Chapter 11

New Year's Eve found Gilbert in the comfortable Winston household, the fire-lit rooms filled with guests. To Penny's delight, her mother and father had brought their youngest brother to Four Winds, and she had barely been able to sit down for excitement since they had arrived. Gilbert was included with ease in the family; Andrew's introduction of him as a young doctor from Montreal was sufficient to make him a welcome addition to the family party. Mr Winston was a round, jolly fellow, who was happy to discuss Montreal's beauties with Gilbert at length, while a wildly excited Lizzie ran from room to room while Penny served tea, making sure that all under her roof were content. Andrew was taking a short break from the heat and chatter of the warm sitting room, and his mother stepped into his study to find him lounging on the sofa.

"Really, Andrew, you couldn't remain with your guests a little longer?" she scolded, smoothing the lock of blonde hair that fell over his forehead.

He sat up, brushing it back with an aggrieved air. "Mother, I only stepped out a few minutes ago, you know that."

She tut-tutted, and seated herself on the horsehair sofa, her elegant yellow gown seeming to glow in the dim room. "We're only here for a few days, Drew."

He smiled then, and put down the paper he had been perusing. "I know, Mother. And I'm thrilled that you could all come- Penny's been missing everyone."

His mother grimaced. "Andrew, do listen, now. Have you given any thought to what I suggested?" Mrs Winston asked candidly.

Andrew sighed, having known this was coming. "Mother, my work is here-"

"And your family is not, dear." Andrew went to speak, and his mother held up her hand. "And of course you have my granddaughter with you. But the whole family could be there for you- Lizzie could be playing with her cousins, your nieces and nephews!"

Andrew shook his head. "I came here for Madeline-"

"And I honour that. But darling Maddie is no longer here," his mother said softly. "She would want you taken care of again."

Andrew sighed, and shook his head. "Mother, I'm just not prepared to leave Four Winds at this time."

Mrs Winston looked at her son with regret in her eyes. She could see there was no point in arguing, and at last nodded. "I do understand, dear." She fixed him with a stern eye. "I worry about you, Drew."

He laughed then. "Mother, I swear that I'm perfectly well. My practice is growing, and Lizzie is doing well at school. We're happy here."

Mrs Winston's shoulders dropped. She had expected that he would say no, however she couldn't help but shoot him a pleading look.

"And there is no young lady here who has caught your eye?" she asked, making Andrew roll his eyes. "If there were, I shouldn't worry so."

"No, Mother. Look, I might wait till Lizzie grows up and leaves me- I promise that I'll try and get remarried then," he teased.

His mother stood then, with a cross look. "Oh, very well then."

Andrew laughed. "If you're going to worry about someone, worry about Penny or Jackson."

"I am worried about Penny, dear," she said calmly, making him sober in an instant. "She's lonely here."

Andrew sighed. "I know that, Mother."

She took her son's hand in both of her own, her look gentle. "I want you all happy, Drew, I want you to find love again- and I want Penny to be adored like I am by your father. Not settling, or only doing what she thinks she is expected to do. And darling, I believe that she wants to come home. Please, promise me that you will consider moving back to Montreal, for all of your sakes." Andrew stood up then, coming to embrace his mother. She smiled as her tall son rested his head against her shoulder for just a moment, and gave him a mischievous look. "Now, dear; it's time for you to rejoin your guests. Your father was horrified to find that Doctor Blythe never made time to see the Notre-Dame Basilica while he was living in Montreal, and was busy telling him all about it when I left them. We'd better go and rescue your friend."

Later that night, Andrew and Gilbert stood outside on the front porch, and Gilbert watched the starlight while Andrew busied himself blowing smoke rings with his cigar. The winter night was crisp, and Gilbert drew in a deep breath, enjoying being outside the warm house.

"You can still change your mind, you know," his friend said, holding out another cigar.

Gilbert chuckled. "My father always smoked- still does, in fact. I never cared for it."

Andrew raised his eyebrows. "Then how did you celebrate your graduations?"

Gilbert shrugged, with a grin. "I tried one after Medical school. I couldn't finish it."

