Chapter 13

In the wake of Owen's arrival Anne was silent, and she drew in a deep breath when Andrew offered to show Owen through the house. Penny was quick to speak to move toward Anne. "Miss Shirley-"

Anne gathered herself together and smiled at her hostess. "This is a home of surprises! And I thought that you were going to call me Anne."

Penny chuckled. "Anne, of course. You must have spent a good deal of time talking with him on the train."

Anne smiled. "It was a long journey, and he was most insistent on finding some distraction for himself, I think."

Penny gave Gilbert a puzzled glance. "Gilbert, do sit down, you make me nervous by standing all the way over there."

Gilbert took a seat just as Lizzie came into the room. The little girl's blond curls bounced on her shoulders, and her blue eyes were wide.

"Aunt Penny, Mr Flibbet did something naughty in papa's study," she gasped, making her aunt groan.

"Oh, that dog… Anne, Gilbert, please make yourselves at home. Dinner may be delayed a little."

When their hostess left the room in a swirl of purple skirts, Gilbert looked across at Anne curiously. "So you've met Four Wind's resident author," he said lightly, not wanting to admit the uneasiness running through him at that moment.

Anne smoothed her black skirt over her knees. "I have," she said calmly.

"Although it appears he didn't really meet you."

Anne gave a wry chuckle. "A lady by herself on a train does not give personal details to strangers, Gilbert, even if they are writers."

Gilbert gave her an amused look. "It appears they don't. You didn't trust him then?"

"I didn't know him." Wanting to change the subject now, Anne stood, moving over to the mantelpiece to look at the figurines there.

Gilbert followed her with his eyes. Without conscious thought, he observed the way she moved more steadily on her feet now.

"You bought a new walking stick," he commented quietly.

Anne turned back to him in surprise. "I did." She hesitated then, a very faint twinkle in her grey eyes. "I managed to find a taller one in Avonlea- and I will admit that you were right, doctor."

Gilbert chuckled. "You just needed more height to support you. How are you handling the cold?"

Anne shrugged slightly with a smile. "I was never sure how it was going to be since this was my first winter outside the hospital. I am slightly stiff in the mornings, however, Susan keeps the house warm for my sake. I think that I'm handling it as well as I could hope to."

His hands deep in his pockets, he moved to join her absently. He noticed Anne looking with interest at the miniatures, particularly at the bird in the gilt cage. A gentle smile was on her face, and he was intrigued. "What is it?"

Her unexpected smile blossomed. "Gog and Magog."

He gave her an odd look. "I beg your pardon?"

She chuckled, then. "The china dogs from Patty's Place. Do you remember them? Gog looked to the right, and Magog to the left. Miss Patty left them in the house because I liked them- and they were white china with green spots." She carefully lifted the bird down in her hand, white china with green wing tips and face. "This bird could easily sit with the two of them- the colours could not be better matched." She placed it back with a smile, not noticing the odd expression that passed across Gilbert's face.

"Do you hear from Stella or Priscilla often?"

Anne turned to him in some surprise. "I do, from time to time. They're both well. Priscilla and her husband live in Saint John now. They came back from Japan when the twins were born."

Gilbert's eyebrows rose. "He was a businessman?"

"A missionary." Anne sat down on the nearby sofa with a smile. "Stella fell in love with Massachusetts when she visited her brother there, and she's been teaching at a Boston boarding school for the past four years." To her surprise, Gilbert joined her on the seat then, his look thoughtful.

"And she's never married?"

She gave a laugh then, her eyes twinkling. "Never say never, Gil. There are rumours of a handsome mathematics teacher at her school." There was a little sigh then. "Stella's Aunt Jimsie died two years ago."

He turned to her, startled. "I'm sorry. I know how you all loved her."

"We did." Anne gave a gentle laugh then. "She swore she wouldn't look after us at all, you know- she said that we were old enough to know how to behave on our own."

She looked up at Gilbert's chuckle. For a moment it lifted the tired expression on his face, and Anne could not repress a short sigh. Every month that passed made her more and more a part of the shore she had come to- and yet closer to the inevitable moment when she would see him marry another. The thought of leaving Four Winds was intolerable- and yet who knew how much she would have to endure if she didn't eventually leave? One day Gilbert would have someone to care for him- as of course, he should- someone to make him rest and bring him laughter- a wife to cherish him, children who would gladden his days.

