Author's note: And here's a comparatively short chapter for you, although at the same time, it is one of my favourite ones so far. I really hope you will enjoy it as well.

Also, good news! Chapter 6 (which I mentioned while updating the story last) is actually finished, and moreover, I have begun to work on Chapter 7 as well. Isn't that exciting? :)

Once again, thank you all for supporting me here with your comments, but also with favouring and following this story, or simply reading it. It means a world to me.

And now, most important thing of all - Happy, Blessed Easter, my friends! Surrexit Dominus vere, Alleluia!

Chapter 4
Home is where your heart is

Having known Anne Shirley for nearly eleven years now, Rachel Lynde could not be expected to feel particularly surprised at the sight of the red-haired girl kicking her heels at Green Gables doorstep in the middle of the night after what clearly had been an adventurous journey. She had known Anne would come home the moment she had signed her named under the letter; just as she had known she would not procrastinate, delaying the journey no more than it was necessary. And she certainly was not astonished to see the anguish and uncertainty that reflected all over her.

What she was surprised to see, however, was the young man standing beside the girl, closer to her than any rule of propriety allowed…

...and that he certainly wasn't Anne's rich, mysterious beaux.

"My my, Gilbert Blythe! It's surely been a while since you last came here," she wanted to say at first but stopped herself, painfully aware of the singularity of their situation and the priorities it brought to the forefront. The questions were burning in her mind, of course; and had the circumstances been different, she would have wasted no time asking them. They were not, however, and Mrs Lynde was no more willing to forget it than she was to keep the pair in the dark any longer – and not only in the literal sense.

"Oh, come in you two, before you catch your death in that chill," she ordered with her usual briskness, waving her hand at them as she stepped aside to let them through. Neither moved; Mrs Rachel sighed wearily. "Truly, Anne -"

"How is she, Mrs Lynde?" Anne cut her off, as if she had just regained her ability to speak and thus couldn't mind how impolite her interruption had been.

The stately matron shook her head pityingly. "Marilla's well enough, no need to be dramatic about it. I told you there was no reason to panic, didn't I? The illness is severe, there is no point denying that – but it is also steady, and doctor Spencer says we should not lose hope just yet. Now for goodness' sake, get inside or I won't tell you another word!"

Having heard the most important news of all, Anne realised she had no reason to defer her entrance any longer; she swallowed nervously and nodded, and finally, she took the few steps needed to enter the kitchen, lit with nothing but the cinders in the fireplace and Mrs Lynde's lonely candle. Gilbert followed her close.

Mrs Rachel couldn't help but smile at the picture they were.

"Now, my child, I know how eager you are to see her," she spoke directly to Anne, silently resolving to give her full attention to Gilbert after this first part of business had been properly dealt with. "And I also know full well that you won't give it a rest, nor will you get any, until you do and perhaps until you spend enough time with her to ease your consciousness a little. For that reason, I am going to allow it. You may go to Marilla now and you may sit with her for a while – but I still expect you to leave the post when I come and tell you so. I hope I made myself clear."

Anne, who during that speech had seemed to be preoccupied with everything but it, from the tears that welled in her own eyes to the new embroidery Dora must have left on the bench, turned abruptly at her words and nodded readily, adding a small smile she hadn't known she'd be able to offer.

"Of course, Mrs Lynde," she said hastily, her eyes darting from the older woman to the stairs that lead to Marilla. "Thank you so much for allowing all that. And for letting us in so late at night," she added with another smile after a short, hesitant pause.

"Well, now, I could hardly have left you both waiting out there until morning," Mrs Rachel answered a little harshly. "Now, if you please, Miss Anne, stop lingering around here and go where you wanted to go. I am giving you an hour and not a moment more, and I'll see to it personally that you go to bed immediately after that."

"I will," Anne promised earnestly and almost jumped towards the noble lady, embracing her fiercely and mumbling her thanks with the utmost sincerity. Then she pulled away and forced another smile, before darting towards the staircase, impatient to finally see for herself how great was the danger that threatened a life so dear.

She stopped in the midst of it, her gaze shifting to the man she seemed to have forgotten for the few moments that had just passed. She opened her mouth to speak; yet, her voice failed her. But her eyes spoke to him, with all the recognition and thankfulness and after a moment she managed to mouth the words as well: a simple 'thank you' thank could go be unnoticed.

Gilbert saw the attempt; he bowed his head and smiled in acknowledgement of it.

Anne tarried no longer after that.

"With all due respect, Mrs Lynde," Gilbert said in a hushed voice after the last of her steps had died down behind the thick wooden door of Marilla's bedroom. "Are you quite sure this is a good idea? It has been a rather long journey, what with walking all the way from Carmody… And I know from Anne herself that she didn't exactly rest last night. I'd say she needs her sleep more than she is willing to admit."

"Well, then that would be nothing new at all," Mrs Rachel answered with a glint in her eye, smiling weakly. "Anne has always been rather obstinate in that respect, not that she's particularly compliant in any other. But you see, Gilbert, if I had ordered her to go to her own bed now, she would have just lay in it, thinking of everything she thought she should be doing instead, not to mention her worrying a great deal too much. No, Anne must be with Marilla now; that's the only way to make her feel tired and calm – and the worst that can happen to her in the process is that she'll fall asleep in a very uncomfortable chair."

