Page 57 of Rafe’s Future

Rafe’s huff of laughter filled the noticeably cooler air. Like before, he entered a code, the locks engaged, and the tiny green light turned red. One by one, a seemingly endless line of industrial-looking lights lining the center of the tunnel’s ceiling suddenly came to life.

“Follow me.”

With a set of belated steps, she hurriedly caught up with his broad stride. Several yards in, Lena found herself entranced by the stone walls and ceiling. She fell back, moving closer to study their structure with a more detailed eye. Beneath the overhead light, Lena realized the walls and curved ceiling weren’t constructed of stone at all.

It’s brick.

Crude, imperfect, handcrafted bricks. Each painstakingly laid. One by one . . . by one.

Curiosity had her reaching out. Lena’s fingertips brushed lightly across the warped face of one of the blocks. It was smoother than expected, and a bit wavy in its formation.

When she traced a slightly angled, vertical indentation like many others that were easily seen, she realized the marking was an imprint made by someone else’s finger. Left by the hands of the bricks’ creators.

Past American history lectures rushed back to the forefront of her mind. She thought about where they were and why a tunnel like this would have been needed.

Lena recalled reading a book years ago that mentioned how slaves sometimes had to make the very bricks needed to build their own quarters. Those same bricks were also used in the construction of other homes, military forts, and various other structures throughout the South.

Oh, wow.

Emotion left her chest tight as she traced the felt mark once again. “This was part of the Underground Railroad.”

Rafe’s footfalls ceased when he realized she’d stopped. “Did you say something?”

“Was this tunnel part of the Underground Railroad?” Her hand fell away.

“As a matter of fact, it was.”

Wow. “That’s . . . I can’t believe you were able to purchase such a historic property.” She looked back at him. “The city could have turned this place into an amazing museum. You know, to showcase the strength and determination of not only those who were forced into captivity, but also the people who risked their own freedom and lives to help others escape.”

“The city probably would have made it into a museum . . . if they knew the tunnel was here.”

Lena walked over to where he was waiting. “They don’t?”

“No one does, aside from myself and Alice. And now, you, of course.” He glanced around. “This tunnel isn’t on any schematic or proprietary record I could find. Even Alice came up empty.”

“I’m not surprised you had your genius daughter dig into the property’s history. She probably would have been my first call, too.”

His focus returned to her, his lips curving into a slow smile, and just like that, Lena was thinking about their kiss. The fleeting moment of passion had been permanently seared into her brain, but she had to wonder⁠—

Has he thought about it, too?

Rafe’s entrancing stare held hers a beat longer, but then he blinked, and the spell was instantly broken.

“I stumbled upon the tunnel during the remodel of the situation room.” His attention returned to the underground path.

Lena followed his lead. “But you just said no one except you and Alice knows this is here. Wouldn’t the construction crew⁠—”

“There was no crew.” He spared her a sideways glance. “Not for that room, anyway.”

“Are you saying you did all the remodeling yourself?”

“For that room, yes.” Rafe shrugged. “Given what it was designed for, I thought it best to keep that portion of the basement private.”

“Smart.”

His dark brows dipped a bit in the center. “You know, you keep saying that as if you’re surprised by my ability to make intelligent decisions.”

Lena’s echoing laughter traveled through the musty, dank air. “I’m not surprised that you're capable. It’s just that . . . I don’t know. I guess I never pictured you as a hammer-and-toolbelt kind of guy.”