The Devil Inside (8 page)

“Hey, Sam.” She turned to see a man in Wranglers and a button down pink shirt walking toward her. “Are you working today?”

She smiled at Mr. DeLong. “No, I’m off the rodeo rotation again.”

“That’s right, you’re taking care of Cody Shaw.” The rodeo chairman patted her on the shoulder. “Thank you for doing that. It was a big weight off my shoulders to know he was in good hands.”

She squirmed a little, uncomfortable with his praise. “It’s no big deal.”

“So how is he?” He checked his watch. “Dang, I need to be at the hospitality tent. Can you walk and talk?”

“Sure.” She fell into step with him as they crossed the dirt track again. “Cody’s doing much better now.”

“Glad to hear it.” He nodded at a competitor passing in front of them. Strangely enough, the rider was wearing pink as well.

Sam looked from Mr. DeLong to the rider and back again. “Pink?”

He tugged at the collar with a smile. “It’s Sunday,” he said, as if that explained everything. She must have looked blank, because he quickly added, “Tough Enough To Wear Pink day. It’s our breast cancer fundraiser thing.”

“Got it.” She tried to imagine her father wearing a pink shirt and failed miserably. Things had certainly changed since the last time she’d been at the rodeo.

Strangely, she didn’t have a problem picturing Cody in a pink shirt. Despite the feminine color, a pink western shirt teamed with a pair of body-hugging Wranglers and his Stetson would definitely work on him. He’d still look just as masculine, just as vital. She gave an involuntary shiver at the mental image.

They were almost to the hospitality tent, so she shook the distracting thoughts away. “I, uh, had a question for you.”

“Sure.” He stepped to the side of the tent opening, leaving room for others to enter and exit, and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s about Cody’s ride.”

Mr. DeLong shook his head. “Rough, wasn’t it?”

Sam nodded. “I know I haven’t been around the rodeo for a long time.”

“With good reason.” Mr. DeLong flashed her a sympathetic smile. “It must be hard for you to be here again. Especially since the first time back there was another accident.”

“I’m hanging in there.”

“Good.” He tipped his hat to the dark-haired man who’d just exited the tent, and waited for him to pass by before continuing. “So what did you want to know about Cody’s ride?”

“Right.” She took a deep breath. “As I said, it’s been a while since I was around the rodeo, but it looked like that bull was much more aggressive than any I remember from my dad’s days on the circuit.”

“Breeding has increased body weight and aggression over the past decade or so.”

“I’m sure that’s true. But I was looking on the internet and noticed that the Professional Bull Rider’s Association is starting to test for steroids, and I just wondered…”

“No.” Mr. DeLong cut her off with a sharp shake of the head. “Absolutely not.”

“The description of the symptoms looked accurate.”

“The Devil Inside was provided by the Anderson Stock Company. They’ve been our local supplier for generations. And Mr. Anderson is very much against the use of steroids in bulls.”

“I understand, but—”

“Sam.” He patted her hand. “I know this whole experience was hard on you, and I’m sure the impulse to find a reason that it happened is strong. But trust me when I tell you there is no way an Anderson bull was on steroids.”

Sam bit the inside of her cheek to keep from arguing. It was clear Mr. DeLong had his mind made up. “Well, thank you for your time,” she said finally.

“I know it’s not the answer you wanted to hear.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “And I appreciate your concern. But the best thing you could do is to put the accident out of your mind and focus on your patient’s continued recovery.”

“Yes, of course,” she murmured, stepping out of the way of the same dark-haired man entering the tent again. “Thank you.”

Mr. DeLong tipped his hat as she turned to go. As she reached the edge of the rodeo grounds, she looked back. He was just disappearing into the hospitality tent.

With a sigh, she shook her head and walked back to her car.

***

Her mother was sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine when she got home.

“How’s the patient?” Sam rolled the suitcase next to the kitchen and put the empty hat box on the counter. “Sleeping?”

“As far as I know.” Her mother tossed the magazine on the end table and stood, eyeing the luggage suspiciously. “Sam, are you sure about this?”

“We’ve been over this, Mom.” She dropped her keys next to the box. “And I really don’t want to go over it yet again.”

