Timeline - Anne's House of Dreams.
For a shorter narrative, I am combining the events that occur in this book and introducing ideas and characters in a different order. Some characters I am not using at all. It is very helpful to know the events of this book still even if I elect to take liberties here and there.

Chapter 32: Whore

Gilbert Blythe jumped down from the buggy before Davy had it at a complete stop. Davy waved him off with a "see ya in a bit" just as a strong wind forced Marilla's sorrel to turn the opposite direction. Davy barked "haw" to correct the trajectory and tugged the leads with shoulders that now seemed too broad for a boy. Gilbert did a double and then triple take as he watched Davy drive the rig into the sheltering stable. He last saw Davy two months ago, but it seemed like two years. Davy the boy was no more.

He had shot up a few inches like a tall, narrow weed and his once dirty blond hair had darkened into a light brown. Gilbert mourned the chance to bid the child good-bye, but found comfort in getting a sneak peek of Davy the man. He was going to be the solid and sure-footed type, in the same mold as his relative, Matthew Cuthbert, and probably just as kind.

Gil liked the idea of having a peer in his brother and yet, he was really going to miss the little kid that once looked up to him with huge, expecting eyes. But another child would take that place. If brotherhood was any indication, fatherhood was going to be a blast. He walked to the door on that bubble of happiness.

"Dr. Blythe!" Mrs. Lynde said as he stepped across the threshold and into Green Gables.

"Evening, Mrs. Lynde," Gilbert took off his hat and put it on his labeled peg.

Gilbert smiled more pointedly back at the matron, her silvery-gray hair in a soft bun. For a brief second, he felt as if he ought to kiss Mrs. Lynde on the cheek and had she stuck out her chin requesting, he would have obliged.

"Well, don't you have a strut in your step. Married life suits you, that's what!" Rachel's brown eyes twinkled at the same speed of his own.

"You're as outspoken as ever, Mrs. Lynde" Gilbert beamed, though he refused to reward her with any dimple of embarrassment.

Gilbert placed his leather medical bag on the floor to remove his wraps and almost sighed as the "you belong" feeling hit. Marilla Cuthbert was nothing if not consistent in her housekeeping and sparse decoration. Everything was the same, except for... How did Mrs. Lynde greet him again?

"Oh, Mrs. Lynde, I insist you call me Gilbert, just as you always have."

Rachel clucked and waved a hand, "Well now, I suppose I might make an exception just for you and drop the 'doctor' part, but I don't normally abide by such informality, not when someone's earned a proper title." She leaned in and whispered low as if it mattered. "Truth is, I'll never get used to calling Moody MacPherson 'Reverend'. I just can't do it, that's what! It doesn't fit in my head that a boy with such floppy ears could be our Lord's mouthpiece."

Gilbert chuckled as he bent down and picked up his indispensable bag. Everyone he knew had a difficult time referring to Moody as 'Reverend', no matter how many times Moody and his mother insisted on it. The pastor was generally known as "Moo-Reverend" in Avonlea.

"You, however, look the part." She came in closer to inspect his appearance just to be sure.

Gilbert ran his palm over his lips and felt his mustache. "Do I have something on my face?" He was about to check the mirror next to the hat stand.

The widow's expression lit with glee as she gaped. "Oh, it's happened, hasn't it, Gilbert? Well, you sure didn't waste any time, did you?" She picked up his hand and petted it in some sort of congratulatory fashion.

Gilbert backed away from her growing smile. She was no witch, but she did have this innate ability to draw out information. He sought help from statuesque Marilla.

"Gilbert," Marilla's welcome was warm but inflected with surprise. "What brings you to Avonlea? Is Anne here too? Is she outside, talking to trees?"

"No," Gilbert shook his head. "I—"

"Marilla!" Rachel cut him off as she relinquished Gilbert's hand, so she could clap and point. "Don't you see it? The way Gilbert's eyes are. Look close."

