The Spiral Path (23 page)

The
sun was dropping below the adobe walls when Kenzie looked out into the garden.
"Ready to move on?"

Rainey sat cross-legged among kittens,
looking lovely and relaxed. Like herself again. "I only wish I could take
a couple of these little sweethearts with me." She kissed the tabby on its
tiny nose before setting it on the ground, then rose lithely and followed him
into the house.

Inside, she gave Mrs. Grady a warm
smile. "Thank you so much. You could patent those little fellows as the
Kitten Cure."

"Do you want a kitten or two?
They'll be old enough to leave their mother in a couple of weeks."

"If I weren't going to England next
week, I'd take you up on that," Rainey said.

"There are always more kittens in
the world when you're ready. It was nice to meet you, Miss Marlowe."

"Please call me Raine. Thanks so
much for letting me visit."

With a last smile, Rainey accompanied
Kenzie out to the SUV.

As he drove across the ranch, she asked,
"How do you know Mrs. Grady?"

"I'm buying Cibola from her and her
husband."

She stared at him. "Just like that,
after only a few days in New Mexico?"

"Just like that. The Gradys will
move to a modern redwood house, which will be built on the little lake to the
west--you might not have noticed it. I came by today to drop off the brochures
for some very nice factory-built houses. While you were kittenizing, Mrs. Grady
was choosing the model she liked best. If her husband agrees, construction will
get underway immediately."

"So you get caretakers, and they
get a low-maintenance retirement home. Sounds like a good deal, but I never
thought you'd buy a place so far from the sea."

He turned onto another road. In the
distance, a cluster of lights marked a small settlement. "Neither did I,
but I like New Mexico."

"I'm surprised you took me to
Cibola. I'd have thought you might prefer not to contaminate the place with my
presence."

Sometimes she was a little too
perceptive. "I can live with the memories of you and the kittens in the
garden." In fact, that image was burned into his brain to the point he'd
never be able to enter the garden without thinking of her. A bittersweet
memory. Maybe in time the sweet would outweigh the bitter. "Are you
hungry?"

"Ravenous," she admitted.
"I'd just started my sandwich when Emmy called."

"There's a barbecue place up ahead.
I ate ribs there a few days ago--greasy, fattening, deeply unwholesome, and
delicious. Are you up for it?"

Her face lit with laughter. "How
could I resist such a description?"

The small, casual restaurant reeked of
authenticity, not to mention barbecue sauce. When they entered, the hostess
glanced sharply from Kenzie to Rainey, but she made no comment, just led them
to a corner booth. The other customers were casually dressed and weathered by
wind and sun, working people who belonged to this part of the world as
thoroughly as Cibola did. Several glanced in their direction, then returned to
their own meals, respecting the couple's privacy as the hostess had.

As they waited for their orders of ribs
and a pitcher of beer, he said quietly, "People leave one another alone
here. It's another thing I like about this part of the world."

Rainey settled into the booth
appreciatively. "I could get used to this. Generally I don't mind signing
autographs, but I hate having my meals interrupted."

Steaming platters arrived promptly, and
Rainey fell on hers like a swarm of locusts. Besides eating her share of ribs,
along with coleslaw and potato salad, she still had room for a slab of apple
pie.

After rendering her side of the table a
wasteland, she leaned back happily and wiped her hands with a paper napkin.
"I didn't realize how hungry I was. What a great place. A good thing I
don't live nearby--I'd look like a blimp."

"Not any time soon. You've been
losing weight since shooting started, and there wasn't much of you to begin
with."

She smothered a yawn. "As soon as
we get back to the hotel, I'm going to go to bed and sleep at least eight
hours."

"We're not going back to the
hotel."

She snapped to full alert. "Enough
already, Kenzie. You've abducted me, cut my electronic leash, and gave me a
forced lesson in perspective, but it's time to get back."

"Several days ago I booked tonight
at a rather unusual bed-and-breakfast near here. Since tomorrow is Sunday, you
can afford to stay away a little longer."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "I
thought you said no seduction."

"Nary a hit." He hoped the
regret didn't show in his voice. "It's an apartment, so you can have the
bedroom while I sleep on the foldout sofa in the living room. All very
proper."

"Does the bedroom door have a
lock?"

"I think so." He drained the
last of his beer. "Your faith in me is touching."

She gave him a crooked smile. "What
if it's me I doubt? This won't be the same as having separate rooms at the
hotel, Kenzie."

"Nothing will happen unless it's
what we both want."

Her gaze dropped to the check. "I'm
buying dinner."

Which was, perhaps, her way of saying
that they might both want it, but it wasn't going to happen.

"How
far down is this place?" Rainey asked.

"One hundred and ten steps. We're
almost there." Kenzie war just below her, leading the way along stone
steps carved from a rugged cliff. Though the steps were wide, Rainey gave
thanks for the handrail on the left that separated her from a sheer drop of
three or four hundred feet.

