Page 207 of Valor

She covered her mouth with her hands and shook her head. Her breaths were shallow, her eyes wide. He didn’t need his keen investigator skills to see that she was completely freaked out.

“Why don’t we take a quick look around and then get out of here? I will tell you what I know,” he suggested.

More likely, what he was allowed to share, for he knew far more than she could handle at this moment. He got out of the car before he reached for her and wrapped his arms around Meghan’s shoulders. He longed to assure her that she was safe. He had the skills to keep her out of harm’s way. But if he got any closer to her, how would he restrain himself from kissing her?

I’m in deep trouble.

CHAPTERFOURTEEN

Northern Moravia, 1942

A cracklingfire woke him up. Fred opened his eyes. Huge boulders towered all around him and ended in total darkness. Shadows danced on the walls. Water dripped somewhere in the distance. He was in a cave. Alive. Fred pushed up on his elbows, hoping to see the person who dragged him in there. But where was Hedvika? Jakob? Fred sat up so abruptly that the headache almost blinded him.

“Hey, take it easy,” a familiar voice cut through the confusion. Then, a strong hand pushed him back into the makeshift bed of pine branches and sheep hides.

“Mark? Where?—”

“Just stay still. You have a pretty big gash on your head. I don’t have much to stop the bleeding.”

“Where are they?” He turned toward the familiar face. His cousin looked older; his face covered in a beard.

“They are with Honza.”

“What?”

Mark let out a slow breath. “There are a few things you don’t know.”

Fred shifted his weight and then leaned against the cold stone.

“I’d say,” He mumbled under his breath, still unsure if this was a dream or if he drowned and entered some purgatory. “Can I see her?”

“All you need to know that they are safe. For now.”

Fred grunted. His eyes traveled around the perimeter of the cave. The small fire in the center gave enough light for him to make out a rifle leaning against the back wall, a plank supported by two stones laid out with some food, and a bale of straw his cousin sat on.

“You’re gonna have to take off your wet clothes. I can help you.”

Fred grimaced. Then, he slowly pulled his arm out of the wet sleeves of his shirt. That made him dizzy.

Mark got up and yanked. “Let me—” Not waiting for Fred’s reply, he pulled the soaked fabric over his cousin’s head. “Now, your pants. Want help with that?”

“No.” Fred stretched on the bed and wriggled his legs out of the sticky trousers. Mark shook out the clothes and hung them over a couple of tall branches that leaned against the wall. The dark stain on the back of the shirt made Fred cringe.

“You live here?”

“From time to time.”

“I thought you were drafted into Wehrmacht.”

“I was, but I’m not a killer.”

Their eyes met. “So, if they find you?—”

“Same as you. And them.”

Fred nodded. “What’s next?”

“We will stay here till tomorrow. I need to make certain you can trek across the mountains.”

---