Ever since Josephine had been born Matthew had avoided spending too much time with Marilla. She had been so wrapped up with the baby initially that she hadn't noticed, but as they got into some semblance of a routine and then when Gideon had left and subsequently returned Marilla noticed that they had been spending less and less time together. Apart from anything, she missed him. He may have always been quiet, but something was off.

She decided to tackle it one night over dinner.

Looking Matthew straight in the eyes she asked, "are you sure you're alright?"

He turned away, unable to look her in the eyes. In fact, Marilla realised, he hadn't truly looked at her since Josephine was born. "Matthew?"

"S'right," he said edging away.

"Matthew? What's the matter. Why won't you talk to me.?"

Matthew harrumped and desperate to escape invented an issue in the barn. "Gotta go," he muttered heading for the door.

Marilla caught him by the arm as he passed, "no, tell me."

Anguished Matthew cast a look at Gideon, it was just fleeting but it said enough.

"Leave him," Gideon said in a quiet voice. "Let him go, ketzele."

"What was all that about?" Marilla said into the echoes of the slamming door. She peered out the door to see her brother shuffling through the gloom towards the barn door.

"Maybe he's not ready to talk to you yet."

"I don't understand, we've always talked. Before you came it was just the two of us, we had no secrets.

"Really?"

Marilla looked at him askance. "No, none." She reached for her shawl meaning to follow him out. Perhaps Matthew didn't want to discuss whatever was troubling him in front of Gideon.

Gideon put his hand on Marilla's arm, "let me."

Frustrated by the two of them but hearing the baby cry Marilla left them to it. "Honestly," she told the baby. "It's not as though I have time to devote to cranky men."

He's predictable, thought Gideon when he spied Matthew through the gloom of the barn. "You've got her mystified," he said by way of greeting. Matthew raised his eyebrows. "S'nothin'."

"It's obviously some thing. I'm hardly the most observant of men, so if I've noticed it, then something's up. Can't you tell me Matthew?" Matthew shook his head. Fishing out a piece of rope he made as though he was busy sorting it out. Gideon was patient, though it had to be said he was acutely aware of his dinner presently cooling on the kitchen table. He sat on a nearby stool and quietly said, "Matthew."

"I don't want to talk about it." He didn't either. He'd been having strange, disturbing dreams, things he did not want to share, where he found himself going back up the passage the baby had come down. Images that haunted him when he woke.

"Women are such mysterious creatures," Gideon started, wrong footing his brother-in-law.

"Eh?"

"Ach yes, you know so strong, resilient yet soft. Their inner workings surprise me all the time."

"Hm."

"They're made different to us. More emotional like."

Matthew dropped his rope and sat down by Gideon putting his head in his hands. "I don't think I can do this anymore." Gideon was quiet. "I helped deliver the baby and it was alright then. I had a job to do and everything else went by the wayside but now…" he paused glancing up at Gideon who nodded encouragingly. Matthew sighed, "I can't get the image of her out of my mind. I've birthed so many animals over the years you know. You think I'd know the inner workings of a female animal, but when it's your sister…" he trailed off. "And you know I've never been with a woman. I had no real idea of what there was between their legs." Poor man thought Gideon. "When we was younger, Marilla and I, our mother used to bathe us together. Tweren't nuthin' in it, we was just little. I barely recall it, but it was a nice time of the week. The two of us splashin' in the bath together ya know. Young and innocent. We used to giggle together, and Mother would be there laughing alongside of us." Gideon couldn't help noticing how Matthew's body had relaxed, though he'd been unaware of how tense he'd been before.

"It was just nice," he repeated. "Til I ruined it." Gideon made a sound of confusion. "See I noticed the difference. I musta got to the age where you see these things and comment. I saw that she was missing it. I suppose I said somethin'. I just remember being whisked outta the warmth and shivering by the hearth while Mother covered Marilla up. We never did it again, never had that easy freedom together again. I don't really know why? I wasn't saying nuthin' I was just noticin'. Was that so wrong?" Gideon shook his head and put his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Now I don't know, I jus' don't know, Gideon. I feel all wrong somehow. Like I saw something forbidden. I don't think I did, but Mother made me feel all uncomfortable like. Like it was forbidden."

