Page 37 of Making a Cowgirl
She didn’t answer right away. It was as if she didn’t trust why he might be asking this question. Dax nearly repeated the question, but she finally spoke up. “I used to think I wanted to go into finance. I took a lot of classes in college for that. But now I’m not so sure.”
“What changed your mind?”
A ghost of a smile lit her face. “Honestly? I’ve sorta liked working here.”
Surprise hit him over the head. “You’re kidding.”
“I know, right?” Sarah laughed. “You’d think with those crazy chickens and the whole being thrown from a horse thing that I would want to get out of here right away.”
“You don’t?”
She shrugged. “I mean, sure. I can’t wait to be done. But I think part of me would miss this place.” Her eyes landed on him, then darted away just as fast.
“What would your parents think? What about your uncle?”
The smile left her face again. Shoot. Why did he have to ask the wrong kinds of questions? He should have known better than to bring up her parents. Even the sheriff seemed to have a strained relationship with her.
“You don’t have to answer that if you—”
“It’s fine.” She let her focus drift over the landscape as they lumbered along the trail. “I think my uncle wouldn’t mind. Honestly, I think he loves it out here so much he would be impressed if I decided to make something of myself—you know, by doing honest work.” She shook her head and shot him a wry smile. “But my parents? Oh, they’d be livid.” She let out a sad sort of smile. The kind that sliced through his heart and tugged at his insides. “My parents would probably cut me off.”
Sarah’s hand clapped over her mouth and she glanced at him.
Her reaction was strange, to say the least. It was as if she’d said something that would give away too much information. And just like that his curiosity was piqued once more. If her criminal background wasn’t what she was scared of revealing, then what was it about her family that she wanted to keep secret?
No. He wasn’t going to go down that road again. They were just making headway and he wanted to get to know the real her.
But if you don’t know what she’s hiding, how can you really know the real her?
His subconscious made a good point.
Nope. Nope. Nope.
If he wanted to know more about Sarah, she’d have to tell him on her terms. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t feel comfortable saying.”
“Why are you being so nice to me?”
Hadn’t she asked him that question before? He couldn’t remember. It didn’t really matter. The answer would have been the same regardless. “Because everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves. And I like you.”
The words slipped from his lips before he could contain them. He didn’t mean he liked her in aromanticsort of way.
Did he?
Brielle would have told him he was in complete denial.
And lately the evidence seemed to agree with her. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Sarah’s gaze. Doing so would be a disaster. If she had a smug look on her face—if she was making fun of him, that would be a hit to his ego.
But what if she was considering what he’d said, contemplating whether he was worth the risk?
Well, he wouldn’t risk it. Not yet. Not until he figured out what it was that she meant to him.
It was all his fault, really. The entire ride back to the barn, the silence continued to grow between them. Even the birds seemed to hold their breaths to see what big mistake he’d make next. But with each passing step, the feeling that he was doing something wrong persisted. He needed to take action if he thought there was a possibility of something more.
The concept was laughable until it wasn’t. He’d spent the better part of six weeks with this woman, and while their relationship had been strained in the beginning, they’d found a good place to settle.
So why was he so keen on messing it up? She’d be leaving in a few months. Starting anything would most definitely end in disaster.
Dax climbed down from his position until his boots hit the ground, displacing dirt and dust. He led his horse toward the stable, his thoughts battling in a cacophony of wills. Sarah continued riding until they made it to the stalls where they’d brush down their horses.