Phoenix Falling (14 page)

As they moved among the outbuildings, Kenzie spotted a small satellite dish. Grady said, "The kids chipped in to buy us that for our forty-fifth anniversary. Authentic means satellite dishes and four-wheel drive, not livin' in a museum."

"I should think a museum would be boring." Cibola wasn't—it was a living entity, well-cared for despite signs that money was in short supply. The adobe buildings looked as if they'd grown from the soil and had the spare, pure elegance of function and simplicity. Kenzie studied everything, an idea tickling the back of his mind.

The small, postcard-perfect lake was only a five-minute walk away. When they reached it, Grady said, "Alma wasn't kiddin' about the double-wide trailer. When we find a buyer, I might ask if he'd sell us a lot so we can put a little place here on the lake. More private than Chama. Shouldn't think a new owner would want the old ones around, though."

"None of your children want to take over the ranch?"

"Not a rancher in the lot, but we're proud of 'em." Grady gave a fleeting smile. "A teacher, an air force pilot, and a nurse. Do you have children?"

"No." Kenzie softened the edge in his voice. "No children, and once the courts finish their business, no wife."

Grady gave a sympathetic nod. "There's all kinds of hard luck."

When they returned to the house, Grady sent his guest inside while he took care of some chores. Kenzie saw when he entered Alma's kitchen that she hadn't exaggerated about the work that was needed. Though immaculately clean, the appliances were old and rickety, the sink marred by permanent stains, and the cabinets cheap and inadequate.

Yet that hardly mattered, for the kitchen had the warmth of a mother's smile. The irregular beams in the ceiling had been shaped by hand, and the quarry tile floor was softened by Indian rugs whose colors were muted with age and honest wear.

He held his hands to the rounded adobe oven built in a corner, feeling the warmth of whatever was baking inside. "I've been in Southwestern-style houses in California, but they're only pale imitations of this. Would it be too forward of me to ask for a tour?'

"I'd be happy to show you around." When he smiled, she added, "Better watch that smile, Mr. Scott. Anyone ever say you're too handsome for your own good?"

"Frequently," he said with great dryness.

Chuckling, she showed him through the adobe. High ceilings and spacious rooms that had been designed to keep the house cool in summer gave the structure an airy feel.

He liked the serenity of the white stucco walls and mellow pine floors, and the warm promise of the massive living room fireplace. The windows in the room looked across the valley and showed the sun sliding behind stark mountain peaks. He paused to admire the blazing colors. "Does it snow much here?"

"Some, but usually we don't get a lot. We're at the perfect elevation—high enough not to scorch in summer, low enough not to be buried with snow in winter."

The bathroom was as primitive as the kitchen, but like the bedrooms, it was generously sized. The smallest of the four bedrooms had been converted to a computer room. "E-mail sure is handy for keeping in touch with the kids and grand-kids," Alma said. "When we first came here, Cibola seemed like the end of the world, but not now."

"How do you feel about moving?"

Instead of telling him to mind his own business, she shrugged. "This house is too big now the kids are gone, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it'll be hard to leave. No use complaining about what can't be helped, though." Briskly she turned back to the kitchen. "This is my favorite part of the house."

She opened a back door and stepped into a small garden surrounded by high adobe walls. Stone paths wound between vibrant flowers and shrubs, while in one corner vines were trained over an arbor to shade a table and chairs.

Kenzie caught his breath. "A secret garden."

"Like the movie? I watched that with my grandkids. This garden is walled to keep the wild pigs from eating my herbs and flowers."

"You've made the practical into a thing of beauty." He touched the ripening sphere of a tomato. A tabby cat poked her head out from under a shrubby rosemary bush, surveyed Kenzie thoughtfully, then began washing one of several plump, furry kittens. Above the walls, craggy mountains floated majestically. What would it be like to live amidst such peace?

Dinner was classic Southwestern fare, with com tortillas, beans, rice, and salad. It was also sensational, though if the peppers had been any hotter, Kenzie would have been in trouble. After washing down the last bite with coffee, he asked, "Is New Mexican cuisine different from other regions, or is this so good because of the cook?"

"Both." Grady smiled fondly at his wife. "New Mexican food is better than Texas or Arizona to begin with, and nobody makes it better than Alma."

Placidly she topped off everyone's coffee. "He learned early that the best way to eat well was to flatter me shamelessly."

Kenzie laughed, feeling as if the Gradys were old friends. He hoped their children appreciated how lucky they had been to be raised in this place, by these people. "You're serious about selling?"

"Dead serious," Grady replied, his light mood vanishing. "I'm calling a real estate agent this week."

Kenzie hesitated for an instant, checking to see if he was really sure about this. He was. "I want to buy Cibola."

Absolute silence. The Gradys stared at him.

"Since I travel a great deal, I don't know how much time I'll be able to spend here," he continued. "So I'd like to work out an agreement with you. In return for my building you a house on the lake, will you stay on and watch over the place?"

Alma clunked her coffee cup onto the table. "Are you
serious
?"

"Completely."

Alma's eyes widened with shock. "You're Kenzie Scott, the actor! I knew you looked familiar, but it never occurred to me a big Hollywood star could just wander in!"