"Rachel—let the poor man breathe." Marilla stepped forward to assist Gilbert out of the entryway. Rachel remained stuck to his side like a barnacle on a ship's hull. To congest the foyer further, Davy entered from outdoors bringing Dora.

"This is your surprise?" Dora sourly frowned at Davy as Gilbert pivoted to see the twins. Her face was pink, but not necessarily from the cold.

"Yes!" Davy said and then mouthed, "Who better?"

"Hello, Dora!" Gilbert grinned at her and lifted his bag.

Her eyes regarded Gilbert's pose. From Davy's anxious face to Gilbert's expecting one, she gleaned the reason for his call in no time. She nodded "Gilbert" with an air that would make Anne proud.

"You'll be joining us for supper, won't you Gilbert? I have plenty." Marilla said as they shuffled out of the foyer and into the kitchen. The air smelled of meat and potatoes and Gilbert's mouth watered.

"Well, I mean to only stay a short while. I don't want to impose."

"Stuffin' nonsense," Marilla ushered Gilbert the dining table and pulled a chair. "Dora, please set another place for Gilbert. What brings you by?"

"Gilbert can have my place," Dora said before Gilbert could answer. "I'm not very hungry, may I be excused?"

"No, you may not be excused." Marilla's agitated voice replied. "Gilbert is our guest tonight. We're going to have a nice family supper. Now, please set a place for him."

Dora complied in a haughty manner that burned the air. Gilbert wondered about Dora's behavior. When Davy called to say that Dora didn't seem like herself, and was possibly sick, he thought Davy was mentioning a change in Dora so subtle that only Davy, her twin, could see it. But a dark and dreary cloud hung over her and the discord was palpable as she set his plate down. He gave Marilla a questioning look that went unanswered. Marilla wasn't sure what was wrong with her stable, reliable and resilient girl either.

"Marilla!" Rachel stamped her foot to wake them all. "Gilbert's gone and got Anne pregnant, haven't you?"

"Rachel!" Marilla hoped Gilbert would forgive them all for Mrs. Lynde's rudeness. "Have you lost your mind? What has happened?"

"We all know how it happens." Rachel waddled next to Gilbert and winked, "It really wasn't by magic, was it?"

That did it. Marilla stood horrified as Gilbert's hue turned carroty red. Davy's mouth opened to reveal the dinner roll he nicked from the bread basket. Even Dora paled at Mrs. Lynde's accusation.

"Mrs. Lynde—you're making me blush," Gilbert feigned coughing, trying to cling to the remnants of his secret, but realizing the futility. He felt hot under the weight of their eyes. "Anne must have called and told you when I was on my way. We found out a few hours ago."

Everyone was jubilant now, everyone except for Dora, who kept her balance by placing her hand on the counter.

Mrs. Lynde wore a smile so big, Gilbert made a mental note to speak to her about her lower bicuspids. "You know, Gilbert, I was only guessing! That's what!"

"No!" Gilbert tossed his head back and then laughed. She had got him and got him good. "We weren't going to say anything, and now, everyone knows. Anne will kill me. How did you do that?" Gilbert demanded.

"Simple! I saw you jump down from the buggy. You looked like a cat that caught a mouse and I made a logical guess." Mrs. Lynde rubbed his back in a congratulatory fashion, "There's no shame, Doctor. You and Anne are married now. Bound to happen at some point, I say!"

Dora vanished into the hallway.

"A baby, I haven't knitted booties for years!" Marilla considered, trying to suppress her own joyous reaction with practical thoughts. "I wouldn't want him to have cold feet."

"It's a girl," Gilbert announced. He didn't know why he said that, but, it was like he just knew. "I mean—I don't know for sure, but, I just have a hunch. I haven't even told Anne that yet."

"Is it true?" Davy finally swallowed. He stared up at Gilbert with his youthful, "I want to know!" face. Not more than twenty minutes ago, Gilbert thought he'd never see it again.

Gilbert's hazel eyes twinkled a confirmation. "It's too early to celebrate."

"I'm going to be an uncle!" Davy cried, not listening at all.

