Page 79 of Valor (Long Hot Summer: Christian Romantic Suspense #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Northern Moravia, 1942

Had Honza told him that they would be trekking over the mountain peaks for over a week, Fred would have stayed with his cousin in the shack. His brother seemed to have an endless supply of energy, and although Fred was used to hard labor at the mill, there were moments when he thought he wouldn’t make it. But when he looked ahead and saw his brother climbing over the rocks with ease, he mustered the courage to follow.

Although unsure of what lay ahead, he was alive. And that meant he had a fighting chance to find her. Hedvika came to him in his dream every night as he laid his head down to sleep. Just before the fatigue overtook him, his mind created a perfect image of her. She smiled at him, and Fred was able to tell her everything. First, he told her how sorry he was for what his father had done. For the unspeakable evil that befallen her family. He was sorry for the time she had to spend in the barn, sleeping on hay. A tear would slide out from underneath his tightly shut eyelids, and Fred would struggle to hold onto her image. And just before sleep would come, and with the blessed rest his body desperately needed, she would smile at him and whisper that she had already forgiven him.

Honza would shake him awake, always too early, and the brothers would set out on the next leg of the treacherous journey. They didn’t speak much, the air too thin, and their pace too brisk. But as the days progressed, Fred told Honza the entire story of what had happened at the mill and of their father’s guilt. Somehow, sharing the burden with his brother made his sorrow lighter, but it didn’t take it away.

And then, without a warning, things shifted. Honza guided him to a lower altitude, and once they entered the forest below the tree line, the punishing winds stopped. Fred felt the oxygen-rich air filling his lungs, and new strength rejuvenated his tired muscles. Had they finally reached their destination?

When a short whistling sound cut through the bird song, Honza signaled to halt. He whistled a short melody, and Fred understood that it had been a signal. Four armed men stepped out of the shrubs, and Fred wondered how come he had not noticed them. They wore ragged clothes; one of them had a Wehrmacht jacket on, all insignia removed. Fred understood that these were his brothers’ comrades, yet fear threatened to choke the very breath out of him. The last time he had seen a group of men holding rifles, they had murdered Hedvika’s family.

The men exchanged a few short words, and then the entire group moved forward, Fred at the center of the imperfect circle. His heartbeat was in his ears, his mind swirling with questions of what would come next. They approached an outcropping of jagged rocks and squeezed through a narrow gap between two boulders. As if by a wave of a fairy’s wand, they entered a clearing bordered on all sides by the ancient granite walls. Inside this natural fortification was an encampment that would become his home for the next two and a half years.

The group marched them toward one of the roughly built shelters. A tall man came out of this simple lean-to. His dark beard covered the bottom half of his face. He wore a tattered uniform Fred had not recognized, but when he saw Honza’s face crack with a smile, he was relieved. The bearded man held out a hand. The men hugged and exchanged a few words. Fred had no idea what they meant. The only thing he made out was the word brat , followed by Fred . Then, the tall man offered for his hand.

“Igor.” His strong grip made Fred flinch.

“Igor is the commander of this unit,” Honza clarified.

“What unit?”

“Litte brother,” Honza chuckled. “Welcome to the partisans.”

Fred stared at his brother. He had heard rumors of the resistance fighters living in the mountains, but how would this group help him find Hedvika? Who would protect Mother? They were over a week of marching through the roughest terrain away from the mill. The commander spoke again. Honza saluted, then motioned to Fred.

“Let’s go. I will introduce you to others and show you where we are staying.”

Fred followed, his eyes scanning the clearing, hoping to spot her among the small groups of people busy with various tasks.

Honza stopped in front of a lean-to, much like the one the commander lived in.

“This is it. Put your stuff inside, and let’s take a walk. I will explain how things work around here.”

Fred tossed his flour sack in, thankful to be rid of the load.

“We all have nicknames; that way, if anyone gets caught, they won’t give up any important information. Give me a name you like.”

Fred clenched his jaw. After a moment of thought, he looked his brother in the eyes.

“Tell them my name is Miller. That way, every time anyone calls me, I will remember Father and what he had did. It will remind me why I’m still alive.”

Honza frowned. “And why do you think that is, aside from Mark risking his own life to save yours?”

“To avenge them.” Fred clenched his jaw. Hot tears filled his eyes as the guilt and shame crushed his spirit.

His brother stepped closer and laid his hands on Fred’s shoulders. “And that we will, brother. You have my word.”

Honza took him from one shelter to another and introduced Fred to everyone at the camp. There was no way he could remember all their names. These people came here from all over. Fred recognized Polish and later understood that the commander spoke Ukrainian. Most of them were Slovaks, warmly welcoming him to the encampment.

But with each new person they met, his disappointment grew. Hedvika was not among them. Fred understood that asking questions would get him no answers, and if she had adopted a new name, as it seemed to be the rule at this camp, he would never find her. How many similar secret settlements were there throughout the mountains? That night, Fred promised himself that he would never stop searching for her. His life belonged to Hedvika, a small repayment for all that she had lost because of Father. And because of him. The folly of his own actions weighed heavily on his heart. Had he brought them straight into the forest and let them stay at the deer feeder, Father would have never known. All of them would still be alive.