Commitment

Part 9

His feelings about her and the way she managed the farm surfaced with the force and vitriol of a menacing volcano as it erupted. "It's in dire straights. You know that. It was in a mess." He glared. She actually winced. "Your actions. Just your actions."

"That..."

"You neglected the farm. Your farm." Again he glared at her, "Your barn was a mess. Your equipment is so old, and was not maintained, so that most of the equipment do not work!"

"Yes, but..."

"Your fences are a shambles, might as well strung a spider web instead of a proper fence."

She shrugged and folded her arms. In her head she acknowledged his statements, but she also remembered she did not have any stock so the state of her farm's fence was not an issue. Until now.

"You had no stock. You did not even know what was needed."

She bit her lips. She felt like a toddler, who was reprimanded for her actions.

"The farm was chaos. Clutter. Shambolic." Every little thing on the farm showed neglect. Utter abandonment all over the place." He spun her chair around, with her still sitting on it, then planted a hand on the backrest and leaned in until their noses were practically touching as he accused with obvious hostility. "Because of you and your life style."

She lifted her head. "I don't think so." She corrected him with steel in her voice. She batted back the tiredness and held her ground. Why was it that people thought they could just ridden roughshod over her. Make statements about her, denigrate her, and hope to get away with it? He was about to find out that she was made of sterner stuff.

His temper took a firm hold as his voice dropped to an icy pitch, "The whole place is run down. While you swan in and out like lady muck." He saw her eyes widen at that comment. Eyes that he found enticing, looked up at him as if he was spouting fiction. And the months of frustration and annoyance escaped with a vengeance. He'd been bottling up his aggravation for the last few weeks. Channelling most of his frustration and anger into hard labour on the farm. But now he decided that she needed to hear a few home truths. "You contribute nil in real terms."

She held onto her temper. He was right with some of his statements, but not all. Of course she contributed. All the time. She just doesn't blow her trumpet.

"You put in absolutely nothing on this place." His eyes heated as his voice dropped another notch on the ice scales, "You know nothing about farming." He accused.

Her mouth opened, "Wait a second...."

He ignored her attempt to interrupt and continued doggedly, "You think, we are your servants!" He snapped, then stepped back an inch, before launching in with more of the same spiel, "You spend more time off the farm then on it."

"What..."

"You don't help when you are here."

"Hang on..."

"You haven't the faintest idea how to run a farm."

"Maybe..."

"You dress like you are some bloody princess!"

"What..."

"You are bloody self centred"

Her eyes remained wide open. His words rattled around in her mind.

"Fucking bone idle." He snapped

"Wrong!" She replied.

He ignored the interruption. "You don't care about this place. All you're interested in, is your image. Your bloody image. A superficial fucking image." He leaned closer.