Her mother held up her hands. “Okay, okay. You’re a grown woman and can make your own mistakes. I just wish you could have learned from mine.”

Sam bit back a retort, knowing it would only escalate the argument. Right now, she just wanted peace and quiet, some time to think before Cody woke up again.

“Thanks for helping out, Mom,” she said as she opened the door. “I know you’re busy, so…”

“I can take a hint.” Her mother tucked her purse under her arm. “Good luck.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Sam kissed her mom on the cheek. “It’ll be fine. Honest.”

And as she closed the door, she wondered who she was lying to more—her mother, or herself.

He was sitting up against the headboard when Sam came into the room. “Good, you’re awake.”

“I’m getting a little tired of sleeping all day and all night,” Cody grumbled, knowing he was being less than gracious, but at this point not really caring.

She walked over to the bed and placed her wrist on his forehead, checking his temperature. Her touch was professional, detached, completely asexual.

And it gave him a hard-on that wouldn’t quit.

Luckily, she wasn’t looking at his crotch, so it wasn’t an issue at the moment.

But if she didn’t get her sweet-smelling hair and long-lashed eyes and soft, gentle hands away from him, it might become an issue pretty damn quickly.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he bent one leg, lifting the covers off his waist. She reached for the edge of the comforter and he flinched, subsiding only when it became clear that she was just trying to pull it up to cover him, not remove it.

“Are you doing okay?”

“I’m fine,” he said roughly, trying to will his erection away. “Trust me.”

She muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “that’ll be the day.”

He wasn’t going there. He was not.

Because he had a sneaking suspicion that he wouldn’t like the story behind that statement.

Instead, he closed his eyes and waited for her to finish so he could be alone with his thoughts again.

“You seem to be recovering well,” Sam said, moving away from the bed.

Cody cracked one eye open. “God, I hope so.”

She smiled. “Going a little stir crazy, are you?”

He nodded, glad that for once he hadn’t given himself a pounding headache with the gesture. “No offense.”

“Well, I have some good news for you.”

He opened the other eye. “You got my deposit back on the hotel room?”

“Oh. That reminds me.” She fished in her pocket and pulled out a dog-eared business card. “Mr.—” she squinted at the print, “—Gellert needs your verbal confirmation that you don’t need the room anymore. You’d better give him a call soon.”

He took the card from her and put it on the nightstand next to the phone. “Speaking of calls…”

She eyed him suspiciously.

“I called my mom while you were gone. Thought she’d like to hear how things were going. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, of course not.” She shook her head. “I should have suggested it earlier, or at least called her myself.”

“Don’t worry about it. She’d already heard about the accident. I think she just wanted to get the news directly from me so she could stop worrying. At least, not more than usual.”

Sam sat down on the mattress, her thigh almost touching his. “This must have just about killed her.”

“I don’t know. Twenty years of worrying about my dad toughened her up a little.” He smiled. “She was glad to hear I’m in good hands.”

Sam blushed at the compliment. “I’m just doing my job.”

They both knew it was a lie, but he let it go anyway.

“Did you run into trouble at the hotel? It took you a long time to get back.”

“Oh, I stopped by the rodeo on the way home, too. Mr. DeLong sends his best wishes.”

She’d stopped by the rodeo? After boycotting it—with good reason—for thirteen years?

But before he could say anything, she changed the subject again.

“And I have your stuff, too, so I’ll bring that in next. I just wanted to check on you and see how you were doing.”

“Thanks.” He leaned back. “So which of that was the good news?”

Her brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“You said you had good news. I mean, the idea of having clean clothes is pretty exciting right now, but…”

“Oh!” Clearing her throat, she said, “No, it’s something completely different. Dr. Miller is going to stop by tomorrow to see how you’re doing. If he approves, I think we’ll be able to help you switch venues.”

“I’ll be leaving?” Somehow, the news didn’t fill his heart with joy. Damned if he didn’t want to stick around for a while, at least until he figured out what was going on between him and his private nurse here.

“Oh, no.” She flashed him a quick smile. “You’re not escaping that easily.”

Funny, he felt like he’d escaped fate right then.

“I was thinking more on the lines of a lounge chair. Granted, my deck’s not huge, but the afternoon sun hits it just right.”

