Page 7 of The Farmer Has a Wife

The entire house smelled faintly of livestock, damp wool, and something suspiciously like burning toast, even though she was sure that she hadn’t made toast for weeks.She’d opened up all the windows when she came in to air the place out.

The spoon clattered in the cup as she stirred, and as much as she knew she should be thinking about a way to make some money fast, Danni found that she just kept coming back to her. The woman from yesterday. The one with the fancy car and the crisp accent and the very punchable expression of absolute certainty that Danni was to blame for their little collision.

Eleanor Brewster.

LadyEleanor Brewster, as she’d been so careful to write on hercontact information. Like the Lady would help matters.

Danni huffed, leaning against the counter with her coffee cup in hand. She knew Eleanor’s type. Rich, entitled. She probably had a horse named something ridiculous, like Wellington or Bartholomew. The kind of person who thought work meant signing documents in fancy offices with expensive pens. The kind of person that Danni had no time for in the slightest.

Except.

Danni frowned into her coffee. Except she obviously did, didn’t she? Because here she was thinking about the damn woman.

The problem was, Eleanor had been attractive. Annoyingly so. That sleek blonde hair and those sharp cheekbones. Those green eyes like bottle glass. The way her generous mouth had curled in absolute disdain at the state of Danni’s jeans and flannel shirt.

She sighed.

She’d never been much for dating. It wasn’t like she had time for much other than working. Hell, she barely had time to shower most days. At least every third day, she just slammed on some extra deodorant and stuck a hat on.

Running a farm took every ounce of time and energy that Danni had. But she wasn’t dead. She had noticed Eleanor. And that was annoying. Infuriating, even.

A loud knock at the front door nearly made her spill her coffee.

Scowling, she stomped to the door, already assuming that it was Hector coming by to lecture her about her finances and choices again. It was only as she was swinging the door open that she realized that Hector would never come to the front door. No one would. Everyone knew that if you wanted attention in a farmhouse, the kitchen door was the one to knock on.

And by that point, it was too late. The door was already open.

Eleanor Brewster, sorry, Lady Eleanor Brewster, stood on the porch looking as out of place as a queen in a pigsty. She was dressed immaculately, of course. Cream-colored trousers and a tailored navy trench coat, a scarf slung over her shouldersthat looked expensive enough to fund the next three rounds of tractor repairs. Painted lips were pressed into a tight line and her expression screamed that she was not amused.

Danni blinked, hoping to dispel the vision, but it didn’t work. “Well, if it isn’t Her Royal Highness.”

Eleanor’s right eye twitched. “Charming, I’m sure. I’ve been attempting to reach you.”

“Have you?” asked Danni airily. “Well, there’s this new-fangled invention called the telephone, I’m not sure if you’ve heard of it?”

“Of course I’ve heard of it. And I’ve been ringing all morning. Apparently, your phone is disconnected.”

Ah. Danni had a sinking feeling in her stomach. “Probably just… a service issue.”

“Or perhaps,” Eleanor said coolly, and hitting the nail right on the head, “you haven’t paid your bill.”

Danni shifted her weight and crossed her arms, making a mental note to pay the damn phone bill. “What do you want, Princess?”

Eleanor inhaled sharply, clearly summoning all the patience her aristocratic bloodline had ever possessed. “For a start, I’d like you to pay for the damage to my car.”

Danni let herself stare for a long moment before laughing. “Oh, that’s sweet.”

“Excuse me?” Eleanor’s nostrils flared.

“You think I can afford to fix your fancy little car?” Danni said. “Lady, I can barely afford to fix my tractor. And, as you’ve pointed out, my phone bill hasn’t been paid for at least three months. Not to mention my brother’s tractor, that’s now dented thanks to your precious little sports car.”

Eleanor’s gaze darkened. “So what? You’re refusing to take responsibility?”

“Not at all,” Danni shrugged. “I’ll take responsibility if it was my fault. I just won’t be paying for it, that’s all.”

There was a long silence, during which Eleanor looked as if she was calculating whether or not she could have Danniexecuted. Danni found herself reminded of the Queen of Hearts from Alice in Wonderland.

“You do realize,” Eleanor said icily, “that I could take legal action?”

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