‘You mean I have enough money to buy a tie for ten thousand bucks and should wear it just ‘cos it’s designed by some guy who happens to be top of the fashion tree this month.’
‘Well!’ Cyndi stood up and began smoothing away imaginary creases. ‘If you’re not prepared to take this seriously—’
‘Cyndi, I am taking this seriously, but this is me. This is who I am. I like my jeans and my boots and my hat. That’s what I feel comfortable in and I can’t change that. I don’t want to change that. It’s how you met me, and I’m sorry if you’re now ashamed of me because of it.’
‘Of course, I’m not ashamed of you, honey.’ She touched his arm. ‘I just think you have more potential.’
‘Potential?’ Ben looked back up in confusion.
‘You know, the advertising contracts you’ve been offered and—’
Ben cut her off. ‘Is it all about the money to you? Is that all we mean? All I mean to you?’
Cyndi looked taken aback. Ben never lost his temper with her. In fact, he rarely lost it ever. But she could see the anger – and maybe hurt – flashing in his eyes now. Inside she felt a little twinge that possibly she was responsible for that hurt. But still. She spent so much time and money on her appearance to look good for him and then he wanted her to hide out here in the back of beyond! And had the audacity to snap at her when she voiced an opinion on it!
‘That’s unfair!’ Cyndi spat back. Her eyes were dry but she was working on that.
‘Oh man,’ Ben whispered under his breath.
‘Sometimes I wonder if you even care about me at all! About what I want! What makes me happy!’ Cyndi began, still endeavouring to force the waterworks. ‘Trying to force me to live in the middle of nowhere when you know I’d hate it! All you care about is that you’ve got a pretty face hanging on your arm!’
Ben was stunned into silence. When he regained his voice, it was soft. ‘Is that really what you think?’
‘Yes! That’s really what I think!’ His wife spun on her five-inch, red soled stilettos and tottered off, the strut of her tantrum rather undermined by the insecurity of the spiked heels on the uneven ground. Ben followed her to the car.
‘Do you think I don’t love you?’
‘I don’t know!’ She threw in a sniff for extra effect.
‘You know I’d never try and force you – or anyone – into doing something they didn’t want to. Surely you know that about me by now?’
She gave a shrug. Ben let out a sigh and shook his head.
‘Cyndi.’ He kissed her gently on the forehead. ‘Look, you go back to the apartment tonight. I’ll stay here and go see the real estate agent in the morning. We don’t have to keep the house.’ There was a pause. ‘I just thought you’d like it. That it’d be a great place to bring kids up in.’ He waited a beat, knowing that deep down, a part of him was hoping she would relent and say OK, that perhaps they would try living here for a while but the deal was done as far as Cyndi was concerned. She’d won. Again. As usual. She nodded as she fished out a compact from her Hermés crocodile Birkin bag and reapplied her lipstick. There was no trace of the tears.
‘OK, I’ll see you tomorrow then.’
He nodded then helped her into the Porsche and shut the door. She sped off down the unsealed drive, kicking up even more dust. As it lazily settled around him, Ben looked down at his jeans, removed his hat and beat at them half-heartedly with it.
Turning, he let his gaze settle on the house. His beautiful house. He’d fallen in love with it the moment he’d seen it and had been hopeful of a new start there. Walking back across, he took up his seat again on the steps and looked out onto the wheat fields that backed up to his land. The golden curtain danced and waved in the breeze. Soon it would be harvesting time and he’d been looking forward to watching as the huge machines worked their way along the crop. The process had fascinated him as a boy and still held allure for him all these years later. His eyes drifted over the rest of the landscape. There was so much space, so much land, so much sky. It was wonderful. He didn’t understand how Cyndi couldn’t love it. Couldn’t get his head around why she would prefer to live in the city with the constant noise and people and traffic.
Cyndi was born in the city and had no desire to leave. He was born a country boy and would always stay one, in his heart at least. In that, it seemed, they would always differ.
A thought popped into his head. Now that Cyndi would be back at their apartment, he ought to ring Sandy and let her know she didn’t need to go to the apartment and feed the cat. Housekeeping wasn’t due in today and when Ben had told Sandy about his plans to take Cyndi out to the new house and surprise her, hoping that they would stay out there a few days, Sandy had volunteered to head over and see that their pet was fed.
‘Well, I certainly surprised her!’ He sighed aloud to himself, leaning his head back against one of the porch supports as he closed his eyes. The only noise was the wind as it played gently with the crop. He’d never felt so comfortable in a place. Never had such a feeling of being exactly where he was supposed to be as he did right now.
Opening his eyes, the reality hit him. There was no way Cyndi would live here – or anywhere like it. The moment she knew it was theirs and not merely a chance to see where someone else might be living – what someone else might have – she hadn’t even wanted to set foot inside.
Ben knew his only option was to return to the city. He tried to push away the twist in his stomach at that knowledge. Tried to ignore the thought of how miserable he found constant city life, and how much more free and alive he felt when he was out here, in the wide open spaces he’d loved his whole life. He pushed a hand through his hair in frustration. He needed to leave. Staying at this house was only making him want it more. Better just to head back and call the real estate agent tomorrow.
Standing, he returned his hat to his head and walked down to the pleasant brick building that provided lodging for the farmhands. Following excellent recommendations from the previous owner, he’d taken the workers on along with the property. The horses and land were in good hands with them. Ben made a mental note to specify that he wanted their interests looked after when he sold the property on.
‘Hey Jed,’ he called, addressing the head rancher as he held out his hand.
‘Hey, Mr Danvers,’ Jed replied, shaking it. ‘You showing Mrs Danvers around?’ Jed had seen them arrive in a shiny sports car that didn’t seem the best choice for the tracks around here but then rich people tended to do things their own way from what he’d seen.
‘Yeah.’ Ben smiled. ‘She got called back to the city though.’
‘Oh, that’s a shame. Still. Plenty of time.’
Ben smiled. At least Jed made the effort. When they’d visited before, they’d met up with Jed so that he could show them around the land. Cyndi’s snobbery had shown its ugly head again then as she turned up her nose at the hat Jed had kindly offered her – a perfectly clean and acceptable one – in order to protect her from the heat of the day. She’d blanked him and walked off, dropping her designer sunglasses back in front of her face for the rest of the visit and asking Ben questions which would have been better directed at the ranch hand.
Her behaviour had caused Ben to cringe and, having made some lame excuse to Jed about her feeling out of sorts today, he’d called her out on it on the way home. She’d made a vague sort of apology and her behaviour had seemed to ease for a couple of days, but as soon as she was back with her friends, Ben saw the trait float to the surface again. Cyndi had been spoiled from day one by her parents and now by him. He knew he had to accept some of the blame. He’d been bowled over by her the moment he met her and swore then and there that whatever she wanted, he would give it to her. It was, after all, what she was used to and if he didn’t,