Christmas at Promise Lodge by Charlotte Hubbard

Gloria made it sound as if he’d be peeling off his clothes and handing them to her. “Might be better if I brought them to your house,” he suggested. “That would give me a chance to clean up and put the clothes into a bag for you. Once I turn the cows back outside—”
    â€œI could come and help you!” Gloria blurted. “I’ve always wanted to see a dairy cow up close and—”
    â€œAbsolutely not.” Roman set down his fork and focused on her. “I have to maintain health department sanitation regulations, so I can’t have other folks coming in and out of the milking barn on a whim, Gloria,” he explained in a low but firm voice. “Your presence—any stranger’s arrival—would make the cows nervous, too. If one of them stepped on your foot, I’d have a serious issue to deal with right in the middle of the milking. Stay home. Please.”
    Gloria’s eyes widened as though she might burst into tears. “You don’t have to be so mean about it,” she whimpered.
    From a few seats down, Noah joined the conversation. “Roman’s just following regulations, Gloria,” he reiterated kindly. “He has set procedures, as far as getting the milk into a refrigerator tank and doing things just right to prevent any chance of contamination goes. Running a dairy’s a lot different from a family keeping a milk cow or two.”
    â€œAnd I might work longer than you realize after the milking’s done,” Roman continued, trying to be patient. “The truck comes to fetch our milk early tomorrow morning, so everything’s got to be ready. And then I have to feed and water the herd, muck out the barn, and sanitize the milking equipment.”
    He smiled, hoping to avoid a scene. His two aunts, Gloria’s mamm , and the other ladies had probably been following this conversation as they reset the long tables for the second shift of folks that were coming in to eat. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to wash my clothes, Gloria,” he repeated in a low voice. “I doubt you’ll want to mix my grungy stuff in with your family’s other laundry, and I certainly don’t expect you to do my pieces by themselves. Nor would it be nice of me to bring over the whole week’s worth of my barn clothes so you’d have a full load.”
    Gloria’s expression told him she hadn’t considered these details in her eagerness to please him, to win some time alone with him. “Maybe you’re right, Roman,” she murmured. “I—I just wanted to help.”
    â€œAnd I appreciate it.” He had the distinct impression that Gloria wanted him to make her a better offer—to suggest something fun they could do together—but he kept quiet. After the enjoyable time he’d spent with Mary Kate on the Lehmans’ porch, he knew better than to mix it up with two sisters. Gloria was completely different in temperament and intention, and no matter how nice he was to both of them, one sister was bound to get her feelings hurt—or he’d get caught in the middle and they’d both turn on him.
    â€œWell, I guess I’ll get back to the kitchen and help with the cleaning up,” Gloria said with a long-suffering sigh. “Seems to me that Mary Kate could’ve stuck around here to help us, considering how Dat told her not to show herself at the wedding. I bet she’s had a fine, restful day playing with the cats . . .”
    Her sentence drifted off as she turned to leave. Roman glanced at the last bite of his coconut pie and left it. Why did girls have to be so complicated? He hadn’t given Gloria any encouragement that he knew of.
    Noah, Deborah, and Laura rose from their places to stretch and walk around as the new shift of folks took their seats. “Careful there,” his brother murmured when he passed behind Roman’s chair. “Something