Chapter 25

As November led into December, the girls found themselves at war with the elements both inside and outside of Patty's place. The man who delivered firewood came several times a week, and closed doors were policed ferociously in the chilly evenings. Walks to school were no longer times to chatter, but passages to be navigated with difficulty. Anne thought longingly of home, and a holiday in which there was little reason to brave the weather up to four times a day. Marilla would have a warm drink heating on the stove, and her little bedroom at Green Gables was a haven of warmth in the cold. In the meantime, though, she fought early December winds to get to classes, looking forward to leaving Kingsport for Avonlea in just over a fortnight's time.

Early one Friday morning, when the ladies were breakfasting in the little dining room, all heads were raised by an urgent knock on the door.

Phil ran to answer it, the rest of the girls close behind. They opened the door to greet in shock a white faced Gilbert, who immediately reached to take Anne in his arms. After a startled glance at each other, the other girls retreated to the dining room, holding their burning questions for the moment.

Anne had glimpsed Gilbert's bags in the doorway, and pulled back to take his face in her hands.

"Gil, what's happened?" she said, her eyes showing her fear.

He tried to take a deep breath. "It's Dad. There was an accident; I have to go."

"Oh, Gil." Anne tried to catch her breath. "Alright. Do you want me to come with you?" she asked.

He gave her a grateful look. "No, you still have an exam and two weeks of classes yet."

"But so do you!" she protested.

He chuckled wryly. "Professor Kellerman gave the exam to me, I'm to do it on the train and post it as soon as I reach the other end. I'm leaving right now. He's sending me the notes for my subjects."

Anne pulled away to get her coat. "If you can give me five minutes, I'll come with you to the station."

"Anne, you don't have to—" he protested, however when she only glared at him mutinously, he gave in. "Thank you."

Anne ran to quickly update the girls and gather what she needed, while Gilbert was hustled in front of the fire for a few minutes by Priscilla. A short time later Anne took the hand not occupied with his bags, and the two of them walked out onto the misty street together.

"Do you know what happened?" she asked.

Gilbert shook his head. "The telegram just said an accident- but mother wouldn't tell me to come for just anything." He shivered slightly, and Anne held his hand a little tighter on the long walk to the station.

Half an hour later, Gilbert had loaded his bags onto the waiting train. Seeing it would not leave for a few more minutes, he led Anne to the benches outside the waiting rooms. He needed to touch her, to find something concrete to anchor him. She nestled under his arm comfortingly.

"We were meant to travel home together in a fortnight," he said, forlorn. "Our first time in years."

She looked up at him, her grey eyes steady. "I'll be home in two weeks. You'll be right where you are needed, and I'll come home as planned."

"Moody and Charlie said they're coming home that day too, so they can make sure you're alright." Gilbert said, prompting Anne's laughter.

"I travelled this line to get to the Island when I was just eleven, Gilbert. And on the last trip back here, I was the one looking out for the seasick twins." She smiled at him then. "You have enough to worry about, don't worry about me. Priss and Stella are coming as far as Charlottetown as well."

The whistle blew then, and they reluctantly stood. Anne put her gloved hand against his cheek, and he put his arms around her tightly.

"Gil, you once told me your father was the stubbornest man you had ever known- and that he wouldn't give up for anything. Marilla says that about him too." Anne said softly. "He's going to recover quickly, and you will be there to see him do it."

He nodded, burying his face in her hair. "I'll pick you up from the station, all right? I'll let Marilla know."

"But your family needs you-"

He cut her off firmly. "I will be picking you up. And I'll write you as soon as I can."

She chuckled. "We might not get some of the letters until after we're back together again."

"I'll chance it." His hands were on her cheeks then, and he bent his head to kiss her lingeringly. "Two weeks. I'll see you in two weeks," he said, his breath coming quickly. She held his hand tight as they walked back onto the platform, and he stooped to give her another kiss before boarding the train.

As the train pulled out of the station, she was standing by his window, smiling bravely and waving until she couldn't see him anymore.

It was nearing midnight when Gilbert was finally delivered to his family home by George Fletcher, who had offered to collect his nephew from the last train at Bright River station. Feeling slightly surreal at the swiftness of the change, he knocked on his front door.

