Special thanks to MrsVonTrapp for the beta read.

Timeline - Anne's House of Dreams. Jump ahead a week or so to December 23rd, before Anne and Gilbert's first Christmas together at Four Winds Point.

For a shorter narrative, I am combining 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 even if I elect to take liberties.

Chapter 39: Nearer, my God to Thee

Nearer, my God to thee! Nearer, to Thee!
E'en though it be a cross that raiseth me!
Still all my song would be nearer, my God, to thee!
Nearer, my God to thee! Nearer, to Thee!*

Anne Blythe blinked. The legato phrasing drudged up her grief for Matthew. She might be a married woman now, and a graduate of Redmond College, and expecting her first child, but these happy results only covered a deep-seated heartbreak. The tragic music removed the layers of time and she cried again. Pearls of salt drained down her face and she was forced to use her handkerchief.

She felt the weight of Gilbert's hand on her shoulder and her chest tightened. It was a battle now to stay calm and not hiccup for air. The song muddled in her ears, her pulse was more prominent as she gulped. In some ways, feeling support from her spouse made the effort not to cry worse. Gilbert had always helped her release tough memories.

She nodded 'I'm alright' and his hand left her shoulder and brushed down the length of her arm. Anne gripped Gilbert's hand and she directed her grief towards the mourning mother in the room. Anne and Gilbert had done all they could for Dora. There was nothing more to be done. Perhaps one day, the circle of life would net Dora another child, one she could actually hold and show off to her adoring husband. Dora Keith had never been one with flights of fancy or a great imagination, but Anne hoped it was refined enough that she might experience her baby through that lens.

Just think on, what our children would be like. Gilbert had asked of her one day, long ago.

Anne remembered how Gilbert had crossed her arms and had her envision their child. Would that feeling change, if they inherited a special ability? He had asked so earnestly it had made Anne nervous at the time, but her answer held, as firm and certain as a sunrise. Magical or not, she would adore her children. As long as there were many children to love, she would be happy.

Anne's thoughts diverted in prayer for them as she considered Dora's low bun. There was nothing more tragical than to lose a baby. Water welled once more as her grief pointed to the nephew that never was. Her ears opened to the room and she discovered she wasn't the only one affected by the aching hymn.

Dora's unsteady alto cut in and out. Her choking sobs at war with her desire to sing. Dora had such a pretty voice too. She normally led the congregation. Today it wasn't clear and warm or enviable, but breathy in a way that made the fine hairs on Anne's arms stand. Her high notes sounded more like a wail. Even Mrs. Lynde sniffled in the far removed corner, her guarded curiosity conquered by the context of the hour.

Marilla remained silent and unmoved. Anne knew Marilla's ways. Her former guardian moved her lips to the words of the song and closed her ears to the music. She would not permit the hymn to transform her heart, whereas the rest of the womenfolk were adrift.

Anne wrapped her arm around Gilbert's waist for a comforting hug as they were dismissed. She'd have to make his affectionate squeeze last the rest of the afternoon. He was leaving soon on a series of errands. Helen Blythe and her wife, Katherine Brooke, were to be collected from the depot and delivered to the Moore's. Gilbert needed to introduce them to Owen Ford who was still in residence. Leslie and Dick Moore were gone for the holidays. They were visiting family. Anne asked if, in their absence, their rooms might be available for their guests. Leslie needed the money, so an arrangement was made.

Davy grew restless and paced around the chairs, politely checking in on the women as the reception proceeded. He fetched water for his sister and Mrs. Lynde. He checked on Anne as she worked the room with a tray of cookies. Anne had explained to him that she was not feeling dizzy at the moment, that there was a reason for her vertigo, which, they would explain later on, but he still monitored Anne's movements with the same careful eye Gilbert wore. And like Gilbert had done many times, she let Davy feel the firm spot with the palm of his hand. That had made him smile and catch his breath.

