Page 78 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Northern Moravia, 2025

“What happened to Hedvika?” Meghan’s question interrupted the silence. Oliver was definitely growing on her. She loved the way his hands tenderly continued to work on her feet, warming up her whole body. He had the touch. If only they had been sitting on a picnic blanket in a sunny meadow and not in a dark, damp cave.

“She joined the resistance and married a Polish Jew. After the formation of Israel, they moved to Jerusalem. Hedvika became a lawyer, and her husband was a prominent architect.”

“Did she ever come back to this region?”

“Once.” Oliver took out his phone. His screen lit up.

“When was that?” Her interest piqued. Perhaps there was a good ending to this terrible tale after all.

“She came to Jakob’s wedding.”

“Oh, so he survived too. That’s wonderful.”

“No one would call living in the mountains for three years wonderful,” Oliver’s tone carried a touch of hardness.

“I didn’t mean it that way. I understand it must have been brutal, especially during the winters, but he made it. So did she. And he came back here. Is he still alive?”

“No, he passed five years ago.”

Meghan thought for a moment. “Jakob and Grandpa lived in the same area for the past twenty years?”

“Yep. What do you remember about your grandfather’s return to the Czech Republic?”

“I was a little kid. I hardly remember anything. Most of my memories of him are from that one visit in 2010. Grandpa came to see us at the hotel. He was so angry it scared me, and I never wanted to visit again.” Maybe if she understood his life’s story, perhaps she would also understand his angry outbursts.

Meghan had been only ten years old and very excited to see her grandpa. The old, rough-looking man who knocked at the door of their hotel room was far from the images her mind conjured up based on her early years’ photographs with Grandpa.

“He left Grandma and moved back here. They divorced a couple of years later. She died in 2014. Mom and she never liked to talk about him, so what you are telling me now is news to me.”

“Glad I can be of help,” Oliver grew somber. The change in his demeanor started to concern her. Was he worried about the goons outside trying to hunt them down, or did her questions stir up unwanted memories? She pulled her knees under her chin. Her feet were warmer, but the chill was getting into her bones. If they stayed here much longer, her teeth would start chattering.

“Tell me about Jakob.” She rubbed her shins.

“He came back after the war, most likely suffering from undiagnosed PTSD. As a disillusioned young teenager, he joined the People’s Militias and, after the February 1948 revolution, slowly rose in the ranks of the communist party. When his old family villa became vacant again after Fred escaped abroad, he took up residence there. In true communist fashion, he subdivided the villa into two separate apartments, stating that he was a proletariat and not the bourgeoisie and, therefore, didn’t need so much living space. There was an article about him in one of the local newspapers. I think it was written to commemorate the 25 th anniversary of our liberation by the Red Army. Ironically enough, it was also two years into the Russian invasion.”

The history lesson was getting a bit complex for Meghan’s liking. She was more interested in the personal stories of these people.

“But Jakob was Jewish.”

“He became an atheist and no longer practiced his religion.”

“Even though Hedvika moved to Israel?” She leaned against the damp wall.

“Politics got in the way. During that time, some joined the new government, some escaped the tyranny, and some stuck to their convictions and paid for them with their freedom or even lives.”

“Grandpa and Jakob lived in this area at the same time for a while. What does the history teacher know about that?” She smirked.

Oliver’s left eyebrow shot up. “They did.”

“And?” She copied his animated reaction.

“Well, they inevitably ran into each other from time to time.”

“Why do I feel you are a little hesitant to talk about this?”

“You remember your grandfather. Imagine him times two, and you get Jakob. When Fred took possession of the old mill once again in 1994, after the courts recognized his claim, Jakob hired lawyers and fought the decision. He claimed that since his family is buried on the site, it should receive a special designation as a WWII memorial site. Fred asked Jakob to exhume the remains of his family and transfer them to the old Jewish cemetery on the outskirts of town. Jakob refused. It got ugly for a while.”

“Did anyone pick up his torch? Could the man in a fedora have some beef with me? However, after seeing the ruins, I don’t understand why anyone would be interested in that land. Unless the rumor is true and there is a boatload of gold buried somewhere in the vicinity, which frankly sounds like a tall tale to me.”

“It isn’t,” Oliver said firmly.

“You seem pretty convinced.”