"I'm shooting a movie about twenty miles away." He looked down at the beautifully woven old Indian rug, knowing he must reveal something of his private self in return for their honesty. "I have a home I love on the Pacific, but in Southern California one is always aware there are millions of people nearby. Cibola has the serenity of solitude. Since you're planning to sell, maybe... maybe it was meant for us to meet."

"Do you have half a dozen homes all over the world?" Alma asked.

"Not half a dozen. Just the California house, which I'd keep because of the amount of time I have to spend in Los Angeles, plus an apartment in New York."

Overcoming his initial shock, Grady said, "The place on the lake—would you put us out if you decided you wanted a new caretaker?"

Kenzie thought a moment. "You would own the house and the land it's on, but we'd need an agreement that I'd have the right of first refusal at a fair market price if you ever decided to sell. I wouldn't want strangers there."

Eyes sparkling, Alma said, "So I get my double-wide trailer!"

"Actually, I was thinking of one of those prefabricated redwood homes with a nice deck." Kenzie smiled. "Since I'll be looking at it, I want the place to be attractive."

Alma and her husband looked at each other, and she gave a faint nod. Grady offered his hand to Kenzie. "If you're not a raving lunatic, you've got yourself a deal."

* * *

After an hour of working out details, Kenzie headed back to the hotel. In the morning he'd call his business manager and put the legal wheels in motion, but that handshake was the real contract.

Money could make things happen very quickly, and he wanted to be able to come here to reknit his raveled nerves when he finished shooting
The Centurion
. A prefab house wouldn't be quite as easy as a double-wide trailer, but it would still be fast, and the Gradys could choose a house that appealed to them.

Alma had happily agreed to do light housekeeping and some cooking when he was in residence. He suspected she missed having a house full of children to care for.

Buying a ranch on impulse might seem eccentric, but he had no doubts at all. He looked forward to retreating to this place of tranquility whenever he wanted—and it would have no memories of Rainey.

Chapter 10

As nightfall obscured the spectacular New Mexican scenery, Val's eyes drifted shut. She hadn't gotten much sleep since agreeing to work on
The Centurion
.

She'd been on the verge of backing out daily, but kept returning to the fact that she needed a change. And maybe Rainey really needed her as well. In the meantime, if being picked up by a Lincoln town car in Albuquerque and carried to the door of her destination was typical of the movie business, Val could get used to it.

The movie was headquartered in a sprawling, lodge-style resort hotel in the middle of nowhere. A very upscale lodge, she saw when she checked in. Yes, she could get used to this.

The bellman was whisking her luggage away when Kenzie Scott walked in the front door and headed toward the front desk. Val struggled with an impulse to go over and deck him. Not that she'd be successful, unless maybe she stood on a chair for a better shot. Unlike many stars, Kenzie Scott was tall and strongly built, not pumped up like a bodybuilder, but with the overall fitness of a decathlete.

He was also surreally handsome, with perfect, ruggedly masculine features. Though she'd met him once when visiting Rainey, she'd forgotten the impact of his looks, which had to be seen to be believed.

But he'd made Rainey miserable, which deserved a decking in Val's book. Though as a lawyer she knew that every dispute had at least two sides, probably more, she turned off objectivity when her friends were involved. Especially when the friend in question was Rainey, who'd bailed Val out more than once.

Since Kenzie was the Big Star of this picture, Val would have to be polite to him, but she'd save that for the next day, when she'd had a good night's rest. Quietly she carried her hand luggage to the elevator so she'd be gone by the time he finished his business at the front desk.

The elevator doors had almost closed when they suddenly snapped open and Kenzie Scott stepped in. Val withdrew to a corner as he glanced at the control panel. There were only four floors and apparently they were both going to the fourth. His gaze touched her absently.

Then, dammit, he said, "You're Rainey's friend Val, aren't you?"

She nodded. "I just got in." Irritated by his lighthearted expression, she added, "I suppose you've been out tomcatting around."

The sound of her words appalled her. She hadn't even started work, and she'd just gotten herself fired by breaking the first rule of moviemaking, which was that The Star was never, never to be annoyed.

Kenzie looked startled instead of angry. "Actually, no. I did see a cat, but even though it was female, I had no designs on its virtue."

Flushing, Val said, "I'm sorry. I had no business saying any such thing."

"Probably not, but you're Rainey's friend. It would be odd if you weren't partisan." The elevator glided to a stop. He stepped back politely so she could exit first.

Wishing she could sink through the floor, Val stepped out, then had to pause to figure out which direction her room was. Behind her, Kenzie said, "Do you need help with your bag? It appears to have a rock collection inside."

Why did he have to have that wonderful British voice? She pivoted and started down the left-hand corridor. "I'm fine, thanks. I'm used to hauling heavy loads around."

"And wouldn't accept my help if I were offering free water in Death Valley." He fell into step beside her.

She smiled reluctantly. "Probably not. I'm famously stubborn. But I'll do my best to be polite." Reaching her room, she slid the card key into the slot. "Good night, Mr. Scott."

"Kenzie." He smiled. "I always envied Rainey her friends. Good night, Val."

Wishing she hadn't seen that smile, she darted into her room as he continued down the corridor. His charm could melt asphalt shingles off a roof. And those green eyes!

No wonder Rainey had married him against her better judgment. Of course that easy charm, lavishly spread around, had been the problem, but it was hard to dislike him in the flesh as much as Val did in the abstract. Which was just as well, since they'd be working together.