Commitment

Part 17

"Yes." He snapped.

"Oh." Internally she gulped. This was spiralled out of control. Again. Obviously he was gaining momentum, and getting reading to launch another volley of insults, all because it was about money. 

"Do you care? About anything at all." Gray demanded. This discussion deteriorated. Again. Obviously shewas stalling, and was getting ready to dodge any conversation about potential resources,all because it was about money.

Stalling, determined to avoid any real discussions about her finances, she searched her mind for a detour. "Why are you in such a bad mood?" She asked as she pegged up the other pillowcase. She moved along the line, and then reached for the duvet cover, "Could you help me with this?" She gestured to the white lace frilled duvet, "If you grab that corner, we can string it along its length." She wasn't sure whether he'd help, but much to her delight he did. Although he continued to muttered. He came closer, reached for the edge she held out to him and then stalked down the line. Regan pegged the end, then walked along and pegged it every few inches along, then when she was about to reach his end of the duvet she reached over and handed him a peg, "Here you go." He looked at the wooden peg. She raised a brow. He took the peg and snapped it on. She put on another peg.

Gray was about to rip the lace sheet as his irritation grew. The last two weeks his grandfather had tried to champion her. Sam repeatedly how lucky they were to have a home, to have food and a job. How lucky we were to have her.

"So, what's the matter?" Regan asked quietly. She knew what the matter was, but she was stalling for time. She turned and headed back for the basket. Picking it up she walked toward him despite the fact she wanted to run away. But hiding her head in the sand was not a good way of dealing with the matter. A shame she had opted for that strategy for the last two weeks.

Gray stalked after her. Obvious the plan had been to throw him off by getting him to help her peg the washing on the line. He was made of stronger stuff. It would take more than that token side-track to stop him from pursuing this matter.

He growled at her, "The matter is that you expect me to run this place without access to the books." He'd been working all hours of the day to do the work of at least three men. When she'd forced him to concede that Lore did not want to work on the farm that had left him picking up the tasks Lore had helped with.

"Oh." Regan hid her sudden panic. If he saw the books he'd know there wasn't any money, then how long would he stay? "I mean, I know you have a lot on your plate. What with doing most of the jobs on the farm! I figured I would handle the financial stuff, you can continue with the farm's practical stuff. I figured you don't have enough time to deal with the books." She was going to join Pinnochio, because her nose was growing with her lies.

"True. But seems like you have plenty time and money to spend on your white frilly expensive bed linen." He looked at the materials she had pegged out to dry. Expensive. Definitely. He growled, "But you don't appear to have the cash to purchase some much needed farm equipment." He glared at the linen as if it was at fault.

"Sorry?" She looked at her duvet and pillowcases, and then back at him. He obviously thought old lace bed linen was expensive. It probably was in her grandmother's day, and as it was her grandmother's Regan hadn't had to pay for it. It was lovely, good quality, but just a touch old fashion. But she knew, she couldn't afford new linen, anything modern, which is why she was making do with linen that was well over thirty years old. It had been good quality linen, which is probably why it was still functional. And she did not put the sheet in the automatic washing machine, she hand-washed them because they were so delicate! Antique. Definitely not modern. It was too frilly for Regan's tastes, but she couldn't afford to have taste. She had had to settle for available and functional. So she used what she had.

He repeated his statement, "I said, you don't appear to have the cash to purchase some much needed farm equipment!"

Still stalling she questioned, "What equipment?" She glanced over her shoulder and found that he was a scant foot away. Her heart jumped, but she ignored that.

"I left you a list." He snapped.

"Oh, really?" She kept her gaze vacant.

He wondered if she'd claim to have no knowledge of it. He wouldn't put that past her. "Yes. I left you a list. As you kept avoiding me." He accused and studied her reaction. He added, "I left it on the kitchen table. Last Friday."

Regan nodded. "Oh, yes, I remember. You left a list on the kitchen table." She muttered, as she recalled the list.

"And?" He scowled.

"It didn't have any prices on it." She had no intention of agreeing to purchase items of equipment with names she didn't recognise unless she knew their cost and whether she could afford them. She had spent the last few days using her spare time to look up the various items on various catalogues and tried to price them. Not knowing which were urgent and which were necessary, she'd just gathered as much information as she could about their costs. She wanted to be ready when she spoke to Gray about the list, hoping they could compromise, and only buy what was needed, urgently needed. But practically everything on that list was expensive. Well, to her most things over five dollars were considered expensive!

"What?" His voice was low and flat. She should have realised that he would interpret it the wrong way. Gray was about to bellow in frustration and annoyance when he realised that it would be a waste of time. Nothing he said or did seemed to shift her from her miserly approach to running this farm.

"I wasn't sure how much you wanted." She hedged defensively.

"Then why didn't you ask me?" He asked silkily.