“Dr. Weiss was a dentist. I already told you that. But it was his wife who came from money. Her father was an Austrian banker. They enjoyed a pretty good lifestyle, traveled, and collected art. Mrs. Weiss owned an impressive collection of jewelry.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’m a historian.” He grinned. “And one of my old classmates works at the local archives.”

* * *

“I’m starving,” Meghan sighed.

“I got you.” Oliver patted the windbreaker underneath them and pulled out a granola bar.

“Where did you get this?”

“In my pocket.”

“What else are you concealing?”

The fact that she was able to keep it light even under such dire circumstances made him like her even more. This girl was something else.

Meghan unwrapped the granola and then broke it in half.

“Here.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’m not hungry.”

“Right.” She smirked. “I have seen you eat. Take it.”

He accepted the offering.

“Seriously, how do you know all this stuff,” Meghan asked between bites.

“I did my homework.”

“There is more to that. The headstones behind the mill,” she glanced at him. “How are you connected to that family?”

He stared into the darkness. Was this the right time to disclose the rest of the facts?

Meghan reached over and touched his arm. “Tell me.”

Oliver’s jaw tightened.

“Be honest,” Meghan said in a low voice, obviously connecting all the pieces of this puzzle. “They are your ancestors. Am I right?”

Oliver remained silent.

“How did you know I would be on that train?” She was looking straight at him. “Did you stage the break-in?”

“No.”

“When are you going to tell me what’s really going on here?”

He clenched his fists.

“I need to know. Please.”

* * *

Meghan wasn’t afraid to press him. He wanted the gold, and she was the only lead he had left. She bit the inside of her lip. How na?ve had she been thinking he was interested in her? This entire knight in shining armor was a charade carefully constructed to win her trust and lead him to his treasure. But she needed him, too. He was her ticket out of this mess. When he turned to face her, she glared at him. Her heart ached because if she could be honest with herself, as much as it made no sense, she was falling for him. But where there was no trust, there could be no relationship.

“Go on.” She nodded encouragingly as if he needed her approval to finally tell her the whole story.

“Meghan,” he said and reached for her hand.

“Don’t.” She moved it away.

“Things got more complicated than I planned.” Oliver cleared his throat.

“So, you admit it. You planned this—” she waved her fingers in the air. “What should she call it? A ploy?”

“Let me start at the beginning.”

“We have been to the beginning, Oliver.” Her voice was stern. “Tell me what’s going on. Now. This—” She pointed to him, then to herself. “The charming high school history teacher helping out a stranded girl.”

“I—” The words seemed to catch in his throat.

She waited.

“Jakob was my grandfather.”

Meghan stayed motionless.

“The agency set up the Airbnb.”

She hoped her glare would burn straight into his soul.

“That’s how I knew when you would be checking in. From there, I worked out which train you would be on and waited at the station.”

Her stomach dropped. He planned this entire thing. Gained her trust. He moved her to his house so he could keep an eye on her. Had she ever met anyone this sly? She was lost for words.

“I have nothing to do with the people following you.”

“But you know who they are. Right?” She dug her nails into the soft cushions of her palms. How could she have been this stupid? Mom was right in telling her to be careful, and Meghan had brushed off all her concerns. Now she was stuck in a cave with a man who plotted to?—

“I do.” He dropped his gaze.

“Did you tell your police friend?”

“We are on the same team.”

“What team?”

Oliver remained silent, much to her frustration. She pushed off the ground and stood.

“I have had enough.” She paced around the perimeter of the cave. “You will tell me right now who is after me because, if you don’t, I’ll leave. No matter how much you want to find your treasure.”

“Yarda is my partner.”

She blew out her cheeks. “So, you are not a high school teacher?”

“It’s my cover.”

He stood up and tried to reach for her.

“Meghan—”

She pushed him back. “Who. Are. You?”

Oliver cleared his throat. It was time to come clean. “I’m the chief investigator for the Bureau of Investigation and Art Recovery. Our team is tasked with locating and identifying stolen Jewish property, including gold, art, and documents.”

Meghan swallowed. “And the people chasing us?”

“They are connected to Fritz.”

“The Nazi commander? Wouldn’t he be like 100 years old by now?”

“He had a son. With your great-aunt Marta.”

Meghan’s eyes grew wide.

“The man in the fedora is your mother’s cousin. His name is Robert. The family lived in West Berlin during the Cold War era. But once the borders opened in the early 90s, they came back. For a visit.”

Meghan frowned.

“Robert wanted to buy the mill from your grandfather. Fred wouldn’t sell.”