Despite the warmth of the fire, Anne could not repress a shiver. Penny was sweet- and she would make Gilbert a wonderful wife one day.

Deliberately she drew in a deep breath and packed unsettling thoughts away. She could only take one day at a time.

A flushed Penny was soon in the doorway, inviting the two of them to come to the dining room. Gilbert held out his hand to assist Anne to her feet, the move so natural that neither of them noticed the startled look on Penny's face. She covered swiftly though, and the group were soon assembled around the elegant room.

Nothing could have been more different than Anne's first meal at the house. The conversation flowed easily, and Andrew gave a contented sigh to see his sister talking animatedly with the others, his home full of laughter once more. Lizzie was in her element at the dinner table, keeping Anne occupied with a steady stream of chatter through the meal, despite protests from her father.

"Lizzie, darling, you need to eat your meal if you want to have pudding," he said to his small daughter. He grinned at Anne. "And if you keep Miss Shirley talking all night then she won't finish her dinner."

Lizzie's eyes were huge as she studied her beloved teacher's face. "Then you won't get pudding either."

Anne laughed then, giving Penny a quick grin. "Then you and I had much better start eating, hadn't we?"

Owen Ford watched Anne from across the table with an amused smile. She entertained the little one very well, he thought, and yet he was honest enough to wish she would look at him instead. It was rare that he had to work for anyone's attention, these days. He had been in conversation with Andrew for most of the meal, noticing the people around him as only a writer could. Idly watching Penny's gentle laugh, the way she touched Blythe's arm lightly. He didn't even appear to notice her doing it. That was Blythe, alright, more interested in his work than any woman.

His new solicitor was pushing back from the table, evidently well satisfied after his meal, and again Owen's eyes turned to Anne in curiosity. Here was depth, here was passion, he instinctively felt. The sombre black gown, the severe high collar and long sleeves revealed the school teacher and lady she evidently was- and yet in those eyes was so much more, and in clear defiance of the air of patient grief that surrounded her, the glorious hair that was the colour of a fiery sunset.

She was stunning.

And yet so completely different to what she had been.

Owen's glance flicked across to Gilbert then. He'd already made up his mind when he arrived- there could be no harm in trying to find her again. He only hoped that the Glen St Mary doctor would be more forthcoming with information this time.

Gilbert's experience of the meal had been interesting, to say the least. He'd deliberately tried to keep his eyes from Anne, not wanting to unsettle her, at the same time listening intently to every word he heard her speaking to the little girl.

"And I don't like Jacob McAllister, either," he heard Lizzie say flatly. "He said I was short."

Andrew looked at his daughter lovingly. "You are short, little duck."

"He's only taller because he's eight," an incensed Lizzie spluttered. "It's not fair to be teased about things that you can't help."

Anne felt rather than saw the grin on Gilbert's face, and grey eyes met the hazel ones for a brief second. "Well, sometimes little boys don't know when to stop teasing."

Gilbert coughed slightly at this, much to Penny's consternation.

"You know, Lizzie, I used to get teased in school as well," Anne said innocently, with a smile for the grumpy child.

"But you're not short."

Anne chuckled, along with the rest of the table. "No, I used to get teased about my hair. And I got very cross about it, too."

Lizzie looked up at her teacher in surprise. "But you never get cross- not even when you broke your chalk!"

Anne bent closer to the girl, her eyes twinkling. "I used to have quite a bad temper, Lizzie. And unfortunately, everyone at my school knew about it."

Gilbert had been battling not to laugh, and at this, he almost broke.

Penny smiled kindly at the look on Anne's face. "I can't imagine that, to be honest. You seem very patient to me, Anne."

Andrew grinned. "Not like you when you were little, Pen."

To their guests' delight, Penny openly scowled at her big brother. "I had an older and younger brother who teased me constantly. I'm fortunate that Stephen was too polite join in." She turned to Anne then. "Stephen was always very serious- even as a boy."

Gilbert grinned at his friend. "So you must have been quite the shock to your parents then."

Andrew laughed. "I was. How about you, Ford?"

Across the elegant table, Owen smiled. "Well, as an only child who went to a boy's boarding school, I wouldn't say I got much teasing in." He gave Anne and Penny a warm look. "I certainly wasn't tormenting teachers, or pulling the girls' hair in class."

At this Anne choked a little on her water, her face slightly pink.