Cora Blythe met him at the door with a strangling hug, laughing and crying regardless of the late hour.

"Oh, Gilbert, my little boy! How in the world did you get here so quickly?" she cried to the man of twenty-four, and then pulled back to look at him closely. A slightly puzzled look came over her face, at the changes in Gilbert since they had last seen him in June. He had filled out once again, and despite the late hour, she could see that his eyes had lost the hopeless look they had had back then. What on earth could have produced such a change?

"Gilbert, you cut your hair!" she said, disappointed.

He laughed a little at that. "I was just trying something, Ma. Never mind that. What's going on with dad?"

She took his arm to lead him up the stairs to the master bedroom, talking softly. "He was trying to re-shingle the barn before the snow came, even though I thought it could wait another season. You know how stubborn he can be. He slipped on one of the old tiles and fell quite badly off the roof yesterday. The doctor was able to come fairly quickly; however, he was quite chilled before we were able to move him. He's been in and out of consciousness all day, the doctor said that that is to be expected with a concussion. He's been talking a little tonight, thank heavens. His arm was broken, as were a few ribs, however, it remains to be seen if that is the worst of the injuries. Oh, Gilbert, I'm so relieved you could come."

By this time, they had reached the doorway of his parent's room, and Gilbert walked in nervously. As his eyes adjusted to the dim room, he lowered himself into the little chair beside the bed. His father was lying flat on his back, and bandages covered his upper body and the side of his head. As he tried to take in the scope of the injury, the hazel eyes like his own opened, and the bruised face gave a twitch reminiscent of his father's old grin.

"Hi, dad." he said quietly.

His father's fingers lifted from the blue covers, and Gilbert took the weathered old hand, his throat constricting, and trying to smile past his own worry and exhaustion.

"You weren't just looking for some attention, were you dad?" Gilbert teased lightly. The older man's chest lifted slightly in a soundless chuckle.

"Ma's just being a drama queen, I'll be up in the morning." John Blythe mumbled, with a raspy voice. "It's good to see you, son."

Gilbert laughed quietly, relief flooding into his body. His father was still who he had always been. He stood up then, and leaned to hug his father as best as he could around the bandages.

"I'm here till after New Year's, dad. We'll see if we can't stop you from climbing on barns for the next month at least." The hand waved again, and Gilbert straightened up, letting out a breath he seemed to have been holding all day. His mother smoothed a cool hand over his father's forehead and then ushered her son from the room.

"You need to get some sleep first, dear, I have your room ready. You can sit with your father in the morning while I have a little rest." She fussed over him for a moment, looking wistfully at her grown-up son. "Gilbert, I'm so sorry to have interrupted you in term time; however, for a time the doctor wasn't sure how seriously he was injured. There was some concern about internal bleeding, and possible damage to the spine. I've been so worried, I didn't know what I would do until I received word you were coming this morning. I thought you needed to have the option to come, at least."

"I did need to. I'm glad I'm here," he said truthfully.

Gilbert hugged his mother, knowing how deeply worried she was. He remembered this look on her face from his younger days, days when they weren't sure if his father would live. From time to time the guilt of being his parent's only child and having to go so far from home to study would overwhelm him, however, his parents had only ever encouraged him to pursue whatever dream he had. Getting control of himself again, he sighed. He was here now; he couldn't worry about the rest of it.

Minutes later he was alone in his room, and he dropped his bags on his bedroom floor. He moved slowly to get changed for bed, looking around his room to acclimatise himself again. He let out a long sigh. He was home two weeks earlier than expected, however his father would be alright, he could see that. The last thing he pulled from his suitcase was the scarf he had teased Anne about not wanting to hand back.

As he lay in the darkness, a slight smile came to his face. Two seasons had come and gone, and so much had changed since the last time he had been here. He had left Avonlea the afternoon after the storm, as expected. When he had arrived home that morning just after sunrise, his father had met him at the door, completely bewildered at the sight of his ashen-faced son. Within minutes the story had been spilled out over the kitchen table, and John Blythe had his arm around his distraught son.

