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The thought gave him pause.
Why was he so invested in helping her?
It took a great deal more effort to shove aside that question when all he wanted was to scrutinize it. Right now, he needed to get Sarah back to her room and force her to rest. He had some personal days saved up and something inside him innately knew if he didn’t guard her room, she’d just end up outside passed out again.
Brielle was the one who opened the back door when he pounded on it with the toe of his boot. Her eyes grew wide and she gasped. “Is she okay? Should I call the doctor?”
“I think she’ll be fine, but contact Dr. Henry just in case. She’s probably just dehydrated and still trying to heal from her fall.” Dax turned sideways to get past Brielle and head straight for the stairs. She followed, nipping at his heels. “Is there anything else I can do?”
“You can get her some water and maybe some aspirin. I bet you anything her head is pounding like she’s been hit by a bus.” The truth wasn’t far off.
Brielle nodded and rushed away.
He was able to get her placed on her bed and covered with a light knit blanket fairly easily. Dax stared down at her with her long dark, wavy hair splayed on the pillow and her eyes closed. Her lashes brushed lightly against her still pale cheeks. Thankfully, her breathing had returned to a normal rate. A strand of her dark curly hair had managed to fall on her cheek.
With deft fingers, he grasped it between his finger and thumb and moved it out of the way. Her features were relaxed into a peaceful expression, and it became almost difficult to tear his eyes away from her.
Everything she’d been spouting off just before she lost control stuck in his mind. Whatever it was had been bad enough that she’d been incredibly worked up over it. Who had Zeke hired? Better yet, why was the sheriff hiding it from the town?
Sarah’s lashes fluttered and a soft moan escaped her lips. He took a step back. The last thing either of them needed was for her to get riled up again. Almost immediately, her gaze swung to meet his.
She started to sit up and he lunged forward, pressing on her shoulder to force her to lie down. “Like I was trying to tell you, you should be resting.”
Sarah scowled, attempting to sit up again. “I fell off ahorse, Dax. I’m not an invalid.”
He gave her a dark look. “Do you know how many people die from that sort of thing?”
“Doyou?” Her flippant remark escaped her lips with a sharp edge.
Dax lifted a brow and a smile stole across his face. There was her spunk and fire—the thing that had given him a mild amount of entertainment when she’d been chased by those chickens.
“What are you smiling at?” Sarah scooted back against the headboard and folded her arms. She eyed him with distrust. He could see so much of himself in those eyes. The suspicion, the inflexibility.
Dax moved a few steps back and sat on the edge of Brielle’s bed. He rested his forearms on his knees and ducked his head, letting out a sigh. “When we were on our walk…” He peeked at her, noting the way she immediately stiffened. “You were about to tell me something.”
Her brows pulled together and she shook her head. “I don’t think so.”
“If you don’t want to tell me, that’s fine. I get it.” He lifted his face so their eyes could meet. For the first time she saw some semblance of vulnerability.
She glanced away and tucked that stubborn piece of hair behind her ear. “I don’t.”
Slowly, he shook his head.
The difference in her body language was like night and day. She took a deep breath and released it, then let her head rest against the headboard.
If he tried, he could probably piece together what she’d mentioned before she’d lost consciousness. She was here for a certain amount of time. She had to work a certain number of hours. That could mean anything from a probationary requirement to strict parents.
He straightened so suddenly that she stiffened, turning wide eyes on him.
“We haven’t called your parents yet.”
If he thought she was pale before, he was mistaken. The pallor of her skin worsened. “What?”
“Your parents. We need to notify them of your injury. Have you had a chance to call them yet?”
She was terrible at hiding the anxiety his words caused her. But she was even worse at lying. “Yes,” she muttered. From the lack of color on her face to the way she clutched the covers beside her, there was no way she had contacted them.
His eyes narrowed. He took a step toward her with the intention of getting to the bottom of this whole thing when Brielle burst into the room with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin.
