Commitment

Part 7

Gray did his best to avoid her after that stupid kiss. Regan despite her best efforts never managed to get him on his own. And when he was in company he was his usual reserved, gruff, sombre self. But, after that one kiss, Regan knew that was not the man he really was. No one could kiss with the tenderness he showed if he was that icy. She wanted to speak to him on his own, but he was skilled at avoiding her and seemed to take an enormous amount of pride in the fact that he had stalled all her attempts to build a friendship.

Regan however was nothing if not determined. When she set her mind to something she tended to ensure she gave it her best shot. So, despite his responses, she smiled at him, she talked at him and she attempted to tease him, despite his companions. He remained aloof and he ignored her completely. At dinner with the family she tried to engage him in a conversation and he simply pretended not to hear her. Part of the discussion at the table, she tried to draw him into everyday talk about the farm, or about local events, but he remained unfriendly and distant. She initiated conversations about topics that might be fascinating for him. He ignored her signals. She was sure if she was a wood fence pole, he might pay more attention to her.

She was about to give up. But two weeks later, when she'd returned from a late home call, she arrived to find Gray waiting for her in the kitchen. She was tired. It had been a long day. A long, draining day. She was too tired to fix herself something to eat, but she decided she could manage a hot chocolate. So she'd headed for the kitchen. And found him there. Alone. It was half nine.

Gray looked at her, took note of the conservative, expensive clothes and did his best not to glare at the woman standing in front of him. This was the reason he didn't like her, and what she stood for. Personal gain, that's all she was interested in. Her wealth. That's what irritated him. She had money. Just look at what she was wearing. Those clothes were not department store stuff, it didn't come from the rail. Designer clothes. Yet she had let this place fall apart. It was absolutely criminal. The farm was practically a wreck when he arrived. Lots of debris, shambles, even the shell was ridden with devastation. The barn was huge, but its walls were full of holes. Machines with corrosion. The farm had animals, mainly mice.

The house was huge, six bedrooms, two studies, a sitting room, a lounge, a rumpus room, a dining room, a formal dining room, four bathrooms and a large kitchen dining room. Yet while she looked like a million dollars, the house looked tired, old, and in need of a cash injection to fix a myriad of problems. And it reflected the state of the rest of the farm. She took no notice of anything other than herself, given all her money seemed to be spent on her attire.

When he looked at her he could see exactly where the money went. What she wore was really expensive. You could tell from the cut, from the quality of the material, it was designer wear. She spent the money on her not on her home or farm. Selfish, he thought as he continued to appraise her. He hated himself for the fact that despite his negative appraisal, despite the fact that he found her shallow and vapid, his body was attracted and no matter how hard he had tried he had yet to forget that kiss. One stupid kiss. He was keenly aware of her. Aware of her scent. Aware of her as a woman. His mind was telling him one thing and his heart another, the problem was that there was no overlap.

She smiled warmly at him as she came into the kitchen. So, perhaps this evening was it, her chance to speak to him on his own. See if that spark was still there. Find out what that kiss was about. Yes, it had been a long time ago, but it had stayed fresh in her mind. She had relived it, over and over, in her dreams over the last couple of weeks, except, it hadn't stopped at that brief touch, it had escalated. And she hoped that what she was experiencing in her dreams would turn out to be reality.

"We need to talk." He told her bluntly when she walked past him toward the pantry. Regan had noticed that of the three members in his family, he was the one that said the least. But at least he had initiated the conversation this time. He, the man of few words, wanted to talk. He said that! Miracles do happen to her.

She nearly smiled. He wanted to talk! To her! Finally. She hid her smile. Guess the last two weeks were finally going to pay off.

"Good evening, Gray."

Regan had often found herself comparing the three members of his family, given how different they were in temperament. Loretta always bubbled along, her conversation typical of most young women her age. Sam, though quiet was more genial and laconic. His grandson, Gray was at best sombre and at worst, surly. But for some inexplicable reason she felt something for him. He rarely initiated a conversation, appeared to be avoiding her and spent most of his time out working. And he was a hard worker.

What he had done on the farm was amazing given the little resource available both in terms of labour and in terms of finance and given the fact that he limped. Yet, even Regan could see that the farm looked more like it had when her grandparents had lived. He clearly knew what he was doing and was doing it well. The man was really good. Regan planned to thank Jenny at some point, for the man really was working wonders with the farm. And was working the wonders on a pittance.

"Good evening." He stifled his urge to roll his eyes. "We need to talk." He repeated.

In the meantime she was not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. He wanted to talk. She was happy to talk.

"About?" She reached for the hot chocolate. "Would you like a hot chocolate? I'm going to make one for me." Might as well make this a social event, talking over a hot chocolate would be just that little bit nicer than just talking! Almost like a date! Well, probably not, she thought as she smiled inside.

Regan had tried on numerous occasions to include him in dialogue. Often she got one-word answers. But she noticed that when it had something to do with his sister or grandfather he was very protective. Over the first few weeks, when they'd just moved in, she had thought that he could do with a little lightness in his life. He seemed to be very insular, very remote and generally gruff. He was rude, usually because he didn't bother with pleasantries, and he was brusque, as if giving someone the time of day was a huge challenge. But something in him called to something in her. She wanted to ease some of those frown lines, and inject a bit of happiness into those sad, dark eyes. Starting with hot chocolate might sound flippant, but she figured she was holding out a cup of friendship.

Gray scowled. "No." Adding as an after thought, "Thanks." But his frown remained on his face.

She smiled to herself as his reluctant thanks registered. Obviously this was not a date, not even vaguely a date. She rubbed her forehead with a finger and then sighed. Time to get real. She spooned some of the powder into a mug, and headed for the fridge. "So what do you want to talk about?" She retrieved the milk, uncapped the four-litre bottle, smiling wryly as she thought about how everything had scaled up.

The deal was that they worked the farm, she paid them him a wage and she fed and housed the three of them. And that was proving to be expensive. She had one salary, her salary on which four adults were currently living. They had to buy more, because they got through more. Even the basics were bulk bought now. Where a pint of milk used to last her for several days, now it was gone in practically one morning. The utility bills were bigger than normal, because simple things like lights were on in different rooms. The little things were adding up, and she needed to find a way to make it stretch. Because, at this rate, she would not be able to feed them or her. She nearly smiled, not feed them or her, she could not even pay for water at this rate!

"We need accommodation for the shearers." He stated bluntly, watched her face and wondered about the smile that hovered on her lips.

Well, that wasn't what she had expected to hear. Shearers? Regan blinked. "What shearers?" Bemused Regan took a seat with little evidence of grace, and trying desperately not to show just how tired she was at this moment in time. She was working all the hours she could wangle. Taking locums and extra shifts just to generate a wage to pay him and have enough to put food on the table. It was starting to take its toll. But just because she was tired did not mean she was going to turn away from this opportunity to talk with him.

He folded his arms, and glared at her. She ignored that. Obviously this was not going to be a nice conversation, given the message in his eyes.

Gray all but growled, "You have heard about shearers? You know, the people who ..."

"Yes, Gray!" She said on a sigh. "I know what shearers do." How she felt, how tired she was, showed up in her eyes and also in that statement. But he ignored that. So much for having a nice social conversation, thought Regan.