John had said very little. He told Gilbert they were proud of him for keeping on going, that it would get easier. He'd liked Marilla's girl, had hoped she would return Gilbert's love one day. He'd known, though, just how it felt to have to make a different life than the one you had planned.

When Gilbert had come back downstairs a few hours later, he was calmer and resolute. He told them Oxford was no longer a settled thing, that he would make up his mind about the scholarship when he returned to Kingsport. He would let them know as soon as he could. His mother had hugged him and cried, and his father had gently tried to prise her grip off Gilbert to get him to the station in time.

Gilbert settled against his pillows, pulling the heavy blankets over him again. He sighed, contented. The rest of the story would have to be told to his parents as soon as his father had stabilised, especially if Charlie had been busy. He wasn't worried, though. His parents had loved his girl, and in two weeks' time, Anne would be able to see that for herself.

It was another three days before John was able to sit up in bed and eat a meal. Once the worst of the headaches had subsided, he began to lament the now enforced idleness; despite Cora and Gilbert's protests that everything around the farm was under control. Cora faithfully read farming bulletins to him to occupy his mind, and Gilbert was required to give a point by point account of everything he had done in the barn that day. In between the daily reports and chores, Gilbert had found some time to work on his studies, and his last exam had been mailed from the Charlottetown post office as he had promised.

On Monday afternoon Gilbert was sitting in his parent's bedroom reading some case studies, when his mother arrived home from the store, and walked in to see how the invalid was doing.

"Everyone is asking after you, dear. The Andrews' have dropped off a stew and some baked goods this morning, followed by some pies from Orchard Slope. I must say, I am relieved to not have to cook today." She took her hat off to lay it on the dresser and leaned over to check on her husband.

"And what did you boys do this morning?" she asked brightly. It was miraculous how much having Gilbert at home cheered the house up, and she was convinced it was helping John to recover much more quickly.

Even from under the bandage under his eye, Cora could see the grin on her husband's face.

"Oh, we kept occupied. Do you want to tell your mother what you just told me?" he said to Gilbert.

Cora looked at him, her eyes wide. She carefully sat down on the edge of the bed, trying not to jostle John, and then turned to Gilbert with a slightly higher voice than usual. "Tell me what, exactly?"

Gilbert scratched his ear, a sheepish smile on his face. "I'd hoped to lead into it a little, dad."

John's laugh rang out in the little room, punctuated by a slight groan at the stress it had placed on his mending ribs.

Gilbert chuckled. "All right. Mother, I guess I've been writing this term a lot about-"

"Yes, like you haven't written for nearly two years, dear." Cora interrupted. "I'm glad something is making you put pen to paper for us again."

"Well, it's not exactly something, but someone," Gilbert said awkwardly. "It's Anne."

Cora pursed her lips a little. The mentions in letters had not been slight and had been the source of many an anxious moment for her. Would the girl hurt him again? How on earth had they managed to remain friends after the Kingsport man that Almira Sloane had assured her was there? John had been sanguine about it, saying their son was a smart fellow, he wouldn't hang around where he was likely to be burned. Cora was less convinced. She had known how much her boy had loved the dreamy girl, and she'd liked her too- until the day she had been told by a complacent Mrs Sloane the devastating outcome of Gilbert's proposal.

"While I am very glad the two of you have been able to come to terms again as two old schoolfellows, I'm not sure just what you think-"

"Cora, just listen." her husband ordered gently.

"You know I've written about how close we are again. Mother, I have my best friend back. You know how much I missed her. And you probably also know I still love her." he said frankly.

She sighed, her arms folded. "Yes, I suppose so."

"She loves me," Gilbert said simply. "I don't mean as friends, or as companions, I mean Anne loves me like I love her. And I'm going to ask her to marry me."

Cora's face was a study, alternating between joy and consternation. "Dear, I don't wish to be insensitive to your feelings, but how can you really be sure?" she pleaded. "We all thought this would go somewhere before, and all you ended up with was a broken heart."

John chuckled. "That's your version of sensitive, love?" he said teasingly to his wife. "He knows. Just let him speak."