When prompted, Davy brought the Cuthbert Bible from Marilla's room as Dora thanked the Catholic minister. The deacon was happy to sign the entry that Marilla had made for Keith C. Andrews. The heirloom bible would show future generations Dora's infant son was part of a bigger family. That he had been wanted, loved, and would be missed. The deacon's signature alongside the funeral date added legitimacy. It was the best headstone they could assign.

The service had been a comfort. It didn't matter that Mrs. Lynde had said 'heresy' during the Ave Maria. His perspective on Holy Scripture was different. Deacon Ferris had preached not of predestination, but of God's graces and his ability to forgive all sin. Davy, in particular, responded to his statement, "Jesus died for sinners and not the righteous." Anne happened to be watching him at that moment. Davy had entered her home a sullen shadow, but the worry he bore lifted to the lesson preached.

Mrs. Lynde cornered Gilbert after Deacon Ferris left. She wanted to know why of all things he asked a Catholic to preside.

"It was a professional courtesy," Gilbert didn't feel like Mrs. Lynde needed to know the finer details. "We've gotten to know each other as we crossed paths at the homes of the sick."

"And there are no Protestant ministers available?" Rachel's brown eyes rolled as she tutted, "Did you even try?"

"I knew he would preach with kindness and understanding. It is a very difficult subject." Gilbert answered, his head turning to see Dora talking with Marilla. "Dora needed someone that believed she lost a baby and not a pregnancy. I am sorry you didn't like him."

"Well, I liked him." Davy cut in before Mrs. Lynde could respond back. Her back and chest pulled up from surprise, like a marionette being moved by the puppet master. She supported her breast from the shock with her splayed out hand.

"He said that we can't know God's ways. That's the most honest thing I've heard from a minister. We can't know if we go to heaven or hell. I don't care what Reverend MacPhearson says. If God exists, and that's a big if, He'd be fair about saving our souls."

"Lawful Heart, Davy Keith!" Mrs. Lynde fanned herself. Her cheeks were pink as if she used rouge. Davy's rudeness reminded Rachel of a certain, red-headed girl. "You won't go to Avonlea church anymore, so I won't hear your opinion about the Almighty and His decrees." With a horrified shudder, Rachel added, "Catholics aren't even Christians. Everyone knows that. They don't read the Bible. They do whatever their Pope says instead."

"I don't believe you, Mrs. Lynde." Davy glared back. The sternness of his stare added volume to his words. "Miss Marin is about as Christian as they come and she's going to become Catholic. All the churches in Cuba are Catholic. It can't be that bad. Mrs. Marin wouldn't let her get involved with the wrong people. She's so protective of her. Too protective if you ask me."

Gilbert looked back and forth between Mrs. Lynde and Davy. His concern was displayed as a single brow above his eyes. Davy had expressed an impatience with church-going before, but went anyway, for the sake of peace. There seemed to be something more underscoring his decision to leave. Like Fred Wright had once done, he was testing the belief system he had been taught and decided he didn't need it anymore.

Gilbert squeezed Davy's shoulder and Davy snapped out of his argument with Mrs. Lynde.

"Davy, did Marilla tell you that you'll be staying at the light with Captain Jim?"

The way Davy shrugged told Gilbert Marilla had said nothing about it. Davy was about to object to his room assignment when Gilbert explained.

"I thought it would be nice for you two to become acquainted. Captain Jim can tell you all about Cuba. He even has a map he can show you."

Davy had a hard time suppressing his smile. His argument with Mrs. Lynde was forgotten.

"Really?"

"Yes, Captain Jim's spent many winters in Havana and he loves talking about his adventures." Gilbert steered Davy away from Mrs. Lynde as he spoke and to the front entrance, where his winter wraps waited. "Unless you would prefer to sleep on our small couch. I can bi-locate and tell Captain Jim there's a change of plans."

"No, no," Davy shook his head. "I'd like to meet him."

"Alright," Gilbert considered Davy as he adjusted his overcoat. Marilla had mentioned during her last visit Davy seemed off, and seeing his brother behave rudely with Mrs. Lynde, Gil had to agree. "Will you tell me what's wrong later? It's not like you to stop going to church when you know how important it is to Marilla."

