Free The Spiral Path by Mary Jo Putney Page B

should have said that first. How can I turn down such an
offer?" Val raised her wineglass and clinked it against Rainey's.
"Here's to the movie that will change your career, and maybe mine,
too."
    "I'll
drink to that." Rainey swallowed a mouthful of wine, feeling happier than
she had all day. The prospect of directing Centurion had just become a
little more manageable.

----
    ACT II

    Cameras Rolling
    ----

----
    CHAPTER 7

    O ne of the
worst parts of moviemaking was the insanely early hours required. Kenzie
yawned, then swallowed another mouthful of scorching coffee. John Randall and
his native cavalry rode at dawn.
    All
around him, the chilly New Mexican night reverberated with the sounds of
recalcitrant horses and tense riders trying to position themselves to the
assistant director's satisfaction. Luckily his own mount was a placid beast,
specially chosen so as not to risk breaking The Star's neck.
    Rainey,
who was buzzing around like a wasp at a picnic, materialized in front of him.
Dressed in jeans and the official Centurion show jacket, which was a
shade of British military red that had not been chosen to go with her hair, she
radiated a mixture of excitement and nerves. "Ready to go, Kenzie?"
    He
nodded. "It's nice that my first scene doesn't require me to say a word. I
can ease my way into the part." Rainey wore no makeup except for a little
lipstick and mascara. The result was very close to the natural bedroom look
he'd always liked best. Not the face of the glamorous actress, but his wife.
    The
divorce would be final a week or so after they finished shooting her movie.
    She
looked anxiously upward. "I hope those clouds don't move in. This is the
first morning since we arrived with a decent sky."
    She
was poised to dart away when he caught her shoulder. Awareness crackled between
them like static electricity. "Relax, Rainey. You've got a great crew and
everything that needs to be done is being done. Fussing will just put everyone
on edge and increase the chance of mistakes. Have some coffee."
    "More
caffeine is hardly likely to make me relax." Nonetheless, she drank
deeply. They both liked coffee the same way--scalding hot, milk only.
"Thanks."
    She
glanced up, and for an instant they were caught in one of the unsettling
flashes of intimacy that persisted even though the marriage was over. He was
grateful to have the moment interrupted when Josh, his sharp-eyed assistant,
rushed up with fresh coffee. Taking the cup, he asked, "Why did you choose
this area to stand in for North Africa?"
    "Mostly
because it fit my budget I had some license because the military campaign in
Sherbourne's novel is imaginary, though it was inspired by a real campaign in
the Sudan that involved angry Arabs who wanted to drive out the Europeans. One
of Queen Victoria's messier little wars."
    "The
one where the noble General Gordon died at Khartoum a mere two days before a
relief army arrived, I presume? One of the famous Victorian military
martyrdoms, though I seem to recall that an officer who knew Gordon said the
man wasn't worth the camels lost in the rescue attempt."
    "I
never cease to be amazed at your memory. Sherbourne's novel specified a remote,
desolate setting, and this canyon fits the bill." She gestured at the
stark landscape. "I also needed dozens of good riders for the skirmishing
between Randall's patrol and the rebels, and it's easy to hire them around
here. Since they all wear scarves wrapped around their faces, we don't need
real Arabs, just people who look like they were born in the saddle."
    "You
got your money's worth. The dailies I saw yesterday are first-rate. Plenty of
fierce, chaotic action. When it's cut together, viewers will feel like they're
in the middle of the battle. My stunt double did a good job of going down
fighting bravely."
    "At
this stage of the story, John Randall has the courage of the
unimaginative." She checked the lightening sky again. "Almost time.
Make sure you don't fall off your horse. We might