Gilbert sighed, having known this would come up. He sat forward on his chair and looked at his mother earnestly. Over the next ten minutes, he recounted the whole story for her, stopping periodically to answer her questions. Finally, he sat back on the chair to finish.

"Mother, I have spent nearly every moment with her since we returned to college. It's not like it was before, it's different. I know that- I know her." he added. "We can talk now- and I understand why she said no back then. She wasn't ready, but I didn't see it. I was scared, and I tried to hang on to her on by proposing, which in retrospect was a stupid move." He sighed, and then his face broke into a tender smile that surprised his mother. "Over two weeks ago she told me she loved me. I don't think I've touched the ground since then. She was the one to see me off on the train from Kingsport. She even offered to come back here with me on Friday," and he laughed a little. "I just wish I'd said yes."

Cora had her arms tightly folded now, and was furiously trying to not cry. John attempted to reach out to her, however, it was Gilbert who stood and walked over to her and took her hand awkwardly.

"Ma, I know this isn't what you expected, and I know you have your reservations. But Anne is the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with- and she wants a life with me. I know that."

At this Cora burst into tears, and threw her arms around her bewildered son. He looked down at his father in consternation, who just laughed. She was saying something into his shoulder, and he had to ask her to repeat it.

"You get your what?" he asked.

"I get to have a daughter," she sobbed, and Gilbert looked at her, confused. "And I always thought that girl needed a mother. I would have adopted her when you were teaching if I could have. If she'd only had one she wouldn't have been so mixed up." she said emphatically, her voice shaking.

"Cora, she already has Marilla, who loves her very much. And there are plenty of mixed up people who do have parents, dear." John said, amused.

"Can you both stop calling her that?" Gilbert said, exasperated. "She loves me. There's nothing mixed up about that, is there?"

Cora wiped her eyes, her head held high. "Oh, you boys wouldn't understand. When does she get back?" She turned to Gilbert, her brown eyes bright.

Gilbert laughed. With his mother, it was all in or all out- Anne would be fine now.

"She'll arrive when we originally planned to, on the seventeenth. I'm picking her up from the station."

"Good. Tell her we want her to visit as soon as she is able to. Oh, when are you going to propose?"

He protested. "Give me some time, mother. I'm not exactly on holidays right now, am I? I'm here for you and dad. Plus, I need to talk to Marilla first."

"Well, get right on that, dear." She then eyed him mischievously. "I suppose this is why you look so much healthier than you did last summer. Is Anne responsible for that?"

Gilbert laughed. "She is. It's amazing what happiness and a bit of sleep can do for you."

Cora bustled out of the room wiping her eyes then, leaving father and son alone.

"Well, that went better than I expected." Gilbert said with a wry grin.

John groaned as he shifted on the bed. "You told us a fair bit in your letters, remember. I noticed you were a bit sketchy on details with the night of the storm though."

"Did you want me to give her heart failure, dad?"

"She's made of stronger stuff than that. We were young too, once." John sighed. He fixed his son with a serious look. "Just tell me you treated Marilla's girl with respect, Gil. Both then and now."

Gilbert looked at his father, his eyes steady. "I have, dad."

"Good." John gave a slight smile. "Are you still planning on going to medical school?" he asked.

"Yes. It'll be a long engagement." Gilbert said soberly.

John nodded. "It'll pass, and quicker than you might think." He sighed then, and Gilbert stood to move the pillows to make him more comfortable. "You should get back to work, son. The cows won't shoe themselves."

Gilbert looked at him sharply, before seeing the grin on the older man's face. He settled back on his pillows as Gilbert left the room chuckling.

His father was doing so much better now, and the doctor had been cautiously optimistic about the injury he had done to his back when he fell. Dr Spencer had told his father sternly that if he wanted to be up by Christmas he would have to stay abed, without complaining. Privately he told Cora and Gilbert that the risk of permanent damage was decreasing, allowing them to breathe a collective sigh of relief.

Gilbert had a grin on his face as he donned his heavy boots, and his father's work coat to head out to the barn. He stood on the veranda of his home, breathing the freshness of the cool, winter air and looked up the misty road with keen eyes. There was the path he had once been so familiar with, the road to Green Gables. He turned from it with a little smile on his face.

He would be heading that way soon.