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Sara didn’t know what to say. She glanced at Dax, who sat in front of her on the edge of the coffee table. He didn’t speak, and his expression didn’t change.
In the corner of the room, Zeke hovered, his arms crossed. He didn’t look all too pleased. The only person who was missing was—
“Sarah. Do you realize how worried we were?” Sheriff Donahue stepped into view.
“I guess the party’s all here.”
“This isn’t a time for jokes, Sarah. You could have died out there. If Dax hadn’t found you when he did, you most definitely would have caught hypothermia.”
Someone knocked on the front door. Zeke left the room without a word. Why was it that when she’d nearly lost her life, they all managed to make her feel guilty about it? She wasn’t the one who’d leaped from the saddle. The horse had taken off all on its own.
She frowned and looked away from everyone.
Adeline entered from the kitchen holding a steaming cup of something. She placed it next to Dax on the coffee table and then turned to the group. “Okay, everyone. Let’s give Sarah some space. The doctor just got here. She doesn’t need an audience.”
Sarah gave her a look of relief as everyone in the room got to their feet and headed for the door. Everyone except Dax.
He remained perched on the coffee table. In fact, he’d shifted so he could rest his forearms on his knees.
“Aren’t you going to get cleaned up?” Sarah’s eyes darted to meet his, then away.
He shook his head slowly.
She tried not to get riled up. She really did. But it had been a terrible two weeks. No matter how much good she’d tried to do, there was always someone who told her she wasn’t doing enough. Or they looked at her like she was some idiot.
Her heart rate accelerated. “If you’re going to stay just so you can—”
“I’m staying because I want to hear for myself what happened.”
Sarah scrunched her face. “Why do you care?”
“Does it matter? Can’t I just be a good guy who doesn’t want to see someone hurt?”
She closed her mouth. He made a good point. But it was hard to see that in the guy who only seemed to smile at her when he was laughing at her expense.
The closer she looked at him, the more she believed him. The worry was written in every line of his face. His cheek twitched as his eyes swept over her. He clenched and relaxed his hands before shaking them out and starting over. Dax was on edge, and he was filling the room with his own brand of tension.
Sarah tore her attention away from him just as the doctor arrived with Zeke and the sheriff on his heels. She attempted to toss the blanket aside, ready to escape from this room and the men who were controlling her life. “I’m fine. I’m feeling better, I promise.” She rose to her feet, then wobbled and had to reach out to catch herself on the couch.
“Sitdown, Sarah.”
She had expected the sharp command to come from the sheriff or even Zeke, but it had come from the man in front of her. Slowly, she lowered herself onto the cushion and pulled the blanket over her once more.
The doctor came closer, and Dax moved from the coffee table to the seat beside her. Her heart fluttered as if responding to his closeness. But she’d been close to him before and hadn’t reacted likethis. She shivered and rubbed her arms up and down.
“Sarah, can you tell me what happened?” Dr. Henry was younger than she’d expected for a doctor. He couldn’t be more than thirty. He smiled warmly at her as he lifted a flashlight and shined it into her eyes. Right, left, and right again. He frowned and made a soft sound that didn’t seem very good.
Sarah glanced to Dax, who suddenly felt all too close. “I was riding out on the trails and my horse took off too fast. I lost my balance and fell. That’s all.”
Dr. Henry moved closer to her. “May I examine your head?”
She nodded slowly so the room wouldn’t spin.
He moved his deft fingers around her head, lightly searching for something. She sucked in a sharp breath when he reached the back of her skull. He pulled his hand back and frowned. “It appears you’re bleeding.”
A gasp tore from her throat and her hand moved carefully to touch where she’d been injured. “Will I need stitches?”
The doctor had already moved around the back of the couch and was looking at the injury. “You’re not bleeding a lot. We could probably get away with a little glue. Youdohave a mild concussion. Between the vomiting and your dilated eyes, I suggest you remain supervised so we can keep tabs on your symptoms overnight.”