"If you put it that way," Gilbert mustered his answer and then, remembering that he still held Anne's suitcase in his grip, he put the item carefully on the table and cleared his throat. "I better leave it here, before I forget about it and carry it with me to our farm – the last thing Anne needs right now is to worry about her supposedly lost luggage. Would you please bid my goodbye to her and… And if you don't mind, I would like to visit tomorrow as well, possibly in the morning?"

Mrs Lynde arched an eyebrow at him, even though neither the sincerity nor concern reverberating in his voice was lost on her.

"Why, Gilbert Blythe, isn't escorting the girl enough of a task for you?" she asked with a slightly derisive, though warm-hearted smile. "Do you also feel the need to aid her here?"

Gilbert made no immediate answer; but the one he gave was careful and undoubtedly thought-through. "I do not intend to come here against your will, Mrs Lynde; if either you or Anne feel that I should stay away from Green Gables, I will do so without protest. But I also know that work is hardly ever finished at a farm and my own experience reminds how much more difficult it is to manage when there's illness in the house. I want to offer my assistance – and I ask you to accept it."

Mrs Rachel nodded, her admiration for the young man's actions and words reflecting on her seemingly never weary face. She had never been the one to shy away from a praise whenever it was due, nor did she believe in concealing her emotions in the way her now sick friend usually did.

Still, she could also be practical to the core and that, combined with her most renowned straightforwardness, was enough to make her cut off her own musing and return to the matter at hand.

"Well, I don't see why I should not," she answered matter-of-factly. "Heavens know there is more than enough to do around here, even with Anne being back to help with some of it. So yes, Gilbert, I will take on your offer; I obviously can't speak for Anne on that matter but I very much doubt she will have anything to say against it after she has allowed you to come here with her in the first place. And I don't doubt your presence will do her good, hopefully distracting her from worrying over Marilla, at least from time to time."

Gilbert gave her a half-hearted smile. "I can't claim to have much influence over her but I promise to do my best, Mrs Lynde, with whatever work you assign me."

"There, there, you incorrigible altruist," Mrs Rachel waved her hand at him with a smirk. "We will discuss the details first thing in the morn, when we know more about both Anne's and Marilla's states. And we will do it as soon as you have got up from the bed here, young man, for I am not letting you out of this house before morning, for sure."

He stared at her for a few moments, clearly struggling to make his tired mind cooperate as he tried to comprehend the offer – the order, more like – Mrs Lynde had just pronounced.

"Mrs Lynde, I couldn't possibly…" he attempted to contradict her, only to be shushed with another impatient wave of her hand.

"You can and you will," she cut him off imperiously, as if he had been the same eight year old boy she had once caught setting a prank meant for her. "You have brought our girl back safely and that itself is enough for me to insist on you staying for the night. Besides, I won't have your mother cast it on me how inhospitable Green Gables folks are. Matthew's room is still unoccupied, and I believe you took at least one change of clothes with you, so I'd say it will all work for us just fine."

Before Gilbert had managed to utter a words, she turned on her heel and set towards the said room, leaving him no choice but to follow her docilely wherever she wanted him to. A wooden door creaked when Mrs Lynde opened it, revealing a small but neatly kept room, as inconspicuous as the man who had once occupied it.

Mrs Lynde let out a long, wistful sight.

"So many years and all they've done was store a few old boxes in here," she said, shaking her head. "It's no chamber but you will be able to get a good rest here all the same."

"Thank you," was all Gilbert trusted himself to say, still slightly bewildered by the idea of staying in this particular household for the night. He left Mrs Rachel at the door frame, walking towards the bed, and put his satchel on it.

"You will find the sheets in the first drawer – I put them back there last week as the first step of preparing this room for Davy. I trust you can make your own bed," she announced and then, ignoring the affirmation on Gilbert's part entirely, she threw in, "It was very good of you to bring her home, Gilbert."

The young man winced, surprised with this final addition and then winced again, trying unsuccessfully not to think of what other home he wished to bring Anne to. But he managed to school his features enough for the sake of their talk and answered evenly, "I really wouldn't say so. It was nothing a friend wouldn't do."

"A friend, yes," Mrs Lynde agreed. "But I'd think it more challenging for a man truly in love."

"Well, I have never understood the idea of separating the two."

His tone was light when he voiced this most painful of truths, even though he was sure it would not fool the elderly lady any more than it could fool himself. Mrs Lynde only smiled a little sadly at him and left with her wishes of good night.

Gilbert's thoughts followed her as she went upstairs, ready to drag Anne away from Marilla's side and make her go to sleep as she had promised she would, not so many moments ago.

As he lay down in the old bed, he resolved he would do everything in his might to help them get through this nightmare in the least sorrowful way. He would be there for them, he would be there for her, asking for nothing but her permission to assist her, forgetting the hardship and hurt that had made them drift apart, if only for those few upcoming days; forgetting his own excruciating affection which he had been trying to eradicate for the past twenty six months.

And yet, as he lay there, he could not help but think of how far sharing a roof with Anne Shirley was from sharing a home with her.