"Nothing's wrong." Davy scowled, but as Gilbert frowned his disapproval, Davy clarified some of his thoughts. "I miss Millie. I feel like I'll never see her again."

Gilbert knew Davy was sincere, if incomplete in his answer. Complex problems took time to unknot and Davy seemed to have a huge tangle. Gilbert promised himself that he'd find time to spend with Davy. He wished he could take Davy with him on his errand, but he needed the space in his sled for the women and their luggage.

"I'll be back as soon as I can to take you over." Gilbert donned his hat, tipping it slightly as he grabbed his bag. "Davy, I'm so happy you're here. Hang tight."

*/*/*

"He wasn't a priest," Anne repeated.

She passed a tray of cookies to Mrs. Lynde and Mrs. Lynde stopped lamenting long enough to select a perfectly round sugar cookie, one covered in white icing.

"He's a deacon. He even has a family with lots of children. Six boys and two girls. They own a piece of land not far from here. Gil met Deacon Ferris during his house calls to Rhoda Allonby. We like him, even if the rituals are different."

"Oh Anne," Mrs. Lynde said as she snapped out a half moon from her treat. "I have no issue with his profession. Farmers are a prayerful lot as a rule, but the manner of his devotion. Latin! Praying to saints! Worshiping Mary! It was all very superstitious."

"Superstitious?" Anne laughed. How could such a complaint touch them? "Gilbert is a witch! We might know something about the supernatural around here."

Mrs. Lynde grumbled at Anne's reminder but remained firm in her opinions.

"Well, I don't know if my heart can take another shock like that." That was the greatest offense of all, the fact that Rachel had never seen it coming. She believed she was more cosmopolitan and her actions proved her otherwise.

Marilla approached their conference and was greeted with, "I still can't believe you, Marilla Cuthbert. What were you thinking of thanking him for the service! What would your Papa say?"

"My papa's long dead and I'm pleased to have my own opinions. I thought it was a wonderful service for Keith. " Marilla enunciated her words proud of her scandal. Her father had been zealous in his condemnation of Catholics, such that Marilla often feared he was not part of the elect. He hated the French so much. He said their forced removal from Acadia was fortunate.

"Egad!" Mrs. Lynde couldn't believe what she was hearing. She finished her sugar cookie in a gulp. "Well, this has been a day of disappointments, mark my words. First Anne, you tell me Dr. Felder won't be visiting for Christmas because he has to get back to Baltimore. I was looking forward to seeing him, and now this! I'd sooner be an atheist than a Catholic."

"Mrs. Lynde," Anne waved off the hyperbole Rachel offered with her tray-less hand. "Dr. Felder must return to Baltimore, or, he'll lose his job. And, we definitely don't want that to happen. Not with Dora needing his surgical procedure."

"It's just when he called on Green Gables to make arrangements, he said he was planning to be here. And, Marilla has questions for him about..."

"Shh... Dora's right over there." Anne interrupted.

Rachel's eyes searched the room and found Dora reclined on the sofa. She was playing with Lilly, the three-colored cat. The feline brushed against Dora's leg. Dora reached down to pet the creature, just as the cat skedaddled to another room.

"Well, I suppose those questions could be answered by letter. I just want to know when the draymen are needed."

Anne apologized to Davy before responding to Marilla's strongly put suggestion they should lay down for a nap. Davy would have to just be patient for Gilbert to return.

There was no formula to anticipate the demand on Gilbert's time. He was the village doctor. The modern knight ready to slay the dragon of disease.** That meant prioritizing his patient's health over his family's convenience. Davy nodded in agreement as Anne cited several instances where she had waited for him all night. Gilbert would return, but there was no point in setting a watch by it.

Davy visited with Dora at first, but her interests were and remained far removed from his own. More than once he peered out the window and to the lighthouse. It wasn't that far away, even in a snowstorm, he could make it there safely. He could just go over there, knock, and say, "Hi Captain Jim, I'm Davy Keith. Gil's sort-of-brother and Dora's twin. I'm staying with you tonight." That solution would have worked in his single-digit days, but he was no longer a precocious child.