"Quitter," Andrew said with a grin, before throwing himself into one of the chairs on the porch. "So what did you do after Redmond then? Something wild, I assume; a young college lad on the mainland such as yourself."

Gilbert sat down across from him, his face sheepish. "Ah- well, I believe rather a lot of alcohol was involved."

This made Andrew choke with laughter. "Really? You?"

Gilbert relaxed with a grin, his feet resting on the porch rail. "It was a rough night. I was violently ill, too- although that could have been typhoid on its way." He looked out on the calm street, a slight smile on his face at the sound of laughter coming from Andrew's nearest neighbour, and a piano several doors over. All around were the sounds of celebration, the end of the old year, the beginning of a new one.

"So, any New Year's resolutions for you?" he asked Andrew lightly, as they sat.

He was surprised to see a shadow cover Andrew's normally cheerful face. "Not exactly a resolution," he said slowly. "But I need to do a better job with the family."

Gilbert frowned, not understanding. "You're already doing a good job. Lizzie's happy and healthy, and Penny seems content enough."

Andrew rubbed his forehead with a sigh, his mother's words niggling at him. At last, he spoke. "Actually, I think Penny wants to go home," he said baldly. Gilbert could not really be surprised at that and nodded. Andrew tapped his cigar on the edge of his chair in a way that would have made his sister scold and studied the elegant shoe that rested on his knee thoughtfully. "She's given Lizzie and I four years- and I don't want to see her lose her own chance for happiness." He folded his arms and spoke slowly. "Gil, can you think of a reason- any reason- why I shouldn't find Lizzie and I a housekeeper and give Penny the chance to return to Montreal?"

Gilbert was silent for a time, and at last, he met Andrew's eyes in regret. "No. I can't."

There was a lull on the porch for long minutes after that, and at last Andrew sighed. "Well, I won't pretend that I'm not sorry."

Gilbert only nodded. He knew that Andrew didn't blame him- but he had been correct. Penny deserved a good deal better than half the heart of a man. He was fond of Andrew's sister, but fondness wasn't enough to offer a woman. If he was honest, it would never have been enough for him, either.

As the two men sat in silence, Gilbert pulled his dark grey scarf around his throat, looking out onto the moonlit night. It was what Anne had once called a perfectly white night- hadn't she insisted on walking through evenings like this back home in Avonlea? There was a curious look on his face then. She'd been on his thoughts to a fairly ridiculous degree since he had returned from Avonlea. Was she well? Had she gone back to the house again, perhaps this time with Diana? He gave himself a little shake to clear his head and studied the way the snow lay along the bare branches of the trees.

Some revolution had taken place in him of late. As he had gone about his work that week, he had found his focus changing, almost without realising it. She'd reminded him, he supposed, of the world that was around him. It had been that way so long ago- she'd pointed out the things he hadn't seen- the child who wanted his attention, the nuances of a story that he'd missed. They'd become an excellent team over the four years they had spent together. He smiled retrospectively then. She'd needed his focus back then- he'd needed her ability to see the details that he would have barreled on without. Lately, he'd found himself lifting his eyes from his work, noticing the broader world that he was a part of here in Four Winds.

He looked across at Andrew, who had laid his head back on the chair with a contented look.

"So where will you look for a housekeeper?"

Andrew shrugged. "I guess I'll see what Penny suggests- although I haven't spoken to her about any of this yet."

Gilbert folded his arms. "She may not want to leave the two of you, you know," he pointed out.

Andrew sighed. "I know. But she can't keep putting herself aside to be here if she wants to go home." He stood then, hearing a call from inside the house, and as each man checked his watch, they realised it was only a quarter of an hour until the new year. Andrew turned to Gilbert with a slight smile on his face. "Eighteen ninety-four beckons." He slapped his friend on the shoulder and grinned at him. "So what kind of year is it going to be for the local doctor and lawyer? Mayhem and scandal for two of Glen St Mary's apparently eligible bachelors?"

Gilbert laughed, then. "I've always been partial to optimism, myself. Let's assume it'll be the best year yet."

