Chapter 20

Anne arrived home from school on the day of her twenty-ninth birthday, her smile bright. She came into the kitchen as Susan was icing a cake and sat down at the table with a sigh.

"And how did your class go today?"

Anne beamed. "Lovely, Susan. I took the children outside to look for spring flowers."

Susan looked at her indulgently. "It's a mite too early for that here."

Anne laughed. "I suppose it would be too early in Avonlea, as well. Nevertheless, it's something I do at the end of every winter." A slight shadow crossed her face then, as she accepted the cup of tea from Susan. "Well, most winters. Last winter I was still at the rehabilitation clinic."

Susan gave her a quick glance. "You must nearly have been finished there, this time last year."

Anne nodded. "I was. Marilla and Diana came up for my birthday. They ordered a cake from a bakery and we had a tea party in my room." To Susan's surprise, Anne chuckled. "Diana gave me some impressively embroidered silk stockings- she wanted me to be able to cover the scars up with something beautiful. Marilla was quite shocked to see me open them in front of the staff who had tea with us." There was a pause then, and Susan looked up to see Anne struggling with tears. She often stayed silent when Anne mentioned the accident or Marilla, knowing she was learning to speak of them with openness again. "Marilla- gave me a beaded purse that had been hers when she was young- she said I should use it when I next went to a ball," Anne faltered, and Susan crossed the room to hold her for a moment.

For a moment there was silence, and then Susan's voice was brisk. "It's no wonder such things should come to mind now, dearie- but she loved you dearly. And there are plenty of other folks who do likewise. You have parcels on your bed from Diana and Mrs Blake, and I've laid your grey cashmere out. The water is heating for your bath, and I must turn my mind back to this blessed cake- we have a party to attend tonight."

The birthday party was a concoction between Susan and Penny, and Anne rose to ready herself for the evening. Anne knew only that the Winstons and most likely Gilbert would be there, and had cheerfully agreed to fuel Penny's love of company.

So it was with great surprise that Anne and Susan arrived that evening at the Winston house to see several buggies waiting- the Elliot's, members of the ladies sewing circle and some families from church. Bright lights and laughter echoing through the open doorway, and Penny was beaming as her red gown swished down the hall to welcome them inside. Anne's grey eyes were enormous at the sound, however, Penny only smiled, and was about to lead Anne in that direction when another knock at the door sounded.

Andrew opened the door to greet a sober Gilbert, who did not remove his coat. To everyone's surprise, he explained that he couldn't stay- that he had to leave for Charlottetown on the last train. Penny and Andrew expressed their disappointment, however, neither of them missed that it was Anne that Gilbert looked to in apology. She was quick to give him a smile that didn't quite reach her grey eyes.

"I- wondered if I might take a few minutes of Anne's time before I go," he asked lightly.

"Of course, Gilbert," Penny stated enthusiastically. "Anne, would you like your coat? It is rather chilly out there."

A bewildered Anne had her coat swiftly put back on despite Susan's protest, and found herself accompanying Gilbert outside to where his horse waited.

"I'm sorry to tear off so rudely, but I got the call about my patient an hour ago. I planned to stop by your house, but you'd already left- and I didn't want to give you this in front of the crowd in there."

"Crowd?" Anne said feebly.

He grinned then. "You know Penny. She loves to do a thing properly."

Anne began to laugh. "Yes. She's been behaving a little odd lately- have you noticed that?"

As a matter of fact, Gilbert had- and he had his suspicions as to why she was doing it. However since he had no desire to enter into that discussion with Anne unprepared, he answered lightly. "Perhaps she is making the most of her time before she returns to Montreal."

Anne willed her cheeks to not heat, her face carefully impassive. "Perhaps."

"Anyhow, I wasn't sure what to get you on your twenty-ninth birthday. After all twenty-nine is a special age."

Anne couldn't keep back a dry laugh. "Interesting. You mean the one that is one less than thirty?"

He shrugged, grinning. "Of course. I did it two and a half years ago. Best year of my life." Anne quirked an eyebrow, and he chuckled. "Alright, not really. It was my first year in Montreal. I don't think I slept for twelve months. But anyway, I wanted to give you this."

A brown wrapped parcel was placed in Anne's hands, and this time nothing could hide the way her cheeks coloured. Carefully Anne undid the green ribbon and opened it to find a pretty journal. She smiled, looking up at him.

"Thank you, Gil. It's lovely."

