Commitment

Part 9

"My image? Utter rubbish."

Gray wasn't sure whether to kiss her senseless or shake her when he saw the spark in her eyes. She glared. He quirked a brow, "Really?" Jammed his hands in his pockets and continued, "You are a pampered, self-absorbed, selfish, conceited, self-important, excuse of a woman." He vented and eventually ran out of steam.

Eventually she blinked. His words were still working through the fog in her brain. His statements had coalesced and instead of landing like individual darts they hit with the force of a sledgehammer.

He pushed back. With the space of a couple of feet between them, he blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair, trying to buy back a degree of control, "Why the hell are you keeping this place if you can't be bothered to look after it?"

She kept her mouth close. She was close to loosing it. She considered hitting him or blubbering.

"You have no idea about running a farm. You have spent all of your money on you, not on your farm. Why bother to keep it? " He glared at her with utter contempt as once again his anger at her inability to contribute to the farm surfaced. "If you want this farm to be successful, you need to bloody invest in it, right now. Bloody time and money! I'm putting in the time, you need to hand over the money!" He watched her face and added another statement, "And you should trust me with the bloody books for this farm!"

Well that was the longest conversation he'd ever had with her. Regan was tempted to thump him as she emerged from the fog created by the insults. Instead of following through on her thoughts she sighed, told herself to calm down and then wondered if the bank would consider another loan. He was right, she hadn't spend any money on the farm, because she didn't have the money! She was busy trying to settled debts, not her debts. But she wanted to keep the farm, because she associated happiness with this farm, until now! Her grandparents were kind, this farm was her happy-place. She just couldn't afford to do anything because there was no money and she didn't have the skill.

She knew that if she told him about her circumstances now, he would believe she was playing the 'woe is me' card. Taking on Gray, his sister and grandfather, was, she thought, charity. But clearly he thought she was taking advantage of them. He was right, in many ways.

Taking on Gray, and his family, was the best thing for this farm. He was a good manager, and he was rescuing her farm. The only problem was that he thought she could keep haemorrhaging money. But she had no money.

She wished they had a better relationship, because if she trusted him, she would drop her façade, and it would not matter about saving pride, she would tell him about her finances. The fact there was no money available. No easy money. There was no pot of spare cash. There was no cash at all, really. She worked hard to bring in money to support her and her newly acquired cohabitants. She took loans to pay him a wage and to feed his family. But she had worked hard to keep her finances a private matter.

Her bank and Jones' family know about her finances, that is why Jenny, and her dad, suggested Gray. He could look after the farm and he need somewhere. It would suit everyone, given the relationship, she provided him a roof and food, and he and his family worked the farm. And while she thought he was amazing, he thought she was a pampered, self-absorbed, selfish, conceited, self-important, excuse of a woman! The words rattled around in her head. What he said about her character meant she couldn't tell him about her finances because he wouldn't believe her. 

Her parents and grandparents had died in a road traffic accident two years ago. Which is when she found out that her parents were living well beyond their means and her grandparents had large overdrafts that they'd been relying on for years to keep the farm stocked and running. The debts had been huge, and by the time she had paid nearly all of them, there had been nothing but air to inherit. Despite that, she was determined to hold onto the farm and so had been to see the bank to discuss options. A year ago she had stopped renting her flat and moved into the farm. Her plan was to take her time and gradually bring the farm back from the dead.

The question is how to keep Gray on side? Without his help, her plan would take years. 

His description of her was the equivalent of receiving forty lashes. She felt them slice into her with the force of strips of leather against tender skin. But she did her best not to seem intimidated or overawed. 

He stood watching her. She seemed completely unfazed by his tirade. Most women would be in tears by now, or ranting and raving. Or at the very least defending themselves. He'd said some brutal things and she'd done nothing to chastise him for that.

This woman was a conundrum. A conundrum that was unexpected. She wasn't exactly a puzzle: he knew she was someone who spent money of her but not her farm, someone who expects everyone to work on the farm but not her. The challenge he faced was the mystery: why fancy her? Utterly a paradox.