It was a bright, clear winter's day when the train pulled into the Glen station with the last chug and hiss of steam. Four months after she had first arrived in the Glen, Anne Shirley stepped off the train and looked around her with bright grey eyes. Seeing several people she knew well enough to nod at, she drew in a grateful breath that took in the scent of the pine trees behind the train station. Four months had altered a good deal in her viewpoint, she thought with a slight smile. The town was familiar now, and there was someone was waiting at home for her. Susan had written that Mr Jones would be collecting her from the station again, and Anne now looked around her in curiosity. Other passengers had been bundled off the platform quickly, and yet there was no Mr Jones.

After a few minutes, she took her bag in one hand carefully and walked toward the ticket office, where she could hear several voices talking. Only feet from the door she halted in some confusion, recognising the owner of the cheerful voice talking with the station master. Eventually, she knocked on the door and stepped in to see an unexpected sight- Gilbert Blythe himself employed fitting a sling to the station master's arm.

"I won't lie, doc, that pains a fair bit," the little man said with a slight groan.

Gilbert tied the knot at his shoulder capably and grinned in sympathy. "I'll give you something for that, but if you will fall off the platform in such a dramatic manner..."

It was then that Gilbert's patient saw Anne. "Miss Shirley, I didn't see you there," Mr Saddler said, as one clammy hand wiped his forehead. At her look of concern, he shook his head. "Nothing to worry about, just a minor tumble."

Anne saw Gilbert turn to her, and her cheeks flushed unaccountably. "Good afternoon, Doctor Blythe; Mr Saddler, I do hope you are alright."

The little man waved the non-injured hand, his smile faint. "Nothing a new pair of spectacles wouldn't have fixed- I missed the step and fell."

Gilbert chuckled. "Glasses wouldn't prevent a dislocated shoulder, Stan. Is someone else coming to help you unload the luggage?"

"Should be here any minute. Miss Shirley, did you need something?"

In Gilbert's presence Anne was uncomfortable stating her need, however, she covered it nicely. "Thank you. Susan told me that Mr Jones was collecting me from the station. I wondered if you had seen him come by yet?"

Mr Saddler looked at Gilbert then. "No, he hasn't been by. I say, Doc, you couldn't drop Miss Shirley off at home, could you? I can tell Eric that she's gone with you instead."

Gilbert nodded easily, ignoring the slight flush on Anne's cheeks. "Certainly. I'll be a few minutes with Mr Saddler, and then I'll be ready."

With a brief hesitation, Anne nodded. "Thank you, Doctor Blythe. If you don't mind, I'll just take a seat outside."

Anne sat down on the little bench outside the office, willing her cheeks to cool. Her smartly shod foot tapped on the ground in vexation, and a frustrated sparkle was in her eyes. Circumstances were just not on her side when it came to Gilbert- she was annoyed that it was always he who seemed to find her in some kind of scrape lately. That this was an exaggeration escaped her, and she raised her hand to the smart grey felt hat on her head, tucking a wayward red curl under the brim again with a scowl. It was her pride, she knew that. She didn't want to be the damsel in distress, she wasn't one. And of course Gilbert Blythe was everything that was courteous, assisting her in whatever way she required- and that smarted. Did he truly see her as helpless now? And yet to protest was pointless. What else could she do but accept it gracefully?

So it was, when Gilbert stepped out of the office followed by the pale but now standing station master, a calm Anne was waiting on the platform. Another gentleman had arrived to assist Mr Saddler with the bags, and Gilbert waved to the gentlemen before he ushered Anne out to the buggy politely.

Within minutes Anne was seated beside him, and Gilbert's mouth curved into a little smile as he looked at her. "So what is it with all of the 'doctor' business with you right now?" he said, startling Anne.

"What do you mean?"

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "I mean the 'yes, Doctor', 'thank you Doctor' business. I mean, I get it from everyone else in town, but it sounds odd coming from you," he said dryly. "You don't expect that from someone who dared you to race from one side of the Haunted Wood to the other."