After supper, Gilbert asked Dora to follow him into the spare room. He liked this room with the bundling bed. He and Anne had spent many nights there learning how to sleep next to each other with the board guiding their behaviors. The board was put away now. The mattress and squashy pillows were covered with one of Mrs. Lynde's apple-leaf quilts. Marilla's spare room felt close to his own. Gilbert crossed the room and sat on the side of the bed.

Dora stood near the door, looking unsure and exhausted. She barely moved throughout supper. Barely said anything at all to the happy news. She had always been quiet, but now she was drawn into her own world, hurt and depressed. Gilbert didn't know how bad her melancholia was, but judging by her changed spirit, it was debilitating her.

"Dora, how are you? I feel like we haven't spoken for the longest time." He tried to sound chatty and approachable.

Dora was slow to answer him. Her eyes blinked some sort of apology. Gilbert still exuded safety, even if his arrival felt odd.

"You didn't have to come, Gil. I know you're here because of Davy." Dora's voice was soft and controlled, but she said everything with an insistence that threatened to become fierce. Her posture was ramrod straight as opposed to Gilbert's sitting slouch. "Davy...he thinks he knows so much, but he interferes. He shouldn't have called you."

"He's your twin, Dora." Gilbert reminded her of a truth she didn't care to hear. "He loves you, both of your brothers do."

"Gilbert," Dora let some of her posture go, feeling a bit more at ease. "That's very nice of you to say, but, you're really not my brother. And Anne's not really my sister."

"You just try to tell her that." He had her attention. "Anne was very worried when I told her there was this tiny possibility..."

"I lied to Davy," Dora confessed. "There was never a cat bite, or a fox bite, or anything that would give me rabies. I said those things because I was furious. He gave away the only thing we had left of our mother, her engagement ring. So, I pushed him away when he tried to touch me and then made up some dumb reason as to why."

"Wait," Gilbert turned to the wall as if he could see through it and back into the kitchen where Davy was no doubt still eating. "He asked Miss Marin to marry him?"

Dora shook her head. "No, he gave our mother's ring to her, so she might sell it if she had to and run away. He said it gave her a choice when her future looked so uncertain. It never occurred to him that I might need it instead."

"Hence the fight with Davy." Gilbert agreed in part, "Davy should have asked you about it before giving it to her, although his reason was noble."

Dora looked down at her feet. "I wish he had asked me first, because now—well, it's my ring too."

As true as Dora's statement was, it wasn't what she was going to say. It seemed to Gilbert she was going to say her future was uncertain. Gilbert paused trying to work out a reason why. His stomach knotted as he concluded a horrible prospect. Dora's puzzling behavior fit the scenario he suspected. Gilbert's jaw jutted as he hoped he was wrong.

"Why Dora? Why do you need it?"

Gilbert's lips almost carried a smile, enticing her to confide in him. He was listening, trying to understand. It was when he blinked down and then lifted his chin to reclaim her gaze, Dora realized Gilbert understood too much.

"You were going to run away?"

Dora stiffened, her face defiant to his question. She looked to the door and wished herself invisible.

Standing-"Dora, what are you not telling me? You look terrified."

He approached her with an open hand and she took a step back, almost tripping on the hem of her dress.

"Gil," Dora raised her hand up to him, "Stay back, please."

"Let me read you," Gilbert begged, now convinced that his horrible assumption was true. He steadied his voice as he spoke. "My powers won't hurt, I swear. My hand will get warm, but that's it. I promise. Let me help. Please? I came all this way. Let me go home knowing all is well. I don't need to be a witch to see something is very wrong, Dora."

It pained him to see her regard him with fear. Where was the little, pig-tailed girl that hugged him during a thunderstorm because Anne's arms were full of Davy? That was their first meeting, Gilbert had called on Anne and found himself trapped at Green Gables until a deluge ended. Even back then, he had gotten the too serious Dora to smile.

She turned away and reached for the knob. Now that her back was to him Gilbert allowed his face to fall. How could he make her see he loved her as a brother should? He told her about his magic and she wasn't telling him her secret.

