Page 222 of Valor

“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’tafraid to press him. He wanted the gold, and she was the only lead he had left. She bit the inside of her lip. How naïve 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.”

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