“Was Jakob still alive during that time?”

“Yes.”

“Did he want the mill, too?”

“Yes.”

Meghan covered her mouth. The story finally made sense. She had become a pawn in the middle of a dangerous family feud and a deadly treasure hunt.

God, how did I get here? I have nothing to do with this. Please, get me out.

“Let me show you one more thing.” The beam of his phone light illuminated the names written on the face of the rock, about halfway down the list. “Look closer.”

Hedvika, Fred, Karel, Honza, Jakob, Mark .

“They made it all the way here, hid in this cave, and waited for the contacts that would guide them over the mountains or to other hiding places in this area. Most of them became a part of the resistance.”

Meghan ran her fingers over the rough letters. Suddenly, Oliver’s story became real. Seeing her grandfather’s name written on the face of the rock made it personal. Finally, she understood what Oliver was after. It wasn’t a pot of gold; it was justice.

“Karel made it all the way to England and joined the RAF.”

“What?” She looked at him in disbelief. “How? It’s hundreds of kilometers away. He would have to cross the enemy lines.”

“Or go east.”

“To Russia?’

“The Tatra mountains in Slovakia were a major resistance stronghold. The partisans received aid from the Russians. They sabotaged the Germans by blowing up bridges. They worked with covert missions, stealing or disabling Luftwaffe aircraft. They hid people, nursed the wounded pilots, and guided them over the mountains back to Russia.”

Meghan spun around, taking in the dark space. This cave played a major part in Czech history, but she was more than ready to see the light of the day. The paradox of their situation did not escape her.

“Speaking of Russians. Do you think we could check if they are gone? I’d like to use a real bathroom soon.”

He chuckled. “Let me go out and see. I’ll be right back.”

Meghan gripped his hand. “You are not leaving me here alone.”

Oliver pulled her closer. “I’m—I don’t know what I’ll find at the entrance. If they are in the area, I don’t want you to be in danger.”

“I think it’s a little too late for that.” She looked up. His breath caressed her cheek. There was so much more to this high school teacher. Her heart skipped a beat. If only she dared to kiss him.

Meghan pulled away, regaining her senses. It was his fault she was stuck in this cave with mercenaries at her heels. Had he been honest with her since the start, she would have had more options. A local real estate agent could have already listed the property, and she could have enjoyed the rest of her trip sightseeing. But instead, she was here, in a dark cave, worried she’d be found by a group of armed men.

“Let’s go,” she said in a tone that left no room for discussion.

“Stay close to me.” Oliver pointed his phone light toward the narrow passage. “And don’t do anything stupid.”

“Me?” She almost felt offended. Meghan had done nothing dumb except get into his car and ask him to take her shopping. And moved into his house. Gone on an excursion into a forest, in the mountains, the name of which she couldn’t even pronounce. Yes, none of that was stupid . Meghan promised herself that as soon as they got out of this situation, she would seek out a lawyer, hand over all the paperwork for the mill, and book the first flight to Canada. She was done with this cat-and-mouse game.

Mindful of the low-hanging boulders, Meghan followed Oliver’s lead. As they approached the mouth of the cave, he slowed down.

“You know the way from here,” he said as he turned back to face her.

She frowned.

“I want you to stay in this tight passage until I know what we are dealing with. If I don’t come back in five minutes, wait here till Yarda comes to get you.”

“I’m not staying here.”

“Yes, you are,” he said in such a stern voice it took her aback. “They are armed. We don’t have any weapons to defend ourselves with. If they capture me, I will find a way to get out of the situation, but if they capture you?—”

His voice trailed off as his gaze bore into hers. Oliver ran his fingers across her cheek. “These men are a trained unit. They must be on loan from one of the organized crime conglomerates. Russians deal in drugs, weapons, and human beings.”

“What?”

“I believe the correct term is human trafficking.”

She bit her lip. Was he worried that she could be captured and sold off to the highest bidder?

“Meghan, if they grab you, there is no guarantee I can get you back.” He was serious.

She threw her arms around him.

He held her tight to her chest.

“Come back for me,” she whispered.

He kissed her temple. “I will.”

She let go of him, clutching her phone. As he squeezed through the passage, her chest tightened. Panic threatened to close her throat. What if her phone died? She would have no light to find her way out. Meghan took a deep breath and counted to five, but before she could finish her exercise, a rapid succession of shots cut through the silence.