"Dora, you're not being fair to me. Please, give me a chance, like I gave you one."

Dora's hand was on the knob, but she let go of it as she looked back at Gilbert.

"What do you mean I'm not fair?" Dora quizzed. It was a strange accusation. She thought she was more than fair. She was always last in everything.

"I told you I had supernatural powers. If the wrong person learns that, they can make my life very difficult. And that's happened to me too. And, it wasn't so long ago, I would have been burned at the stake for witchcraft. I trusted you, please, won't you trust me?" Gilbert swallowed. "Please?"

"Davy told you to tell me." Dora retorted and then she considered the door once more. She eyed the handle, indicating she wanted to be excused.

"It was Davy's idea," Gilbert acknowledged. He walked around her and placed his hand on the doorknob and cracked the door open, showing her that she was free to leave if she really wanted to. Gilbert added, "Dora, I never meant for Davy to find out. That wasn't my choice. But you're different. Special even! I chose to tell you. Out of everyone that knows I'm a witch, you, Dora Keith, are among the very few that know because I wanted it. I picked you, Dora. Does that mean anything to you at all?"

Dora stared back at Gilbert as he swung the door a little wider, but now she couldn't move. After a few beats, Gilbert shut the door and held out his hand again, asking her to take it.

She did.

The first thing Gilbert noticed was Dora's elevated heartbeat. It was quicker than he would have preferred. He told himself if she were truly scared, that might be enough to escalate her natural pulse. There was no rabies or any infection. He didn't see anything physically wrong. Yet, his suspicions were confirmed as his magic probed deeper. She carried the separate energy of a child. A boy whose energy tickled him back, as if saying, "Hello Uncle Gil". A beautiful and happy boy, only...

Gilbert's face cracked with concern because it was worse than he feared. Rather than let Dora see his reaction, he wrapped his left arm around her and pulled her into his embrace. He let go of her hand to complete his all-encompassing hug. He didn't know how to tell her. Sometimes, he hated being a doctor.

"Dora, I think you know some of what I'm about to tell you." Gilbert found his voice as Dora lost her composure.

"Please don't," Dora spoke onto his buttons and then muttered. "I know what you're going to say. I know and... Oh, I'm so ashamed of myself. So ashamed."

"Don't be ashamed," Gilbert asked of her. "Work the problem. I'll help, alright?"

Dora pulled out of his hug and used the back of her hand to dry her cheeks. Water still brimmed in her eyes, but she nodded, trusting him completely now.

"Have you told Ralph?"

Dora's reaction caught him off guard as her spine melted away and she headed to the floor in a crying heap. She quaked at the mention of her lover. Gilbert saw enough in medical school to know violence was a component in many relationships. Gilbert lifted her with his own strength. He had already made up his mind to call the Charlottetown constable to have Ralph thrown in jail if he harmed her.

"Listen, Dora, there's nothing you can't tell me. You know that, right? You're always safe with me." Gilbert kept nodding his head and until he saw her mirror his gesture. He supported her sides and asked the dreaded question, "Ralph, didn't force you, did he?"

"No."

Gilbert breathed easier.

"So, you two made love. It was consensual?"

Dora nodded.

"You have to tell him."

"He knows." Dora whispered, "I went to Charlottetown to tell him at his boarding house." Dora bit her lip and inhaled through her nose, building her strength. Gilbert felt her hands grip his forearms for support. "He said he couldn't be the father. He said..." Dora trembled again and Gilbert had her sit on the bed. He squatted before her and waited for her to continue.

Whispering too, "What did he say?"

"He said that he timed it right and I couldn't be..." Dora shook her head, confused. It was a mystery to her. "I don't understand, it's Ralph. Only could be Ralph."

"Dora, I believe you. We'll go back, and I'll explain it to him. I'll make him see."

"No!" Dora stood with a suddenness that nearly toppled Gilbert. "I'm not going back. Do you hear me? He said..."