Mrs. Lynde stayed in the kitchen, earning her keep as Anne's guest, but Davy saw her investigating Anne's scrap pail and bread-box. Mrs. Lynde seemed satisfied with the state of both and put on the yellow apron. At Green Gables, Marilla was the primary chef, but in Anne's kitchen, Rachel could roll back her sleeves and help with the pudding. What did Anne know about cooking for such a large gathering anyway? She had done it many times for her brood. Rachel claimed she missed it.

Dora left for the Moore's to prep the goose for tomorrow's Christmas Eve mid-day meal. With Owen's input, the two homes decided to combine celebrations. Leslie's home was bigger and more comfortable for hosting a crowd. She had the prettiest tableware, courtesy of her mother's expensive tastes. It seemed silly not to use it, and all Owen was asked to do, aside from providing music at the piano, was start the roast at four A.M.

Davy retreated to the barn. The barn was a lot smaller than the smallest stable at Green Gables, but it matched Gilbert's needs. After all, Gilbert was not a farmer with implements to store from the weather. The structure provided necessary shelter for his horse, chickens, and dairy cows. The snug and musty scent enticed him to stay. Davy spotted an iron-gray heater and added some coal to the belly and got to work.

It wasn't that Davy liked to muck stalls and sweep floors. He did them because the task helped his anxiety. His body busied freed up his mind. The real effort was put into puzzling out his worry, looking for a way to escape his guilt. He couldn't stop thinking that he had killed Ralph. Sure, there were caveats surrounding the situation. Gilbert tricked him with his powers, making him think he was shooting at Ralph when really, it had been Gilbert's second body formed to look like Dora's old boyfriend. He didn't know the truth until after he fired two rounds at the decoy. Ralph lived and walked because of this deception.

A happy accident for Ralph but not for Davy. Davy figured he was a murderer. He had wanted Ralph dead for humiliating Dora. Hatred ruled his heart and Satan acted through him. He was damned, had to be. God was gone which made his despair real.

Davy missed Him so much. Which was strange because he never put too much stalk into the Golden Texts and Bible verses he had been forced to memorize, but he had always believed in heaven and hell. It was a comfort knowing his Mama was an angel. Now, he would never see her again. He could only think of one way to fix it.

Davy wanted to apologize to Ralph for his wickedness. If Ralph forgave him, he'd have a second chance with God. But that would take an awful lot of explaining. It would mean telling Ralph Gilbert's secret and Davy had promised Gilbert he'd never fib. He wasn't free to seek out Ralph for absolution. Besides, it was unlikely that Ralph would believe him or even accept his apology. He'd probably think Davy was crazy and laugh at him.

Davy hung the rake back on the wall and meandered to the bench Gilbert used to change his boots. He sat for a moment, remembering to leave a spot for his Miss Marin, but then accepting the fact she wasn't there to join him. His hand even stretched to his side to find her and he pretended for a moment that her tea colored fingers sunk into his palm. Accepting reality, he tipped to his side, lounging over both seats, before rolling to his back.

He draped his coat over his body as he stared up. The rafters had bird nests. The small creatures were almost as fond of his Millie as he was. Millie would know the answer. She knew her Bible better than the preachers, memorizing it because she couldn't read well. He missed her more than he missed Him. Another sin in the count against his case.

He reached into his coat pocket. Down deep, he found it. Millie had sent him a small parcel for Christmas. The envelope was padded, but he could feel beads through the quilted paper. It was a chain or necklace. Davy pulled the package from his coat pocket to wonder over it again.

"Open on Xmas" was the block-print. It was the only instruction next to his name, "Mr. David Keith". There was no "in care of Miss Marilla Cuthbert" on this mailing. That was a curiosity in itself.

He debated if he could really wait two more days and pinched the small lumps. "I wonder what this is?"

A disembodied, yet distinctly female voice said. "Seems like there's an easy way to find out."