"Are you quite well, Miss Shirley?" Gilbert murmured behind his own glass, and when Anne looked across the table at him, his hazel eyes twinkled into her own. Anne looked at him in shock. The incorrigible man was actually teasing her! Anne took a moment to compose herself, but not before shooting Gilbert a warning look that showed she was about to laugh.

Penny smilingly smoothed the napkin over her lap. "I wouldn't suspect that you would, Mr Ford. You and Doctor Blythe are far to polite to get up to the antics that my brother and his chums used to." She turned to Andrew with a mischievous look. "How you became a respectable lawyer, I will never understand."

After the meal, Lizzie insisted on Anne going to see her room, and Penny watched the two of them go with a smile. She busied herself with the tea things, thinking about how pleasant it was to spend time with people her own age for once. For a brief moment she paused, a wry smile on her face. Of course, she was much younger than everyone else- by a good five years, at least. And yet some of the girls she had grown up with were now mothers of bouncing babes, running homes of their own.

Her guests had settled in the sitting room when Penny became aware that Anne was still with the young girl- who should have been in bed by now. Owen and Andrew moved to his study to finalise some paperwork, and Penny put Gilbert to work laying the tea tray while she hustled down the hallway. When Gilbert was done, he looked around him with a frown. The tea was sure to be in the pantry- and yet it wasn't. After a few minutes of looking around the tidy kitchen, he thought it best to simply find either of the Winstons and ask. The wide hallway, he knew, led to Andrew's office. He thought he heard Penny's voice talking with Andrew and moved in that direction.

Suddenly, he stopped, hearing another voice in a nearby room. In curiosity he turned and halted as he saw Anne sitting on Lizzie's bed, talking to the wide awake little girl. She was looking away from him, and for reasons he couldn't name, he watched the pair of them for a time with an odd lump in his throat. For just a moment he let his mind go to places long forbidden. He'd pictured just this, once upon a time. She had been sitting by a child's bed then too, a little one with his hazel eyes and her curly red hair.

Without hearing what they were saying, he saw Anne laugh and bend to kiss her forehead. Carefully she stood then, and Gilbert drew his breath in sharply. He turned and fled to the kitchen, berating himself for the nonsensical excursion into the past. When Penny and Anne came out together, Gilbert was standing by the stove with an odd expression on his face, and Penny looked at him inquiringly.

"Tea," he said sheepishly. "I couldn't find the tea."

Penny shook her head with an amused smile. "You can be just like Andrew, you know, Gilbert. It was on the tray next to the teapot." She turned then, shooing both Anne and Gilbert toward the sitting room. "Honestly, it's time for me to be a proper hostess to you all- one guest is putting my niece to bed, another is laying the tea tray for me. Go on in, I'll call Andrew and Mr Ford and we can all sit down cosily."

Without a word, Gilbert followed Anne into the warm room, and they sat down in the seats they had occupied earlier. Gilbert frowned slightly, feeling oddly unsettled. Something was shifting between the two of them- some line had been crossed, whether they were ready or not. Eight and a half years now since their friendship had been broken. Six and a half since he had last seen her. And now four and a half months since she had made Glen St Mary her home. Surreptitiously he chanced a look at her, to see her gazing into the fireplace, her grey eyes thoughtful. So many questions still remained in his mind about the past- yet it almost seemed impossible to ask, now. Had too much time passed since she had arrived, too much water gone under the bridge? Unconsciously, he let out a sigh. It was too late for them to be what they once were- perhaps the choice to let the past go meant letting this go, as well. There was a twinge in his heart then as the image of his younger self appeared in his mind- the young man who had mulishly fought for her friendship for so long. He knew just what he would say to him. It was this image that made Gilbert chuckle slightly.

Anne looked at him in surprise, and he jumped guiltily as if she had read his thoughts. Gilbert searched for a reason for his involuntary laugh, and gave her a faint grin. "I was just thinking about me being described as too sensible to pull a girl's hair."

Anne sighed, and then laughed herself. "And myself as unlikely to have a temper."

Gilbert was silent then, and suddenly all teasing fell away. "Do you think we've really changed that much?" he asked suddenly.

Anne was startled by this, however, she answered him honestly. "I suppose so." She gave a wry grin, then. "We're supposed to be older, wiser and more dignified, aren't we? I can't imagine you not teasing, though. I still think you can do it."

He smiled. "Maybe I'm just saving it all up for something especially wicked."