Dora hitched her breath and let a few fat tears drip down her agonized face.

"Just tell me," Gilbert encouraged. "One time—just say it one time and have some peace. You deserve some peace."

Dora squeezed her eyes shut and formed the word on her lips, a word that made her nauseated. She had to force the word out of her body and was louder than she meant.

"Whore."

Now Gilbert started to shake with revulsion and anger. "He said what?"

Dora sobbed, "He called me that, Gilbert. Ralph said I was a whore."

Gilbert put his hand over his mouth, physically holding back the curses he wished to chant. He was a doctor too, he knew how to hide the body. After the shock dissipated, he reached for his sobbing sister, and said, "It's not true, Dora." He massaged her shoulder and a second later, she volunteered herself to his sheltering hug.

"I've got you, it's alright," Gilbert echoed the words of their first encounter. "This will pass, I promise you."

"He dumped me, Gil. He thinks I've been sleeping around. He was so angry with me, so angry." She cried into his ear. "I loved him so much, but when he called me that, I just wanted to curl up and die."

"No, no, no, Dora." Gilbert's hug tightened. "You can't die. It would break my heart. It's not true. It's absolutely not true."

"It's sort of true." She pulled back a bit to see his face. "I seduced him during your wedding."

"Is that where you were?" Gilbert didn't bother to push his tears off his face, letting the salt stain his palette as they rolled into his lips. "I wondered where you went to. So did Anne. She was going to give you her bridal bouquet at the end of the ceremony. She wanted to surprise you."

Dora wailed as she understood what might have been, all she wanted that day was a bit of recognition and now her life was a mess.

"Dora, that doesn't make you that word Ralph called you," Gilbert reassured. He was a little shocked still, but he had learned when he taught school it was the quiet ones you had to watch out for. "You were lonely, weren't you? And Ralph, a boy you've loved for a very long time was there. It's all very understandable."

"I'm sorry, Gil. Oh, gosh, I'm so sorry. Please tell Anne, I'm sorry." She pleaded at Gilbert with the saddest face he ever saw. "I would have been so proud to receive those flowers. Forgive me."

"I forgive you and I know Anne does too. Dora, you're a human being, capable of all sorts of mistakes."

Gilbert handed her his handkerchief and had her sit down again. There was something he still needed to tell her as her doctor, and then, the worst of it would be over.

He didn't get the chance. They heard Marilla and Mrs. Lynde shouting "Davy" at the top of their lungs on the other side of the wall. A moment later, the house vibrated from the heavy, oak door slamming shut.

"Oh God," Gilbert said, remembering how Davy could be impetuous. "Dora, you don't suppose that Davy was eavesdropping, do you?"

"I... I wouldn't put it past him."

Gilbert rose, crossed the room, and stuck his head out the door to hear what the ladies were saying.

"Rachel, what happened?" Marilla's voice boomed from the parlor. "Davy loaded Matthew's pistol and ran out of the house saying he's going to kill someone. Where's he going?"

"Marilla," Mrs. Lynde bewildered voice overtook the air. "All I know is he was waiting and waiting for Gilbert to get done examining Dora. I was busy putting up the dishes. I wasn't paying attention. He marched through the kitchen and headed straight for the gun locker."

Gilbert shut the door. He didn't want to leave Dora in such a raw and fragile state, but he was the only one physically capable of stopping Davy. Her eyes were red from crying and he wanted to stay with her and give her some protection from a questioning Marilla and Mrs. Lynde. But Davy complicated the situation and weighing his options, he prioritized what he had to do.

"Dora—Davy's going after Ralph, right now, with a gun." How much did Davy overhear? "I must stop him… I'll use my second body. It will go quicker."

Dora stood as Gilbert approached the bedside. She wanted to ask what he was doing as he took off his shoes and lounged. The curiosity of his actions paired with the urgency in his voice was a sobering puzzle.

Gilbert explained. "I can project myself across space, but, I'm asking you, watch my dormant body and make sure no one wakes me up."

to be continued