A chill trickled down his spine as he sat up and looked for the source. The only other creatures in the barn with him were the two cows and they were busy chewing their cud, nevermind their expressive eyes. He tried to shake off the creepy sensation, but his ears remained on high alert. In the background, but growing louder, he could hear bells pealing. Gilbert was on his way back home. Davy decided that he hallucinated the voice and his heart calmed.

He stuffed Miss Marin's gift back into his coat pocket and went for the barn doors. His ears hadn't lied, Gilbert was coming home and his flamboyant horse pranced to announce it. Davy was ready and waiting and Gilbert drove the sled straight into the shelter.

"Thanks!" Gilbert said over his shoulder as Davy closed the doors.

Gilbert unbuckled Monty, explaining. "It's not that far from the light, we'll walk. I'd rather let Monty rest and warm a bit. It took me longer over at the Moore's than I thought it would and he stood outside in the snow." He rubbed his horse's side. "Sorry, Monty-boy. You're a good horse, too good for the likes of me."

Monty tossed back his head and his bells rung one last time. He turned his long head to Gilbert and shook it to disagree. The horse had an opinion of his master's worth and wasn't afraid to show it.

Davy attended to the leather harness on the other side of the sled. "What happened over there?"

Gilbert's face brightened when he saw Davy's familiar hazel eyes. It was easy to tell Davy his concerns and his jutted jaw relaxed.

"Well, it turns out, the world is a pretty small place, especially when it comes to magic. It seems Miss Brooke and Mr. Ford were already acquainted. It was not a very happy reunion for a few uncomfortable minutes."

Now Davy looked confused and abashed. He was honored to know about Miss Marin's animal charming powers, but knowing about Gilbert's magic, or anyone else's, was still hard.

"Why was it a magical reunion?" Davy asked with trepidation. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

"Oh Davy," Gilbert realized how he had misspoken. Miss Brooke did not want others to know her as a leech. She had been quite vocal about that when confronting her old neighbor, Owen Ford. "I'm sorry, I can't say a thing more about that. I'm going to have to ask that you forget what I mentioned."

"Should I be worried?" Davy was now more puzzled with Gilbert's reaction than his report. It wasn't like Gilbert not to explain himself fully.

"No, not at all," Gilbert said it so convincingly that Davy did in fact, stopped worrying about the bad reunion. "It was Mr. Ford's mother and grandfather, and Miss Brooke's mother that had the dispute. And the reason why there was animosity is more complicated than what I can explain. On the bright side, it's a wonderful chance for those two to settle past hurts."

"I see." The reply was automatic because Davy didn't see at all.

"Now, why are you in the barn of all things?" Gilbert would have grabbed the rake and mucked the stall but could see Davy had done that. "I thought you'd be spending some more time with Anne."

"Marilla forced Anne to take a nap, and I was underfoot. Besides, I find barns peaceful."

"Cows are good listeners," Gilbert gestured towards the bench and they sat down together. "I'm a good listener too. I'd like to prove it. What's troubling you?"

Davy Keith wasn't going to ask Gilbert about his religious crisis, even though he knew Gilbert had joined the Avonlea church back when he was his age. He knew that his questions couldn't be answered with absolute certainty. Gilbert wasn't an authority and that's what Davy needed. Besides, any mention of his damnation might spoil Gilbert's happiness.

"You like being married," Davy said as an afterthought. "I can tell."

Gilbert nodded. A faint smile stretched across his lips. "Yes, I knew I would, but, it's even better knowing that I've planned a future for both of us, and our family. Our little girl is due in June." Gilbert said it with an air of disbelief.

"Congratulations, you're sure it's a girl now?"

"Yup," Gilbert beamed. He would have beamed if it were a boy too. "Anne's already making clothes from an old dress of hers. And, if I ever have time, I'm going to embroider Joy's name to the front of the bib."

Davy tensed up as a thought came across him. It was a very personal question, but one that he and Milty speculated on. Gilbert would know the answer, now that he was going to become a father.

"Gil, what's it... what's it like?" Davy whispered. He looked straight ahead and at the pegged wall. Carpentry tools hung from every height imagined.