There was a long silence as Gideon took in Matthew's words, thinking how best to help his stricken brother-in-law. Eventually he said, "when I was a child, I thought my parents knew everything, you know. I thought they had all the answers and knew what they were doing. I could ask my mother anything and if she didn't know the answer she'd defer to my father and between them they ordered my world." Matthew nodded beside him. "Now I may not have been a father for long, but I'm coming to realise that it was all a lie. Josephine relies on Marilla and me for everything, she doesn't know anything yet. There are times when I'm trying everything I can think of to settle her and nothing's working. You know there's no instruction book for this stuff. It's just you and the baby at two in the morning; trying to get her to sleep so you can yourself. And it occurred to me the other night that maybe my parents had no clue what they were doing either. It kinda hit me; here I was thinking they knew it all and they were probably making it up as they went along too. I wish," he sighed. "I just wish I could talk about it with them." He shook himself; this conversation wasn't about him.

"Ach, anyway, that's a long-winded way to say I suppose your mother was the same. You did something and she wasn't sure how to react to it. I can't say it was the right thing or the wrong thing. She just reacted in the moment. But I need you to know you did nothing wrong, we needed you, Matthew."

"I know, I know you did. But…"

"Awful glad you were there, Matthew. You saved both their lives."

Matthew gave him a wobbly smile. "You think so?"

"I do. I just know you were there when we needed you. You're a handy man to have in an emergency. Makes me feel better when I have to leave, to know you're around to take care of them both." Matthew smiled feeling the weight perceptibly lift. He wasn't sure, but maybe it would be all right.

Up in the house Marilla decided she had better eat her dinner while it was still hot. She rose to stare out the kitchen window at intervals; the small, golden glow of the lamp visible through the window. She sighed wondering what was going on down there. When it was apparent they were in no hurry she placed the men's dinners by the stove to keep warm. They had not returned when she'd finished so she put the dishes in the sink and nursed the baby, singing to her gently by the fire. Popping her back in the warmest place in the house she started on the morrow's bread, still glancing out the window intermittently.

"How about we go back up, I'm pretty hungry." Matthew nodded, blowing his nose he got to his feet and followed Gideon back to the house. Just before they walked in, he said, "don't say anything to her." Gideon nodded then followed him in shaking his head at Marilla to tell her not to comment. Wordlessly she took their plates out of the warming oven to place back on the table. Once he'd eaten Matthew took his leave, disappearing into his bedroom.

"What was all that about?" Marilla hissed when they were sitting by the parlour fire, Josephine in Gideon's arms.

"Your brother is confused, can't say much more than that."

"You were out there long enough. It was strange eating my dinner by myself, lonely like."

"Sorry about that."

"So, you're not going to explain further?"

"Not at this point," he said patting the baby on his shoulder.

A few days later Matthew found himself alone with Marilla. He'd done his best for the previous few days to stay away from her, but happenstance found them together in the kitchen. "What's the matter, Matthew?" she said. "You're not yourself."

"Nuthin'."

"Really? That's it. Nothing," she turned on him. "You and Gideon were out in that barn for hours the other night and came in with no explanation and I get a nothing from you! Don't you think I deserve more than that?"

Matthew looked at her with anguish in his eyes and went to escape once more but found himself trapped by her iron grip on his forearm. "Oh, no you don't. I want to know what's up, what's wrong."

"I can't Marilla. I just can't. Leave me be!"

Frustrated Marilla let him go and watched as he strode out to the barn.

She found Gideon in the sewing room. "Can't you tell me at least?"

"It's for him to say. He took me into his confidence, ketzele. I can't break that."

"But I'm his sister for goodness sakes. Surely, I deserve to know." Gideon looked at her ruefully but did not reply.

"Can you at least tell me that he is safe?"

Gideon sighed. "It's complicated, ketzele. I think he will be, and I pray that he will let you in. But you must let him come to it in his own time. Meanwhile just treat him like normal, please."

Exasperated, Marilla gave a huff and rolled her eyes. "Feels like you two are in cahoots against me. As if I don't have enough going on," she said pointing towards the baby nestled in her chest.

Gideon got up from the sewing bench and approached her, "I know you do, and I'm sorry all this is happening. I assure you we aren't acting maliciously. Matthew just has some things going on, he'll come round eventually."

"God willing."

"Ach, yes, God willing. Come sit by me. I'm a bit stuck on this bit."

Suspicious that Gideon was feigning ignorance, but happy to help regardless Marilla sat by him and together they worked through the problem. "Don't think I'll forget."

"Of course not, ketzele. Just give him some time."

"Men!" Marilla told the baby when she nursed her next. "They're impossible at times."