"It's for your writing." Her head came up in shock, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I remembered what the English professors used to say about your work- and it bothered me when you told me you didn't write anymore. I know it's been awhile- but I wondered if maybe- when things aren't so hard- if it might be something you wanted to pick up again." To his consternation, she lifted her hand to wipe away a tear, and he found himself trying to make light of the gift. "But if you don't like it you can write- I don't know, knitting patterns in it or something."

This made her begin to laugh through her tears. "Gil, when have you ever known me to take down knitting patterns?"

"Maybe not being able to run made you need a new hobby."

He grinned as she slapped him on the arm, her eyes twinkling. "Only you would joke about that." She held the book carefully in her hands and looked up at him. "Thank you, Gilbert."

Somehow Gilbert knew she wasn't only referring to the gift. "You're welcome." There was an uncomfortable silence, and he found himself reluctant to go, reluctant to leave this moment. "I'll most likely be gone for a few days- I'll stay to meet Jeremy off the boat."

Anne's wistful eyes followed him, as he turned to study the lamp on the street corner. He should be going- and yet how desperately she wanted him to stay. To be able to run gentle fingers over his brow, to smooth out the lines of worry that she saw there so often. She swallowed, wondering what it would be like to welcome him home from a long trip- to take his coat, kiss his tired face and care for him. To listen to the things that concerned him, or bring him laughter when the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. When Gilbert turned back to her she realised she had moved toward him unconsciously and stopped in pink confusion. The twisted smile was on his face when he met her eyes.

"I suppose-"

"That you need to go," Anne said softly. "You know that everyone understands, Gil."

"I know. I'm sorry it had to be tonight, though." To her surprise, Gilbert didn't move. "Do you- want me to bring you anything?" he asked with a grin. "Andrew wants me to pick up papers for him."

Anne's eyes twinkled in the moonlight. "A story." At the way his brown eyebrows flew up, she smiled. "Something interesting that you did while you were there."

This made him laugh. "I'll be at a hospital consulting over a heart disease case, not having wild adventures."

"Oh, I'm sure mischief can still find its way to you."

Gilbert's eyes never left her. Her cheeks were flushed, and he was close enough to see the way the amethyst brooch on her breast rose and fell with her quick breath. Much later he would wonder how he missed what her eloquent grey eyes were saying- but for now, he came to himself with a shake of his curly head.

"Anne, we should get you inside. You're the guest of honour- and I have to catch that train."

He held out his arm to her, and the two of them walked slowly towards the veranda. Gilbert turned to her at the door.

"Well, I hope you enjoy your party," he said lightly. "You can think of me rattling away on a cold train, and sleeping in a hotel room with questionable decor tonight."

At this Anne laughed. "Is this self-pity I see in you, Gilbert? For shame. Your younger self would call that an adventure."

He grinned. "He didn't have old football injuries to bother him- or trouble sleeping on strange beds."

Her hand was on the handle of the door, and for just a moment she looked up at him, smiling. She suddenly found herself blinking back more tears.

"What is it?" he asked her softly.

Afraid that he would see too much in her expression, she cleared her throat, her eyes falling. "Nothing. I'm just thankful."

A hesitant Gilbert went to speak, when together they turned at the creak of the gate. Owen Ford himself stepped out of the shadows, carrying an elegantly wrapped present with him.

"Doctor Blythe, Miss Shirley," he said with a curious look at the pair. "I expected to find you indoors enjoying the party."

Gilbert forced himself to smile. "I was escorting Miss Shirley inside. I have to catch the train now."

Owen nodded and turned to her with a warm look. "Miss Shirley, won't you allow me to escort you? The doctor can get on his way then."

Well able to feel the tension in Gilbert, Anne's startled grey eyes moved from one to the other- and was unexpectedly relieved to hear the door opening behind her, and Penny's head popping out to find her errant guest.

Gilbert stepped back with a now familiar frustration rising in his chest. Was this how all of their interactions would be from now on? Interrupted, again and again, coming so close to talking only to be forced to step back for propriety's sake. Gilbert gritted his teeth. This was exactly why the two of them used to run for the woods in the old days. He looked up then at the sound of her voice.

"Thank you, Gil. It means a lot to me that you came. Travel safely."

Ignoring Owen's look of surprise at her familiarity, Gilbert grinned. "I'll be back underfoot before you know it. And- happy birthday." Anne smiled back and took Penny's proffered arm. She was ushered in out of the cold then, leaving both gentlemen on the doorstep.

