My apologies for the long delay between chapters. I've been away and before that I had some family stuff going on, all of which meant writing went by the wayside for a couple of months. I've missed my favourite couple though, maybe you have too.

Early mornings were Gideon's favourite part of the day. He would rise when Josephine stirred, changing her diaper, or more, if necessary, by the light of the candle and bring her to Marilla for a sleepy nurse. Afterwards they'd leave Marilla to slumber and make their way down to the kitchen. This was their time; time to be Jewish. Talking exclusively in Yiddish he would tell her fairy tales, sing her lullabies; the old standby Raisins and Almondswas a favourite:

Little Jew
Here is your calling – trading in raisins and almonds
So, sleep now, little Jew, sleep
There will come a time when railroads will cover half the earth
And you too, will earn great wealth.

And there was Shlof Mine Kind which he'd explained to Matthew one morning meant 'sleep my child'.

But more than lullabies it was a time he could chatter to her about his family history, imparting the songs and stories of his childhood. That Josephine could not yet understand seemed immaterial. He could not remember when he first heard these stories and that led him to believe that his mother had shared them with him before he was sentient. It was a shared experience with his long-departed mother, her memory a blessing.

Usually, Matthew rose a little later. It was during this time that their relationship, already strong, really grew and developed so that Gideon came to regard Matthew as his brother rather than needing the 'in-law' addendum. This quiet gentleman had accepted Gideon for what he was, a fact he appreciated in this foreign, sometimes unforgiving world. Setting Josephine down in her Moses basket (He had grinned when Marilla named it, and she had said, "goodness, it never occurred to me.) he would relight the stove and set a pot to boil providing the baby with a running commentary in his native Yiddish. Describing the soft golden light that came through the kitchen window when the sun finally rose, the way the stove warmed the house, and his plans for the day.

For Matthew's part the sound of Gideon's voice greeted him when he rose so that instead of a gloomy pre-breakfast repast before heading out into the cold, he received a friendly introduction to the day. He'd nod Gideon's way and bestow a light kiss upon his niece's head before settling down to a steaming cup of coffee to fortify himself against the chill. They'd chat about their hopes and wishes, each gaining a better understanding of the others' life. Gideon had never given much to how the climate directed a farmer's life. How busy he could be during winter, planning the crops to come, performing maintenance, tending to the stock who had to be fed and watered during those long dark months. For his part Matthew came to realise that rather than having an easy life, Gideon's seemed far more precarious than he would have enjoyed, not to mention the terror of having to perform day in and day out in order to make his sales.

Sometimes the baby woke too early for either of them to stir. At those times Gideon settled her back to sleep, petrified that she'd reawaken upon being put back to bed. When he'd climb back into the bed Marilla would envelop him in warm limbs to help him drift off.

If Gideon had done his duty during the night Marilla would let him sleep. She'd chide Josephine for keeping him up, "don't ever think we don't like our sleep, sweet one." She knew, what mother wouldn't, what Gideon got up to while she slept and was content. She expected Rachel would be upset, 'you'll confuse that baby, that's what.' But Marilla figured the baby could cope, and it was important to her that Josephine understood where her father had come from.

Sniff sniff. Hm, Marilla wasn't too sure. It had been months after all, over a year. How long did bacon keep? She brought the hunk up to the light in the kitchen and examined it closely. No, it didn't look good anymore that greenish tinge. The last thing she wanted to risk was food poisoning. Best talk to Matthew.

"How're the pigs?" she asked him when she found him milking.

"Happy as Larry," Matthew replied. "No safer place for them than Green Gables these days, and I reckon they know it."

"Did you miss it?"

"Bacon?" She nodded. "Well, I reckon I did, but you know you're the cook, I never liked to say."

Marilla sighed. "For goodness sake, Matthew you live here too, you own the place. You have as much right to express your likes as anyone else. Please don't do everything I want all the time. Now I feel guilty for keeping you from something you loved. I had a long chat with Gideon last night and I think I've been behaving stupidly. Martyring myself to some misguided principle." I'll borrow some, that's what I'll do. I have to admit I wouldn't mind a slice in the morning myself."

Gathering the baby Marilla made her way down to Lynde Hollow. There she tentatively broached the subject with her friend expecting a bit of blow back. "I know it's ridiculous but, she fiddled her thumbs, "um, may I borrow," she sighed feeling a bit silly. Rachel gazed at her wondering where the conversation was going. "It's just, oh I don't know. You probably don't know this, but Gideon may not eat bacon, well pig of any type really. It's against his religion and I suppose it was stupid, but I decided that we wouldn't either."