Anne chuckled. "Like pulling the hair of the premier when he visits in February?" Much to her pleasure, he laid his head on the back of the sofa and grinned lazily.

"I'll think about it," he said. "What about you?"

"Well, I certainly won't pull his hair." Anne looked into the firelight then, relaxing against the sofa. "You mean my temper?" She smiled at him slightly. 'When I became a man, I put away childish things,'" she quoted with a slight smile. "Childish temper tantrums don't belong to a twenty-eight-year-old woman. I think that is one thing I needed to grow out of."

Gilbert gave her an odd look. "They weren't all childish temper tantrums, Anne. Everyone needs to have some fight in them. I always admired the fact that you stood up for yourself- that people didn't intimidate you."

She looked at him then, confused. "Of course I was intimidated at times, Gilbert."

"You never let it show-"

She quirked one eyebrow at him. "My temper was often a result of me reacting to my insecurities- as you no doubt remember."

"I suppose so." He chuckled, but when he spoke again, his voice was low. "Were- were you ever angry after the accident?" Gilbert watched her carefully, wondering if he had probed too far.

Anne stiffened, however she drew in a deep breath. "Yes. I was," she said frankly. "When- I became more aware of my surroundings, after the danger of infection had passed- I had more time awake- and inside, I raged." She shook her head, and pushed the softly curling red hair from her forehead with a sigh. "I had an elderly doctor who would come and sit with me when he was on night duty. He was a little man- and he studied eastern medical practices in his time. He would bring me a cup of tea that he had brewed himself, and tell me that I had to find inner peace." She chuckled, and Gilbert watched her, spellbound. "I had no idea what he meant. Every night I would lie awake in pain, and every night he would tell me to breathe in and out, over and over again. He used to say that I needed to accept my situation- that I was far too stubborn."

Gilbert couldn't keep a smile from his face at that. "And yet that is most likely why you aren't in a wheelchair."

Anne nodded, and in the silence she watched Gilbert wistfully. She found herself asking him the same question. "Were you ever angry?"

Gilbert froze. This was as close as they had ever come to addressing what had passed between them. He cleared his throat, his eyes on the distant wall. "Yes." He saw her flinch and folded his arms across his chest. "I suppose everyone is, at times. But you can't live like that forever. I learned that."

Anne gave him a peculiar look. "No. You can't."

At this moment, Andrew and Owen entered the room, and Penny followed close behind with the tea trolley. Andrew watched the pair curiously, having the unaccountable feeling that they had walked in on something. Nothing outwardly seemed amiss, and he dismissed the thought from his mind.

"Owen was just telling me about his new house," he said lightly.

Mr Ford smiled. "My old house, you mean. It was the house my grandfather built for my grandmother before she arrived from England."

Penny smiled. "How wonderful, Mr Ford! Has it always belonged to your family?"

Owen's look was wistful. "No. When I came to Four Winds two years ago- to find that the house was abandoned. It hurt me- my mother had loved it so." He turned to Anne with a smile. "I came out here after a brush with typhoid. My doctor ordered me to the shore- and I came to see the beauty and enchantment she had often spoken of." There was a shadow that seemed to pass over his face then. Anne, who had looked up instinctively at the mention of typhoid studied him. He seemed to address her directly then. "I came across an old sea captain who had known my grandparents- who spoke of the love the two of them had shared, of the birth of my mother in their house by the sea. When I first looked upon the house I felt I had come home, Miss Shirley."

Anne's eyes had softened. "I understand. I felt like that when I first saw Green Gables."

The hand that sat in Gilbert's pocket suddenly clenched.

Owen sat back, his lean frame stretching out in the chair. He adjusted the immaculate cuffs he wore, and smiled. "When I met the good captain, he told me tales of his extraordinary life- and I realised that his story was the one I was waiting to tell. He'd always wanted someone to write it for him- and over that summer, together we wrote The Life Book."

Penny smiled. "It was a wonderful story, Mr Ford. Tales of adventure and passion and bravery- it was marvellous."

Owen bowed slightly, his expression pleased. "I was honoured to collaborate on it. Sadly, the captain died just after it was published," he said, and his eyes darkened. "At the very moment my dreams came true, the man who inspired it was gone." He sighed then. "Captain Jim was one of the links to a past that few remember, anymore."