Gilbert watched the man's shoulders fall as soon as soon as the women were gone, and he studied him in the dim light. "You didn't find her."

Owen rubbed his forehead, exhausted. "No. It's like she simply vanished."

Gilbert kicked at a rock near his foot and was silent for a time. Eventually, he spoke. "Owen, you knew her better than I did- you knew what hell her life was here. She needed to make a new beginning."

His brown eyes were hard. "I suppose we all have to, sooner or later."

Gilbert thought of Anne and sighed. "Yes." He checked his watch and turned back to the man who had slumped onto the veranda step. "Ford, I do know what this is like."

Owen gave Gilbert a cool look. "And what's that?"

Gilbert paused, his voice quiet. "Losing the person you love."

Owen gave a bitter chuckle. "Come now, Gilbert, I very much doubt that you understand this. You don't seem the type."

At this, Gilbert lost his patience. "Are you so lost in your grief that you think you are alone? You think no one else has ever been through this before? For Pete's sake, you wrote The Life Book! You wrote about the grief of another man losing his love!"

Owen stood up, his face mocking. "Well, it seems that Wilde was right. Life does imitate art. I wouldn't bother trying to empathize, Blythe. You've got a train to catch, and I have a party to attend."

Gilbert curtly nodded. As he stepped on board the waiting buggy, he could hear Owen's smooth greeting to his hostess, and the door closed the warmth and noise of the party away from him. He pulled the buggy onto the road, his mind working furiously. He'd puzzled at Owen's behaviour for weeks now- he'd come here for Leslie, bought a house so far from society purely for her- only she wasn't here. He was bored, he was restless. He shivered slightly as he pushed Hippocrates to a jog, hoping that Stan had the stall ready for him. He always had. As the station came into sight Gilbert let out a long breath. He had a lot to do over the next few days, he needed to keep his mind on his work. Not on the fact that Susan had let slip the fact that flowers arrived from Mr Ford almost weekly for Anne- or that he somehow found time in his writing schedule to come calling on her once or twice a week. No, Gilbert had attempted to not dwell on that at all.

Far too quickly he found himself alone in the dim carriage, rattling away from Four Winds. As the movement of the train rocked him, Owen's behaviour toward Anne shifted into focus. Gilbert knew Owen had loved Leslie Moore- he knew that he had searched for her. He'd wondered then, why he had put so much effort into courting another woman's attention.

As the lights of the town he lived faded into blackness, Gilbert's hazel eyes were troubled. All of that was true. But now he saw the hopeless look in Owen's eyes and the same reckless and angry behaviour that a distraught Leslie had once described to him. With a sinking heart, he understood.

He was now preparing himself to not find her.

Several days after the party, Anne was sitting at the kitchen table doing her schoolwork, after insisting that she had far more need of company that comfort. Susan talked cheerfully while she worked on supper, telling Anne the news from the market and what she had collected from the post that day.

"Mr Flagg slipped in some of those pencils you have been buying lately, as well. He thought you might have need of more now."

Anne chuckled. "Since his eldest daughter won two of them a few days ago, I'm not surprised."

Susan gave her a shocked look. "Why Anne, what on earth are you doing with them?"

This made the dignified Miss Shirley laugh. "For prizes, Susan dear- it isn't anything untoward. Some of my students are quite competitive, and I am using that to encourage them to pay attention to their spelling- which has been hard work this term. Addie Flagg was able to spell 'chrysanthemum' perfectly last week."

Susan looked at her dubiously. "If you say so, Anne dear. I always thought that children worked better when a strap made them do so."

Anne's auburn eyebrow rose. "Not in my classroom. Susan, please thank Mr Flagg for me. I'll need to order another box soon."

It was later that same afternoon when Gilbert Blythe drove from the Glen St Mary station, this time with a talkative Jeremy in tow.

"You really had to move so far from a hospital?" he said, looking out over the valley, clutching his bowler hat in the breeze.

Gilbert laughed. "Only a city boy would think that- three hours isn't far. And that's why I'm out here."

Jeremy grinned. "Well, it certainly seems to suit you. You look better than I've seen you in a while."

"You haven't seen me for a while. Absence must make the heart grow fonder after all."

Jeremy slapped him on the back with a chuckle. "Have it your way. You're going to take me on your calls, aren't you? I wouldn't mind trying some kitchen table surgery, just for some drama."