"Marilla!"

Marilla paused, "yes, I know, I know. There's no need to tell me. I did it out of loyalty. You'll call me ridiculous."

"You're dedicated, that's for sure and certain."

Marilla frowned at her. "Yes, well. Gideon's told me it's not strictly necessary. Of course, Matthew did as I suggested, but truly he enjoys his bacon and we'll have some by and by, but at the moment we don't have any put up and as you know I can hardly conjure it out of nowhere."

"Indeed." Rachel paused, letting the silence settle.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Rachel don't make me beg, may we borrow some."

Rachel smiled, "of course you may, Marilla. We have plenty after all, it's a favourite in this house; we always have some down in the cellar."

"Now you may tell me to hush, Marilla," Rachel said as she climbed the stars cradling a piece of bacon in her arms. "But are you happy?"

Marilla regarded her, her mouth watering at the sight because truth to tell she had missed it also. She replied, "look Rachel, you married a fine man a hard worker and a good provider, but I assume occasionally he makes mistakes or God forbid you do as well. Sometimes you tell me about it all and sometimes you don't, as is right and proper but on the occasions that you have, have I ever suggested even for a moment that you two were unhappy together, have I even questioned it?"

"No."

"Well please do me the honour of assuming the same of Gideon and I. I love Gideon and he loves me. We give each other the grace to make mistakes without admonishment. I made a mistake here and he's lovingly chided me for it and that's the end of the matter as far as we are concerned. You must cease assuming anything different. If I need your help and I assume I never will, a lack of bacon notwithstanding, I know whom to reach out to, but otherwise."

"I'm just teasing, Marilla. Don't take me so seriously."

Marilla frowned, "it's not funny. I admit may be a bit sensitive."

Absentmindedly she stared at the steam rising from her cup. Cradling the cup in her hands she relished its warmth and then blowing on the coffee took a tentative sip. Predictably the baby started fussing. Marilla stooped to pick her up and bounced her on her knee momentarily in the faint hope that would settle her. "Just nurse her here, if you like," Rachel suggested. Despite witnessing Rachel nursing her own brood countless times and of course being attended to by Rachel at the baby's birth, Marilla was just a tiny bit self-conscious about exposing herself in front of the family. "Nothing they've not seen before, after all," added Rachel carelessly. Since Josephine was by this point completely frantic about the lack of food in her tummy, Marilla had no choice but to undo her buttons and place the baby at her breast. Rooting about initially there was silence as her tiny lips closed over the nipple and the first gush of milk hit the back of her throat. Rachel smiled, "they act as if we're torturing them, don't they? As if it's the end of the world when its only been a few hours."

"If that," Marilla replied rolling her eyes but affectionately stroking the baby's head at the same time.

"Time for this little one to be christened, don't you think?" Rachel remarked with a little bit of steel in her tone as though it were well overdue. Though she bridled at the inference, Marilla knew she was right. Unable to meet Rachel's eye she instead busied herself with the baby before sighing and whispering, "I know."

Heedlessly Rachel continued, "it's not right, that's what. What if she were to sicken before she met our Lord, how would that be. You have a duty as her mother."

"I know. I know."

"I hope Gideon isn't…"

"It's nothing to do with him." Marilla rarely lied, it was a point of honour, but in this case, she knew she wasn't being wholly truthful.

She had a lot to think about on her walk home. It wasn't that she was against christening the baby, but what with one thing and another… Her thoughts swirled as she wandered up the lane, Josephine blissfully sound asleep, ignorant of her mother's quandary.

"Everything fine?" Gideon enquired when Marilla returned. She frowned at him before setting the baby back in her cradle and fetching a cup of coffee. "Just have to take this out to Matthew," she said.

"He's already had his… coffee…" Gideon said to her departing back. He turned and shrugged at his sleeping daughter unaware of what that had been all about.

Matthew was just where she'd left him earlier in the day. Somewhat confused he took the proffered coffee from his sister and watched as she settled down in the hay. "Something on your mind, Marilla?"

She looked sideways out the door for a long spell. Figuring something was amiss Matthew drank his coffee down in a long draught and scratched his head. He had chores to attend to but didn't like to leave her in this state. She sighed and said, "I need some advice."

Now this was unusual. Matthew set his tools down and leaned against a barrel the better to hear her.

There was another pause before Marilla started, then stopped, paused and twiddling with a strand of straw she slowly and quietly said, "I know it's time to get Josephine christened, but I don't want to upset him."

"Gideon?"

"Mm hm."