Anne couldn't resist a chuckle. "I still can't believe that you won."

The Glen St Mary doctor was indignant. "Hey! I won fair and square, Miss Shirley; I was taller and I had longer legs than you."

"And yet I knew the pathways better and I weighed less than you did." At the scowl he gave her, Anne laughed. "I did concede defeat, I just expected that I would win."

Gilbert shook his head. "And yet now you're here 'Dr Blythe-ing' me."

Anne's look was long-suffering. "Gilbert, you would expect that I would use your title when I am referring to you in public."

"I suppose so." He gave her a suspicious look. "To be honest, it sounds a little like you're mocking me."

Anne huffed at that. "For goodness sake, it's a deserved mark of respect. And-" here she paused, suddenly awkward. "I think there would be few who would understand the manner in which we are acquainted. It seemed more appropriate to refer to you formally."

Gilbert nodded, and the sound of the horse clopping along the dirt road was all that could be heard for some time. He broke it then, his eyes carefully on the landscape. "I'm glad I had a chance to talk to you, actually. I wondered if you were alright after last week."

She flushed then. "I am. Thank you for coming after me." He only looked at her, and she gave a slight smile. "At the time I felt I had to go back to Green Gables to confront everything- however when it came down to it, I couldn't do it. It's possible that I might have somehow managed to push everything behind me again."

Gilbert eventually nodded. "I thought you might have been angry at me, to be honest."

"Why?"

He shrugged, vaguely uncomfortable. "No one likes to have their grief to be exposed. For all I knew, you might have resented me for it."

Anne spoke slowly. "No. I had a lot of time to think while I was in Avonlea. And I realised something- that a part of me was still standing at Marilla's graveside." Gilbert gave her a sharp look. "Wherever I was, here teaching or there at Diana's, I wasn't really present. I didn't realise that I never left that moment."

Gilbert paled, suddenly seeing himself standing in the orchard at Patty's Place as Anne walked away from him.

To cover the way his hands shook at the unwelcome memory, he cleared his throat and spoke. "So- so you're not there any longer?"

Anne gave a wry laugh. "Oh, I think I still visit from time to time. I would be foolish to assume that it's all over. But it's- a little better now." She didn't notice his quiet and continued talking absently. "I suppose at some point I need to make decisions about the future."

He turned to her in surprise, and then looked back at the road Hippocrates was patiently jogging down. "With your work?"

Gilbert saw her shake her head, and an unexpected relief shot through him. "No, I believe I'm where I need to be for now. I mean that I need to decide what I will do with Green Gables."

Gilbert looked at her sideways. "Oh. Would you go back there again?"

Anne smiled sadly, as she shrugged her slim shoulders. "I don't know. To be honest, I can't imagine living there again- but to sell it is so final. I don't think I'm ready for that." She turned to face Gilbert suddenly then, her grey eyes narrowed with amusement. "On that note, I had a visitor at Diana's yesterday. Charlie wants to buy the house from me."

At this Gilbert choked in surprise. "You're kidding me."

"Oh no; he told me that he has big plans to modernise it, with indoor plumbing, bay windows and a tennis court, apparently," Anne said brightly. "And he will knock down the trees so that it isn't so isolated from the road, with future plans to sell the surrounding fields to investors."

Gilbert couldn't keep himself from laughing. "Trust old Charles to have a future plan in place." He gave a mock shudder. "Hmmph. Charlie's knees and elbows out on a tennis court- now there's a happy thought." He gave Anne a sharp look then. "You're not going to let him do that, are you?"

Anne's look was telling. "I have every intention of not allowing it- and yet it does seem petty to refuse on that basis. If I decide to sell, and I don't plan to return, what right do I have to dictate terms on how they will use the house?" she asked him dryly.

Gilbert turned down the lane that led to the schoolhouse, pausing to tip his hat at a group of ladies talking on the side of the road.

"None, I suppose- and yet you do have the right to say no to his offer." Gilbert then grinned. "The old apple doesn't fall far from the tree, you know. Charlie's father offered to buy Pinewood while we were preparing to leave for Alberta. He told Mother he would take out all of the unhygienic trees around the house."