Gilbert rolled his eyes. "You know the aim is to help them before they get to that point, don't you? But yes, you can come with me. Just no telling medical school stories to my patients."

"Like you putting that spleen under Murphy's desk?"

Gilbert grinned. "He was spouting off about women being unfit to be doctors. It had to be done."

The two of them talked all the way to Gilbert's house. Gilbert heard of the changes that had come to the hospital, while Jeremy listened eagerly to some of Gilbert's case histories. Mrs Leary welcomed them stiffly, proving herself immune to the charm that Jeremy exuded, and telling Gilbert that she would leave dinner in the oven for when the two of them were done 'gallivanting'.

Jeremy watched her exit the house with a disgusted look on his face. "That's your idea of home and comfort, Blythe?"

Gilbert snorted as he stowed Jeremy's bags in the guest room. "Thanks, but I make home and comfort for myself. Not that I wouldn't love a housekeeper who didn't look at me like I was a pest." He looked up at Jeremy with a grin. "It's why I eat out so often."

Jeremy laid his coat on the end of the bed carefully. "And where are we off to tonight?"

Gilbert hedged. "Not here, I think. I'm taking you to see my patient, remember."

Jeremy sighed. "Not off the train for an hour, and I'm already on duty. I see it now, you just wanted help with your workload."

Gilbert's smile was amused. "You'd better freshen up. We're about to go and see the best housekeeper on the Island. Although don't tell my mother I said that."

Jeremy began to laugh. "Is this why your invalid is a favourite? Or why you called a colleague to come hundreds of miles just to see her?"

"You'll see."

Just before tea time that night, Gilbert pulled up in front of Anne's cottage, watching his friend leap down easily. As Gilbert secured the horse he heard an answering whinny come from the barn at the back of the cottage and smiled. Anne had told him of their adventures in keeping Guinevere- and he was surprised to see that she was learning to take the horse and buggy by herself- albeit hovered over by a very protective Susan, and other townsfolk in the know. Jeremy now looked up at the little house with interest.

"This is most irregular, Gil," he said cheerfully. "Normally I meet patients through a file, not in their homes."

Gilbert hesitated. "She- isn't your average patient."

"Oh?" His look turned devilish. "Some aged spinster who thinks the world of you?"

Gilbert's lip twitched. He'd been planning on telling him before they reached the house- and then he smiled. No, he could work it out for himself. "Close."

Jeremy chuckled. "The elderly ones always fall for you, don't they? Must be that Blythe charm."

Gilbert only nodded. "Well, let's not keep her waiting."

He strode to the door and knocked, hoping that Anne would answer herself- it was sure to be more fun that way. A grin crossed his face when Anne did indeed open the door.

"Gilbert! I-" She stopped suddenly and narrowed her eyes at him. She knew that expression. A slight smile was on her face. "What are you up to?" she asked quietly.

"Anne, there's someone I would like you to meet." He stepped back so that Jeremy could see the woman who stood before him, and was rewarded by the look of complete and utter shock on his face. Gilbert watched Jeremy's head swing back to him, and at his silence gave as innocent a smile as he could.

From the doorway Anne looked from one to the other, her grey eyes huge, and a blush slowly crossing her face. The unknown gentleman must be Doctor Barnes, and from the look on his face, he had not been expecting her. She flicked a startled glance at Gilbert, noting his smug expression.

Aha.

"I believe you must be Doctor Barnes," she said politely, as neither gentleman seemed to recognise they were still on her doorstep on a cool day. To her amusement she watched him shake himself.

"Forgive me, Miss Shirley," this was said slowly, with a glance at Gilbert as he did so. "I do apologise for my rudeness. Doctor Blythe appears to have left some details out at my expense."

To his surprise Anne folded her arms, her eyebrow raised. "Oh?" Her sharp eyes had not missed the look of alarm on Gilbert's face, nor the grin Jeremy gave.

"Allow me to begin that again. It's an honour to meet you, Miss Anne Shirley." Anne was startled as she found her hand pressed with a kiss, and gave Gilbert a bewildered glance. Jeremy seemed untroubled. "It was most ungallant of me to stare, however I was expecting someone quite different."

Anne's eyebrow rose at Gilbert. "Indeed. You really should watch that, Doctor Barnes. Won't you both come in?"

She ushered the two gentlemen into the comfortable sitting room, and while she went to ask Susan to prepare tea, Jeremy rounded on Gilbert.

"You never thought to warn me?"

