Cord glared at Ryder’s back as he exited. Samantha stepped into the room and was now hovering at the side edge of his bed. The concerned look was still there, but so was a frown of suspicion. Cord knew he had about five seconds to get her out of here before she learned the truth. He’d seen her in action with the horse—she wasn’t about to leave someone she thought was in pain. But he tried anyway. “Samantha, thanks for the help, but I’d like to have a few minutes to clean up. So if you could just leave that stuff and go, I’d appreciateit.”
“Look, I had tons of training in first aid. I can helpyou.”
“The only thing I need is some alone time,” he managed to bite out. The spasm was rolling, building like a dam roller coaster. It had not reached its peak yet, but it would soon. It was all he could do not to rub thecramp.
Gently, she set the items in her hands at the foot of his bed and then perched on the edge of his mattress. She didn’t touch him, but from the way she looked at him, he felt like she was touching his soul. “I’m not leaving until I know you’reokay.”
Ryder appeared in the door, holding up the black muscle roller pin with triumph. In his other hand, he had Cord’s black duffel bag. “Thought I’d bring your crap in too. You know, since I’m being such a good helper andall.”
Cord looked at Ryder. Then he looked as Sam, his suspicion growing. “What am Imissing?”
Ryder dropped Cord’s duffel bag on the ground, tossed him the roller, which he caught midair, gave Cord a two-finger salute and turned and left the room, drawing the bedroom door shut behind him with two last words. “Goodluck.”