Kenzie hadn't been kidding about this
place being unusual! He'd picked up keys at the nearby home of the man who
owned the bed-and-breakfast, then drove them to a place of serious emptiness.
One key had unlocked a massive door that was set in solid stone. It opened to
reveal the top of this staircase. A switch turned on low lights set on every
sixth step of the alarmingly long descent. As he closed the heavy door behind
them, Kenzie said, "I think we'll be safe from autograph hunters
here."

In true gentlemanly fashion, he went
first with his duffel bag, presumably to break her fall if she collapsed into a
maidenly faint. She wasn't about to do that, but she stayed as close to the
cliff as humanly possible.

Finally the staircase flattened into a
long, tiled balcony. To the right, sliding glass doors were set into the cliff.
Kenzie used the keys again to let himself in. Turning on a light, he asked,
"What do you think?"

"I've never seen anything like
this." Rainey halted on the threshold, stunned by the room carved out of
living stone. Walls and ceiling curved to suggest a natural cave, yet underfoot
was thick, plushy white carpeting. There wasn't a lot of furniture, but it was
well-chosen and comfortable. The over-stuffed sofa was angled to take advantage
of both a fireplace and the view out the glass doors.

"Quite something, isn't it?
Inspired by the cliff dwellings of the ancient Anasazi Indians, I understand. I
was lucky to be able to book the place for tonight--there was a
cancellation." Kenzie dropped his duffel behind the sofa and gestured for
her to explore. The bedroom was beyond, with a luxurious bathroom that included
a steam shower. In a corner of the living room was a kitchenette. Kenzie opened
the door of the small refrigerator. "Care for some white wine?"

"That would be nice." She
accepted a glass, thinking that even though he hadn't planned on seduction,
this place was damnably romantic. Uneasily she walked back onto the balcony and
halted with one hand on the railing.

Kenzie flipped off the staircase and
interior lights and came outside to stand a careful yard away from her. As her
eyes adjusted to the darkness, she began to pick out details of the moon-washed
landscape. At the foot of the cliff a small river glinted, while rugged rock
formations loomed on the far side of the canyon. The only sounds were wind,
water, and the rustle of a small beast higher up the cliff.

"This is definitely something
special," she said, voice low because noise seemed wrong in the cathedral
stillness of the night. "I'd love to work it into a movie."

He laughed. "You're a born
director, Rainey. Every sight, sound, and idea is grist for your mill."

"I think you're right." She
took another small sip of wine. The last thing she needed was to drink enough
to weaken her judgment. "As much as I wanted to act, I always had a vague
sense that there was something for me beyond acting. Do you have any desire to
produce or direct? Most actors do sooner or later."

"Not me. Acting was the only thing
I ever dreamed of doing. It's what I am."

"It isn't what you are. It's what
you do."

"Speak for yourself. If I'm not an
actor, I'm nothing."

In the moonlight, his features had the
cool symmetry of carved marble and the air of mystery that always made her year
to get closer, to try to grasp that elusive essence. Despite their years of
marriage and the ease between them at the moment, she still didn't know what
made him tick. Maybe no one did.

"What I'd like to know is why you
flipped out at the suggestion of playing Sarah," Kenzie remarked.
"It's a wonderful role, and you could do it well."

Her tranquility vanished. "For
God's sake, Kenzie, what part of 'no' didn't you understand?"

"The irrational part."

"I'm not going to play Sarah, and
that's final!" She spun on her heel and marched back inside, seething.

Kenzie followed. "It's chilly. I'll
light the fire."

"Don't bother for my sake. I'm
going to bed." She rinsed out her wineglass and set it to drain, then
rubbed her arms, shaking from cold.

Wood was already laid in the round
pueblo-style fireplace, so Kenzie had only to set a match to the
paraffin-saturated fire starter. As the first flares flickered upward, he asked
quietly, "What about Sarah bothers you so much?"

Why did she hate the idea so much? Sarah
was a good character who grew from a sheltered innocent to a strong, nurturing
woman. When Rainey wrote the screenplay, she'd sweated blood to capture the
nuances of Sherbourne's heroine, and thought she'd succeeded pretty well.
"I ... I think it's because Sarah is so incredibly innocent and naive. I
can't identify with her. Even at six years old, I wasn't that innocent."

He sat back on his heels, watching the
growing flames. "That innocence is the source of her strength. It doesn't
occur to her to leave Randall, even though he's an emotional basket case when
they marry."

"The nice thing about fictional
innocence is that the writer can turn it into a virtue instead of the weakness
it is in real life."

"You're certainly no sheltered
Victorian virgin, and every time we take on a role that's radically different
from what we are, it's like jumping off a cliff." He gestured toward the
sliding doors and the vastness beyond. "But the roles that make us grow, and
produce the finest acting, are exactly the ones that are most frightening.
Though Sarah's innocence might make you feel uncomfortably vulnerable, you're
quite capable of playing her, and doing it well."