Gilbert shrugged, his hands in his pockets, and a smug grin on his face. "Oh, I thought about it. I just thought it might be more fun this way."

Jeremy shook his head, his gaze piercing. "Anne Shirley."

"In the flesh," Gilbert said calmly.

"Anne of your island is your patient now."

"Correct."

Jeremy walked away shaking his head, stunned beyond belief. "It's her- Carrots, the slate-"

"Would you keep your voice down!" Gilbert hissed. "Yes. It's that Anne. But she is my friend, and I wanted to consult you as a professional to see if there is anything that can be done about her injury."

Jeremy gave him an exasperated look. "Your letters are full of stories about all manner of patients, but you never thought to tell me that she was here?"

Gilbert sat down in his customary chair with a sigh. "Look, it's- just complicated. How did I know you'd remember her?"

Jeremy gave him a long-suffering look. "You think I'd forget the beautiful, red-headed woman that you always brought up when you'd had a little too much to drink at college events-"

At this Gilbert's brows flew up in consternation. "So help me, if you ever say anything to her about that-"

Jeremy drew in a deep breath and chuckled. "You know I won't. But what on earth happened here? How are you even talking now?"

Gilbert shrugged, a faint smile on his face. "She's here. And I don't know- we just are. You don't know how I missed her," he admitted quietly.

The two gentlemen stood when Anne herself and Susan came into the sitting room a short time later, bringing with them a sumptuous tea. To Gilbert's surprise, Susan sat with them this time. She'd never done so when he had visited before- unless others had been there. Was that unusual? Was Anne uncomfortable for some reason?

As a matter of fact, Anne and Susan had had this argument within the first few weeks at Rosewood Cottage. Anne had been firm that the two of them were family, and when there was company, the two of them would entertain together- most of the time. It had escaped Anne's notice that this policy was foregone whenever Gilbert was present- mostly due to the uncomfortable feeling that Susan was intruding on something private.

She sat knitting in her chair before the fire, once Anne was comfortably sitting down. The conversation was lively, and soon it turned to Jeremy's surprise when he had first seen Anne.

Anne's grey eyes twinkled. "You were obviously expecting someone different, Doctor Barnes."

He gave Gilbert a sly grin. "I must confess that I did. Perhaps someone older, and more infirm, wasn't it, Gil?"

Gilbert choked on his tea as Anne turned to him, her grey eyes now showing a glint of green. "That was only your assumption!" he retorted, and turned back to Anne, with a placating look on his face. "Anne, Jeremy likes to torment; I said nothing of the kind to him."

To his consternation, her eyebrows only rose, and she turned to address herself to Gilbert's friend. "So, Doctor Barnes-"

"Jeremy, if you don't mind, Miss Shirley," he said easily, with a wink that made Gilbert scowl. "And may I also address you by your given name?"

"You may." Anne smiled wickedly. "I am curious, what was young Doctor Blythe like in medical school? I'm interested to see if his school days were any indication of his behaviour there." She grinned, seeing Gilbert's cheeks colour.

Jeremy leant in, his face carefully sorrowful. "He was very studious, Anne, and nearly broke my heart with his relentless devotion to his textbooks. I despaired of having someone who could join me as a conspirator for mischief- until I caught him putting the class skeleton's hand in someone's lab coat."

Anne burst into a peal of laughter, clapping her hands. "I knew it, I knew you wouldn't have changed that much."

Gilbert rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "We had a classmate who used to brag that nothing could rattle him-"

"Well, it rattled him, alright," Jeremy said blithely. "He ran screaming into the door. Knocked it clear off its hinges."

Susan looked mildly horrified by this, and Jeremy soon turned to tell her other stories that showed his classmate in a better light. Doctor Barnes was well known for his ability to read a situation, and easily interpreted the older woman's concern. As the four of them talked around Susan's plentiful food, his eyes wandered between Anne and Gilbert.

He'd known who she was the instant that he saw her- and Gilbert's silence on the matter was evidence enough. The girl he had heard about so often now sat across from him, her walking stick beside her, and the halting gait that spoke volumes to a trained doctor. However, it was her eyes that had him watching now- the grey eyes that sparkled when she spoke to and of her former schoolmate animatedly, the pretty colour that came to her cheeks whenever Gilbert teased her. After all of the woman he had tried to set Gilbert up with over the years, he couldn't help chuckling at the obvious reason for his failure.

Oh, Blythe… Jeremy thought with a grin. You're done for this time.