Matthew scratched his head and then wiping his brow with his handkerchief replied, "why would it upset him?"

Marilla looked up at him sharply, "you know."

"D'ya mean because he's Jewish?"

"Of course."

Matthew sniffed then replied, "tell me, when did you tell him of your faith?"

Somewhat wrongfooted Marilla stammered, "I, I don't know. I… I mean I don't know if it ever really came up. He told me that first night that he was Jewish, you recall he couldn't eat the salted pork I had served for dinner." Matthew nodded. "But I mean I never outright said we were Christian."

"You assumed he knew."

"I guess so."

"And from what you've told me, he's had problems with Christians before?"

Wiping a tear from her eye, she said, "yes, he has."

"But despite that he fell in love with you."

"Where are we going with this, Matthew?"

"He knew you were Christian, he's not always loved them, for obvious reasons, but he loves you."

"Yes," she said thinking it through. "I suppose so." Matthew gently laughed. "What's so funny?" Marilla remarked, shocked by his reaction. This was a serious matter but apparently, he found it amusing.

"Reminds me of the bacon situation."

"Are you comparing my daughter to a side of bacon, now?"

"Well, she is rather pink wouldn't you say?" Matthew laughed even harder, "no, no dear sister. You misunderstand me. But the situation is similar," he said once he'd settled down. "What is wrong with you two? Would a little communication be out of order now and then? You overthink things. You invent problems in your head and forget to talk it through with him. Like the bacon, that problem was entirely of your own creation. Talk to him, Marilla. Go. Now. Shoo… Ask him his opinion. I'm just the baby's uncle, what do I know?" Marilla looked at him her mouth opening and closing as retorts came to her and disappeared on her lips, but his intent was sure so reluctantly she about faced and walked up to the house to discuss the matter with her bewildered husband.

"What was all that abou…" Gideon stopped when he found Marilla's head nestled against him. "What's the matter ketzele, what's the matter?" she was silent, but her heaving bosom against his chest informed him as nothing else could that she was upset. "Sha, sha," he murmured, his hands making circles around her back. Lowly, Marilla whispered, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

"What have you to be sorrowful for? You've done nothing wrong. Come," he ordered taking her by the hand and leading her over to a chair.

"No, no," she said pulling him up the stairs. "I want, I… I…"

Getting the idea a beat later Gideon followed her up, his fingers entwined with hers. If she wanted more, he was just the man to provide it.

Afterwards she sobbed a little, "I don't know what happened there."

Gideon lay back a satisfied smile on his face, "no need to apologise. Anytime you feel like that I'm happy to oblige."

"It's not that, I just…"

Sensing something was up despite the events of the previous half hour Gideon turned to her, "what is it ketzele?" She turned away from him, unable to express herself in words just yet. "Ketzele," he stroked her back lovingly. "Come, talk to me."

"I don't know what to do."

"Tell me."

"I watch you with her, I love the way you share your culture with her."

"With Josephine?"

She nodded, "mm hm. I know it's important to you."

"It is, but your culture is important to you too, and to me. I find some aspects of it quite remarkable. There's such a sense of community here. I feel happy for her that she'll be a part of it." She shivered and he covered them both with another blanket. "I mean it ketzele. She's lucky, what happened to my family will never happen to her. You've no idea how reassuring that is." Marilla turned and leant into his chest tracing her fingers up and down his arm, "mm, to me too."

"So, what is bothering you?"

"I saw Rachel."

"Ach."

"She asked, um, she asked when, when we planned to, to, um…" Gideon was silent waiting for her to get to her point, whatever it was, since it was obviously troubling her. Marilla sighed and took a deep breath; this was getting ridiculous. "She said," she said slowly. "She said it was time we had Josephine christened." She paused waiting for his inevitable reaction.

"I agree."

"What?"

"We're planning to give her a Christian upbringing are we not. That's the first step, isn't it?" Marilla was shocked to hear him say it, casual like.

"Well yes, I mean well, yes. I think that's what we'd decided upon, but I wasn't sure, I didn't know. I mean…"

"Hush ketzele, hush. Is that what's been worrying you?"

She nodded, "I didn't want to upset you. I know your faith is important. I didn't want to ride roughshod over that. I want to you know it's important to me too, it's a part of you, but…"

"Did you not think to come to me to discuss it?"

Marilla was silent. It was just as Matthew said, she had been overthinking it and had forgotten that she had a partner now. "It's just, well I was on my own for so long, I'm still getting used to having someone to make these decisions with."

"So, the big question is, when shall we do it?"

"I'll go and talk to the minister this week. Will you attend?"