Anne laughed. "That bothersome apple orchard, you mean?"

"Of course- you couldn't leave that there."

Rosewood Cottage was in sight now, and Anne looked at it with a smile, seeing the smoke rising in languid puffs from the chimneys. "So your family could have left Avonlea before I even got there, it seems."

Gilbert pulled the horse up at the gate, climbing down to help Anne over the wheel. He smiled slightly.

"If we'd gone no one would have pulled your hair or called you 'Carrots'," he said evenly.

Anne accepted her bag off him, some of the formality they had forgotten returning now that they had arrived at her home. Her eyes were studiously turned away. "Well, I'm glad that you didn't. I can't imagine an Avonlea without you, to be honest."

Gilbert smiled and pulled Anne's suitcase from the back of the wagon. Anne took her stick in hand to walk to the door, and Gilbert came to stand beside her.

"Home Sweet Home," he said lightly. "Now all you have to do is relax and prepare for next week."

She was standing on the step close to him, and Anne pushed a red curl back from her forehead with a surprisingly arch look. Gilbert had stopped, oddly distracted by the movement of her hand, and the way the curl fell down by her cheek again.

"Doctor Blythe, I was ready for next week before I left here ten days ago." She saw the surprised look on his face and smiled mischievously. "I'm rather good at this teaching business, you know. And I'm not sixteen anymore."

Gilbert stood with an odd look on his face at her unexpected teasing. For just a moment he had the crazy sensation that the nice, stable world he lived in had been tipped on its side and immediately righted. The hand that he had been staring at so foolishly moved the new walking stick to the other, smoothing the fabric of her grey travelling suit over her breast and tucking the errant curl behind her ear again. The moment Susan opened the door with a warm welcome for Anne, Gilbert snapped to attention. He courteously placed the suitcase inside the door and turned to face her with what he hoped was a neutral look on his face. She had removed her hat now, and he was caught again looking at her hair- good Lord, what on earth was wrong with him? Sleep, it must mean he needed sleep-

"I trust you will sleep well after today," he said lightly, and then flinched at his own stupidity. Why? Why on earth would he mention sleep to her? Better clarify that- "I mean, that you should rest after your trip." Oh great. That's just great. Tell her what to do, Anne always loved that. Very smooth, Blythe.

Realising the only way to shut his bizarrely uncontrollable mouth was to retreat, Gilbert closed his mouth tightly and doffed his hat in a courtly manner. To his shock Anne laughed, her eyes twinkling. "Now that's a you I haven't seen in years, Gil," she commented. "I would curtsy in response, sir, however, I fear it may unbalance me if I do."

Somehow Gilbert marshalled his wits and gave her a grin. "Well, don't do it just for my sake. You might need to call me to come and fix the damage again."

"I never actually called you last time," she reminded him with a smile. Instead, she placed her slim hand on her breast and bowed slightly. "Thank you for your assistance today, Gilbert. I am grateful."

His last impression of her were those sparkling grey eyes, and as he got himself out of the door, he walked towards his horse feeling unaccountably odd. He had work to do now, he needed to focus. He wasn't a green schoolboy any longer, he was a seasoned university graduate. He had given an old schoolmate a lift home. He'd helped her, saw that she was safe. That was it.

Gilbert went about his rounds that day with a preoccupied air. Mentally taking inventory of the last few weeks; disturbed nights, meals missed, and unexpected happenings. By the time he reached home he had a list of reasons why he should feel strange, things that were accounted for and perfectly logical. He cooked himself a meal and sat in the chair before the fire to read until he was too tired to see clearly. As the clock struck ten that night he climbed into bed and drew the hangings around him, unsettled by the lack of phone calls on this otherwise completely average day.

As he was dropping off to sleep, he realised with a jolt just what had thrown him. With startled hazel eyes that stared into the darkness on this night, he drew in a deep breath in shock. Far from the phantoms he had seen, the likeness that was yet so unlike, he suddenly understood.

For just a moment, he'd seen Anne again.