The Spiral Path (61 page)

"Bless you, Marcus." After she
hung up, she closed her eyes and uttered a silent prayer of thanks. Maybe she
could honor her obligations to both the movie and Kenzie--if she could persuade
him to let Hollywood invade his sanctuary.

He
found the paving tiles in a corner of the toolshed when he returned the ax.
Eight inches square and made of an unglazed clay that matched the soil of
Cibola, they were exactly the look he wanted for his labyrinth. He was laying a
few of the pavers out on the ground when Rainey found him. He glanced up.
"What do you think?"

It took her a moment to recognize what
he had in mind. "For the labyrinth? Perfect. They must be made here in
northern New Mexico. In fact, these look as if they were left over from paving
the area under the arbor." She knelt and brushed her fingertips across the
reddish brown surface. "Callie Spears is good, but for something as
personal as a labyrinth, you should choose the materials yourself."

He agreed, as long as he didn't have to
leave the ranch to do it. "I'll ask Jim Grady where these pavers came from
so I can order more."

She looked up at him through tousled
apricot hair, biting her lower lip the way she did when she was going to say
something she wasn't sure he would like. "I talked to Marcus again."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of his
stomach, he wondered if she was going to tell him that she had to return to Los
Angeles right away. Lord knew he was the worst possible company, dour as an old
bear. She should leave--but he'd thought she'd be here for a week or so longer.

"When I told Marcus how much I
hated the idea of coming back to the smog and traffic, he suggested that I edit
the movie from here." Her words tumbled out in a rush. "It would
require a lot of computer equipment and a satellite link and probably another
phone line or two, but Eva and I can talk and watch the images on the screen at
the same time just as if we're in the cutting room together."

When he sat back on his heels, startled,
she began twisting a lock of hair around her index finger. "Would you mind
terribly if I stayed on and worked from here? I'll keep out of your way. You
wouldn't have to see any of what's going on. The equipment can be set up in the
bunkhouse."

When Rainey wasn't consciously acting,
she was transparent. "Are you suggesting this because you're afraid to
leave me alone?"

"That was the original
reason," she admitted, giving up on subtlety. "But I truly don't want
to go back to Tinseltown."

He frowned, torn. The last thing he
wanted was to have John Randall around again, and the sooner Rainey got back to
her real life, the better.

Yet if he was honest with himself, and
these days he seemed unable to be anything less, he would love to have her
near. She was the only one who understood why he was in such a state, and she
was wise enough to leave him alone. "The bunkhouse isn't air-conditioned.
It would be better to set up in the two empty bedrooms."

Her expression turned bright with
relief. "You wouldn't mind?"

"I sincerely hope I never have to
see a frame of that film again. But I do like having you around. Just ... don't
expect much from me."

"I won't ask much," she said
softly.

He looked into her marvelous, changeable
eyes, blue from the intensity of the New Mexican sky, and told himself that he
really had to call his lawyer and refile the divorce suit.

But not yet.

CHAPTER 36

S
uppressing
a yawn, Rainey said, "Time to break for lunch, Eva, and maybe a nap as
well. I can't imagine how professional editors keep up the pace. This is
grueling."

"We practice sitting still for
hours on end, and have the butts to prove it," Eva explained. "You
eat and take your nap. I'll call in a couple of hours, after I've had lunch and
worked up those three versions of the farewell scene for us to compare."

"Thanks. Talk to you then."
Rainey hung up, then stood and stretched. The long-distance editing was going
well, but it took one hundred ten percent concentration to study the images and
discuss the possibilities with Eva. Marcus had been right to insist that Rainey
stay involved every step of the way. As good as her film editor was, God was in
the details when it came to moviemaking, and editing was nothing but details.

She'd worked every day in the two weeks
since Marcus's techies had arrived and installed the equipment, then taught her
how to use it. Their presence hadn't disturbed Kenzie, because he'd saddled a
horse and ridden into the hills for the day to avoid them.

She wandered to the window and looked up
the hill. The labyrinth wasn't visible from the house, but she knew Kenzie
would be working away up there. He was as obsessive about his project as she
was about hers.

As soon as the computers were installed,
he'd found Internet instructions on how to design and build a labyrinth. He'd
leveled the ground, then laid out the concentric circles with powdered chalk.
Now he was painstakingly setting each tile in a bed of sand for stability,
teaching himself how to do it as he went along.

Their lives hardly touched except once
or twice a day at meals. Kenzie was unfailingly polite, but they might have
been strangers living in the same boardinghouse rather than husband and wife.
Conversation never got beyond the superficial, if they talked at all. She did
as Marcus had suggested, playing cat, quiet and undemanding, hoping her
presence had a beneficial effect. And very frustrating it was, too.

Maybe he'd like a picnic lunch, since
otherwise he'd probably forget to eat. She packed a tote bag with food and
drink, then hiked up the hill.

Kenzie was on his knees setting pavers
in place, watched solemnly by Hambone. Both glanced up at her approach.

"Hi," she said cheerfully.
"I thought you might like some lunch."

"Thank you. That would be
nice." Kenzie stood, stretching the kinks from his muscles. He'd lost
weight, and there'd been no fat on him to begin with, but he looked healthy
enough otherwise, as long as his eyes were covered with sunglasses. He'd
acquired a beautiful tan and a beard several shades redder than his long dark
hair. Soon he'd be able to play a convincing mountain man without benefit of
makeup.

She hadn't been up here in several days,
and she was startled by the progress he'd made. The concentric circles that
doubled back and forth, twining their way to the center, were almost complete.
"You've worked fast. How long until you're done?"

"Later today or tomorrow
morning."

"What will you work on when this is
finished?"

"Landscaping, I think. Shifting
rocks around and planting tough native bushes will enhance the site." He
wiped his sweating face with a towel. His hands were grazed and bruised from
the manual labor, but still beautiful in their shape and strength.