to be still. The engine cut out. Four distinct thuds of car doors slamming interrupted the peace of the clearing. Barked commands carried on the forest breeze. Oliver reached for Meghan and pulled her to the ground.

“Stay down,” he whispered.

Her breath strangled in her lungs. What did she get herself into?

“When I give you the sign, get behind the headstones.” Oliver crouched forward.

God, please help us.

* * *

Oliver was careful, checking if anyone followed them. No one had. He ducked into the tall grass. The four men, their faces covered in ski masks, rifles in hands, searched the clearing. They didn’t know where Meghan and he were hiding. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the group. These guys meant business. None of them looked like Robert, but Oliver was positive the man was behind this. From the gruff words that carried over to his hiding spot, he deduced they were Russians. Robert must have hired them to help him hunt down Meghan. A second car pulled into the clearing. Now, he had a small army on his hands. This situation had escalated fast.

Oliver carefully crept toward Meghan. He placed his index finger over his lips and motioned to her to follow. When they were about a hundred meters away from the mill, he stopped in the underbrush.

“They are armed,” he whispered.

Meghan inhaled sharply.

“But they have not seen us.” He tried to assure her.

She was right to be scared. The goons by the mill didn’t come to hunt deer. He had to keep her safe.

“Ready?”

“Yep.” She squeezed his fingers. “But only if you start being honest with me.”

He swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth.

“Okay. Let’s go.”

He aimed for the thick growth and then ran up the hill along the riverbank. The shrubs were dense, and their branches lashed against them. He chose this route in hopes that the men would be unable to track them.

He caught a buzzing noise over the sound of rushing water. Oliver looked up. The military-grade drones hovered over their heads. He needed to take her somewhere safe.

“We have to cross the river,” he said, stopping to catch his breath. “Now.”