Anne looked at him curiously. She had read The Life Book, of course. It was one of the last books she had bought for herself before the accident- however, it was not until she arrived in Four Winds that she had found the time to read it. Mirth and adventure and tragedy, the pain of a love lost, and yet the life that would go on bravely in spite of heartache. She studied the look that crossed his handsome face, wondering if the heartbreak he wrote of had once been his own. she understood that. Her eyes fell and her cheeks heated then, acutely conscious of the man who sat so near her. Penny had handed her a cup of tea, and Anne sat it on the little table beside her, willing her hands to steady.

Owen was talking again, and she pulled herself back from her thoughts with an effort.

"I've had builders in the house for weeks now, in an attempt to make the house functional again," he said, in response to a question of Penny's. "Alex Crawford is doing the work for me- and he is a master craftsman in the guise of a builder. I couldn't wish for anyone to respect the history of the place more." He turned to Anne then, his look warm. "I remember you saying how much you missed your home shore. The view of the Four Winds shore is wonderful from my house, Miss Shirley. I believe it may be the best view of the harbour. I should very much like to show you it, some time." A startled look crossed Andrew's face at Owen showing such a marked preference, and Owen was quick to speak again. "I would love for you all to come, in fact. I have been wanting to host an informal opening of the house- and in the depths of winter, the comfort and warmth of friendship is welcome. How would you all like to be my guests in a fortnight's time? If you visit early enough in the afternoon there will be time to explore before dinner."

Andrew cleared his throat, looking oddly at Gilbert's expression. "It would be a pleasure, Owen. Miss Shirley, we would be honoured to be able to escort you that day, if you wish."

Anne's cheeks were once again pink, and she could find nothing more to say but a soft "Thank you."

Owen turned to Gilbert. "Blythe, what say you? Come and see the shore from my house of dreams?"

After a moment Gilbert gave Ford an even look. "Pending any emergencies, I accept."

Owen smiled, "Wonderful. I'll let my housekeeper know."

A short time later, Anne stripped off her gloves in the entryway of Rosewood Cottage, smiling at Susan as she came to take her coat. The two of them chattered lightly as Anne prepared for bed, and soon she was comfortably settled, sitting up in bed to braid her long red hair back. Susan had laid out a nightgown that made Anne smile- one of the many Mrs Lynde had made for her in the hospital, insisting that Anne should still dress like a lady. The intricate yellow embroidery on the yoke of the gown was sweet, and she sighed. It was too soon to take off her mourning, however, at night time she could pretend that her pretty gowns were normal, again. Anne settled back in bed, blowing out the lamp beside her.

The pale moonlight shone in on the forget-me-not papered walls, and she suddenly frowned. The evening had been a mixed blessing. She had honestly enjoyed herself that night- the Winstons were hospitable and friendly, but how did she continue to spend time with them, and not encroach on Gilbert? These were his friends. Anne gave a little huff of frustration. He didn't appear to be worried. But then why should he? He had nothing to prove to her.

The polite discussion about who would drive her home that evening had utterly humiliated her. Whatever their motivations had been, both gentlemen were equally courteous, equally as adamant that it was no trouble. Inside Anne had writhed, feeling that the best thing she could do was to walk home and go buy a horse first thing in the morning… she and Susan had had this discussion before.

In the end, Gilbert had insisted that he needed to make it an early night, as he had early patients to see the next day. The two of them had driven home together in comfortable conversation, however, a discomposed Anne now lay in bed, a frown on her face. This no man's land of uncertainty between Gilbert and herself was driving her ever so slightly mad- the friendship that could not really be friendship. It was one thing to decide to make things easier for him and stay away, however, their respective positions in the town meant that a complete separation of lives was impossible. His lack of argument alone confused her- surely he couldn't be wanting her nearby.

She leant over to pull the heavy curtains closed, and flopped back, pulling her leg up to rub her aching ankle. In the darkness now she saw him giving her the twisted smile she remembered so well, his lean figure turning to walk back to the buggy in the moonlight. She closed her eyes and stilled herself as the old doctor had taught her to do, a faint smile coming to her tired face then. As uncomfortable as it had been at times- as little welcome as being without a means of transport had been, the worry about him not wanting her nearby and the presence of the woman he must be in love with was- Anne Shirley's cheeks flamed in the darkness of the cool night. As she looked at the cost of the situation she was in, an unbidden warmth welled up in her chest, and she blinked away a small tear.

Simply to be near him again was worth it.