He ran his fingers through his hair in exasperation, but his voice was firm and cool, "Yes, and you were in that situation because you were too bloody stubborn, too much pride and not enough food! And refused to have support until you were on the floor in a heap!" He left the hose facing the stalls and walked back to the tap, reached past her, flicked the switch, and turned in on, again.
"Refused support?" She hissed. "Refused who?" She took a step away, as his arm brushed against her chest as he reached for the tap to turn it on.
Having turn on the water, he quirked an eyebrow, defying her. "If you switch it off again, I will switch in on and I will direct the cold water in your direction!" She glared. With that unspoken agreement he turned around, and said, "Lucy said she and the family offered you a loan." He marched towards the hose that was twitching with the water. No doubt he would be drenched, reaching for the hose.
"Great, I will have words with her! I will not remain in debt." She mumbled.
He quickly sprayed the first three stalls, washing out the muck, moved on to the next stall. "Regan, I want you to listen to me! You need help with this farm!"
Calm rational thought fled. "Yes. I know that!"
"Good. Remember that!" He had moved to the next batch.
"And I hope you remembered you found a worker for me!" She snapped. He glanced around at her and rolled his eyes. Regan grated, "He will be starting to do the evening shift, remember." She declared angrily her eyes flashing.
He had reached the last stall. "Yes, in three days time! Not now." He watched her with a fair amount of wariness. "What is going on here, Regan?" He left the hose on the floor and moved back to the tap. Cool and calm he asked, "Why are you being so ornery?" He reached forward to stroke her shoulder. For some reason this approach was going down like a lead balloon. She was fuming, He could see it in her eyes. She was livid. Why?
Pushing his hand away with barely concealed indignation, she tossed at him "My nature!" Not helped by the fact you did not come here yesterday, her statement remained unspoken.
Standing a few inches away from her he snorted. "That is not true." Gray said bluntly, and turned off the tap and he flicked the switch.
She reiterated adamantly, "Fine. Good!" She folded her arms. "Please can you remember this is my farm." And took two steps away. Best to leave before her pent up frustration really erupts. "Thank you for finding and arranging the work situation for this farm."
He thought fast trying to work out why she was being so difficult. He was helping her. Anyone in her circumstances would appreciate the help. He needed to change tack given that had not registered with her that he was helping her, "Are you cross because I didn't find someone to do both shifts..."
"Of course not!"
"What is it then?" He watched her face carefully. Her expression was closed.
"Nothing." She looked away. She knew she was being difficult. Just because he did not show up yesterday. How do you explain that to anyone, without revealing her feelings for him?
He exhaled, "Regan, obvious, there is something..."
She folded her arms and looked at him and opted for a red herring. "You don't have the authority to work here!"
He blinked. Is she kidding? Need authority?
She ignored his stunned reaction. "You can't decide when you can work here. And you need my permission!"
He demanded, threw up his hands, "Fuck's sake." He muttered. "Why?"
"Because it is my farm!" Silently she continued; and you don't love me!
"You need help!" He informed her in mockingly supercilious tones as he lost his patience. "You have just come off a one week sick leave, done a shift, where you no doubt had to deal with various grim problems, sapping your emotional energy, sapping your physical energy, and sapping any residue energy!" His tone was gentle, as he said softly "Resulting in utterly exhaustion." But his next words were enough to have her spitting tacks again. "Come back this evening, to do the milking is bloody stupid!
"Stupid?" She huffed.
"Yes! Bloody stupid! " He grated.
"You..."
"You might be stubborn but you not an idiot, Regan. So stop pretending you are! You will end up back in bed." He said in weariness. "What I don't understand is your mood tonight! He pushed bravely. "Stop being unreasonable, Regan."
She snapped, "Unreasonable?" Her irritation was clear in the word. Her hands planted firmly on her hips, her eyes flashed hostile messages and her tone conveyed her resentment loud and clear.
"Yes. Bloody unreasonable." He stated bluntly.
She snapped. "Fine! If I came to your home and did your job, that would be ok?"
"Yes, if I was ill! I would accept any help."
"Rubbish!" She snapped. "You apparently were a poor patient!"
He ignored that red herring and continued, "If you had the skill," his words were measured, "so yes, I would thank you for your help and leave you to do it." He was pleased to see his experience, of dealing with Loretta, were finally paying off!
Regan reminded her brain to try and keep this serene, no more diva retorts. And she knew she was being a diva. She could remain calm she learnt that as a child. She folded her arms defensively and looked away. Keep calm she commanded herself. She mumbled. "This is a waste of my time!"
"I disagree!" He wondered why getting information out of her was harder than finding a worker who could work for a pittance. In a glum tone he asked, "So what is going on here, exactly, Regan?" He knew she was better but was not expecting her mood.
"Nothing, apart from the fact you are wasting my time!" She murmured.
He remonstrated in a grouchy voice, "You aren't going to tell me why you are being difficult, about me helping you!" He was mulling over the fact that she hadn't told him anything and while he pinned her to the spot, he reviewed the last forty-eight hours. He shook his head, "I am not leaving until you tell me what is going on here." He looked at her more closely trying to work out the reasons for this mood.
"Fine. Stay here!" She turned away from him.
In his mind he acknowledged grimly that he was going to have to change his tack. "Have you paid Bob?" He yelled at her back.
"What?" She spun around.
"Have you paid him?" He folded his arms.
She stopped and waited for him to come closer. "He has only done a week." She frowned.
"Exactly. Have you paid him?"
"I thought he would be paid monthly, like you!" Her tone and her warning failed. Gray came closer.
He asked in a peremptory manner, but kept his tone flat. "Did you discuss that with him?"
"No. You engaged him." He was probably going to restart that argument about not having finances. She banked her uneasy.
He quirked a brow. "So, let me see, your argument is that I need permission to be here but don't need your permission to engage Bob, on a farm belongs to you."
A sense of unease descended. "Fine. My fault." She mulled the question for a moment. And she really didn't want to argue with him. But she also knew, if you appeared confident, people thought you were confident. So, she made sure she looked confident, composed and cool. Remember, stay level-headed and in control. But on the inside she was nervous and unhappy. So eventually she prevaricated, shrugging her shoulders, seeing from his reaction and his statement. "I will pay him tomorrow." She would have to stop at the cash machine tonight, and hoped she could withdrawal cash for the full amount.
"And hopefully, by that time, you will have lost this new sulky disposition!" He looked up and into her eyes and his voice reflected the unease he saw in his eyes. "Do you have the money? A cash flow problem?"
"Yes. I can pay him. And no, I don't have a cash flow problem." She quirked a brow at him. "Anything else?"
Gray simply ignored the challenge in her eyes, instead he continued, "Not exactly." They'd said absolutely nothing for seconds as Regan glared at him, while he remained still. A few seconds later he said, "I am not leaving here until you explain your mood this evening."