Gilbert glanced at Davy for clarification. "What's what like?"

Davy's flush passed beet red and turned purple. He rushed out, "Never mind. Forget I asked."

"Oh!" Now Gilbert's face heated but then his laugh grew into a tease. He felt like he understood his father in a new way. "You want to know about sex!"

"Gil!" Davy rolled his eyes, frustrated. Davy repeated. "I said forget about it. You don't have to answer me."

But Gilbert assured him, "Davy, it's alright. You can ask me. It's normal to be curious."

Davy hesitated to breathe. Ever since Dora had done it, he didn't think it was fair she had an insight he did not. He considered asking Mr. Blythe some of his questions but knew Gilbert would be less graphic in his answers.

Davy exhaled a misty-white puff of air and plucked up his courage.

"I don't want details." Davy said, "But, is it..? Is it, nice?"

God, what a stupid question. Davy let it stand in spite of his regret for it.

The apples on Gilbert's face plumped. "Nice?" Gilbert couldn't quite believe that was what Davy wanted to know and his smile stretched to his ears. "Davy, it's wonderful!"

"I know that."

"You do?"

"I mean, it's what I assume, except, it's not so nice for her, is it?"

"Davy, love is always nice." Gilbert meant to be ambiguous and spoke in sweeping generalities, but changed his tactic when he saw Davy's eyes flare. He was dodging the question. "Alright, the physical part can take a little bit of time to get right, I won't lie to you, but even then, it really is a wonderful moment to be so intimate with the woman you love."

Encouraged by Gilbert's response, Davy felt safe to continue. "But Gil... What does it.. feel like?" His postured dropped the moment he heard himself ask, certain it was too personal.

Gilbert tried to converse naturally. "Well, you're old enough to have some inkling of what it might feel like. Davy, that's perfectly normal too. Nothing to be ashamed about."

"Oh Geez!" Davy put his hands over his ears because he didn't want to acknowledge Gilbert's hint. "You're as bad as your father."

Gilbert laughed, "Dad used to talk about seeds and planting times. He loved making me feel as uncomfortable as possible."

Davy checked Gilbert's face, it was still warm and kind. No line had been crossed.

"He gave me that same speech."

"Dad likes you," Gilbert sighed, thinking of his parents. They declined his invitation to come for the holidays.

John and Geraldine Blythe were in New Brunswick. Helen's father, Raymond, was sick with cancer and would die before summer. Gilbert would have gone too if healing a family member were possible. Blythe magic couldn't help other Blythes, not in normal circumstances anyway.

"He does?" Davy squinted back.

"Sure he does."

Gilbert pushed down the lump in his throat with his affirming nod. He wanted to give Davy a better answer, a fatherly one, but he also wanted to protect Anne's privacy. Bedroom matters weren't bragging points to him.

"To answer your question, the very best part of making love is what happens here." Gil pointed to his head. The mirth in his eyes ended. He was not joking. "And you know a bit about that already."

Davy made a disagreeing face. "I don't think so. I never even kissed Miss Marin, except on the cheek the day before she left. She was crying and it was very wet."

"Davy, let me ask you this. How did it feel when you held Miss Marin's hand, back when it was new?"

Davy glowed a bit as he embraced the memory. "I was nervous, really nervous, but when she squeezed my hand back, I felt so happy. It's odd. Feeling timid and strong at the very same time, and then knowing she likes me too. Her hand in mine, mine in hers."

"And how did you feel when you let her hand go?"

"Like I lost something precious."

"Well," Gilbert's eyebrows wiggled in understanding. "That's exactly what it is like, only, multiplied by a hundred."

to be continued

*Nearer My God to Thee by Sarah Flower Adams, 1841.

**Anne of Avonlea, BBC production 1975 (clips available on YouTube)

"Knight" and "dragon" are paraphrased from Gilbert's proposal to Anne, which was rejected. Anne was pretty harsh, but I can't say I blame her when he said, "Every knight needs his lady-love to keep his castle clean." Yikes!