Commitment

Part 5

"Oh, I erhm, thought erhm, that you'd erhm make that decision." Regan hedged. She didn't have a clue, not about the practical side of farming. Of course she hoped to learn, but she figured by the time she'd straightened out the farm's finances, got herself back into the black and was on a level field, she'd have learnt about farming. That and not having the cash meant that she hadn't thought about it much. It was something in her five year plan, not her plan for now. From her position the idea of stocking her farm was a long way off. But that was before she had taken on 'help'.

"No surprise there." Came the caustic reply. He waited. She took another sip. His eye brows slammed together. She was deliberately baiting him, he was sure of it. Wasting his time. Keeping him hanging on. For her decision. She seemed to have no substance. But she seemed to have haughty down to a t. Supercilious, condescending diva, he thought but kept his thoughts to himself. His tone now matched his eyes. Ice cold. "So what do you want to do?" Come here was his salvation, he knew that. He put his frustration, his energy and his skills into turning this farm around. His recent history was banked while he worked at the farm. Because he loved working at the farm. He knew what was required, he had the skills, and seeing the farm's progress was a balm to his recent physical and mental injuries. It was obvious that the farm was ready. The only problem was the person with the money was not ready. 

Regan almost gulped. This really wasn't going too well. He seemed to be getting more an more annoyed. Understandable, given the way she was prevaricating. But she was still dithering about whether to tell him the truth. She couldn't afford stock. "Well,.."

Without stopping to think he interrupted her, "We can always get some concrete models." He folded his arms, his eyes focused on her. The woman was an idiot, he thought as he watched his words seep through her mind.

"Concrete?" Her eyes narrowed in confusion. Why would they need concrete models? Yes, she knew that some towns have mascots, normally concrete mascots, to represent their product especially if people associate this town with that product. But her farm has no reputation. The farm would not need a mascot. Not at the moment! It would be a waste of time, to produce concrete models.

"Yes, concrete models, could even be colour! Just a few concrete models, built and dotted around." His eyes regarded her without a trace of amusement. The words were clipped and low.

"Concrete models?" Regan frowned as she lost his train of thought. Now what was he wanting? Concrete models? "Of what? What models?" Why would they want concrete models? Farms didn't have concrete models, did they? Was that some new strategy? Some new modern approach for PR? She frowned. "Why? Of what?" She repeated.

"Whatever suits you!" Gray nearly laughed when he watched her eyes.

"Me?" Her eyebrows practically touched her hairline as she blinked in astonishment.

"Yes, you." He jammed his hands into his pocket, because he was about to laugh at her. "This is your farm."

"Yes, I know..."

"Your decision. Cows or sheep? Your concrete models." He waited a beat, wondered if her brain was as slow as it appeared to be, for she hadn't figured out that he was being sarcastic.

"Concrete models?" She blinked, frowned again. "Of, er Cows?"

He quirked one eyebrow.

"Er Sheep?" She questioned with concern. "You want concrete models. On the farm?"

"No." He stated bluntly.

"You suggested concrete models!" She rolled her eyes and huffed.

"Yes." He tipped his head to side, his eyes met her eyes, and it was obvious to Regan that he was laughing inside.