She nodded and hesitated. “I don’t suppose you can find ice here?”
The cowboy lowered his head after staring at Becky’s sprained ankle. “I didn’t mean to shove her that hard…” His voice trailed off.
Becky shook her head. “It’s not your fault. You know it.”
“Can you hop? For a short distance?” Mark offered, feeling bad for being so inattentive. “We’re going over to that room.”
“Think so.” Yet she seemed less than certain. She looked around her nervously, as though she might find something as a support.
Mark held out his arm.
She took it shyly, balancing herself, and then stood upright.
The others moved onward, leaving Mark to steady Becky, who hopped on one foot as she made her way slowly toward the doorway.