Just the thought of leaving this room, lounging under the hot sun, sitting upright…heaven.

She grinned at him. “Like that idea, do you? Well, let’s hope Dr. Miller agrees.”

“Until then, though, I’m in this bed.”

“Hey, don’t knock it. It’s a very nice bed.”

He didn’t say anything. He just looked at her.

She crossed her arms and looked away, muttering, “Well, it is.”

Before he could say anything else, the phone rang.

Sam answered it, grabbing the phone off the nightstand and clicking it on. “Hello?” She listened for a few moments. “Oh, hi, Mr. DeLong. Did you change your mind about…”

She shook her head. “Okay, thanks anyway.” A moment longer and she handed the phone over to Cody. “It’s for you,” she whispered.

“Hello?” He leaned back. “Thanks for calling, Mr. DeLong. No, I’m doing much better.”

He was so intent on his call that it barely registered when she slipped out of the room.

Chapter Eight

She waited until he’d hung up the phone before heading back into the bedroom.

“Here’s your stuff.” Sam hefted the duffel bag into the room, stowing it next to the dresser across the room.

“Thanks.”

Sam shrugged. “No big deal. I’ll be right back with the rest of it.”

She brought in his hat box and kit, then headed into the hall again. A moment later she was back, holding a canvas bag in one hand. “This was in your room, too. You might want to get it back to Kimberlee sometime before you leave town.” She dropped it on the bed and crossed her arms over her chest.

To her surprise, a dull flush crept up his cheekbones. “Thanks.”

“Her number’s in the duffel, bookmarking your novel.”

“Whose number?”

“Kimberlee.”

He stared at her blankly. “I don’t know a Kimberlee.”

“She left you a note.” At his continued confusion, she added, “Then the bag belongs to another of your…friends?”

He looked at the wall. “Uh…”

“Oh, my God.” Realization dawned. “That’s your bag, isn’t it?” Amusement warred with a relief she absolutely didn’t want to analyze.

“I think I’ll take the Fifth.”

She arched one brow. “Knitting?”

He flopped back on the pillows, groaning. “It’s official now. You know all my secrets. What do you want in return for your silence? Money? Jewels?”

“How about a nice scarf?”

Cody cracked one eye open. “Bitch.”

She started to laugh, pleased when he joined in after a moment. “Seriously, though. Knitting?”

“Hey, don’t knock it until you’ve tried it.”

“I have. Years ago. Don’t you remember?”

A slow smile warmed his expression. “Oh my God. I completely forgot about that.”

“My poor mother.”

“Hey, you tried.” He attempted to school his features, but it was a losing battle. “No wonder you want me to knit you a scarf. Yours was—”

“Uneven? Tangled? Pathetic?”

“I was going to say ‘unwearable’. But those work, too.”

“I had no patience for it.” She sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled out his knitting supplies, placing them on the comforter. “Too much sitting in one place. How do you stand it?”

He shrugged. “It’s actually not too bad when you’ve got nothing else to do. I’m not big on the bar scene, and the long hotel nights can be pretty boring.”

Boring hotel nights? Did that mean…

She shook away the thought. It was none of her business if he had a girl in every rodeo town.

Or not, as the case seemed to be.

“I have a hard time picturing it.” She glanced at him sideways. “You, sitting in your hotel room, knitting away.”

“Hey, I’m not the only guy who knits. George Clooney does, too.”

“Can’t picture that, either. I’m sorry.” She laughed. “Do you bring it to the competitions, too? Hang out by the chutes with your yarn?”

“Good God, no.”

“I suppose it’s not something you advertise.”

He rolled his eyes. “Not a chance.”

She ran her fingers over the yarn, a smile tugging at her lips. “I can keep a secret.”

“Yeah, I know you can.” All traces of humor were gone from his voice.

Her gaze flew to his face. “Cody?”

“I just had an interesting conversation with Mr. DeLong.”

She shook her head. “Clearly, he can't keep a secret.”

“He was concerned about you.”

“I had a few questions, and I asked him about them. He blew me off. End of story.”

“Is that what you were wondering about last night?”

“You have to admit, there are some warning signs.”