Put your teacup down, Alinya.

Golden light suffused the island when harvest time drew near. "Crop's done well," Matthew declared one evening. "Harvesting'll be a big job."

"Sounds like a good problem to have," Marilla said swivelling around from the washing up to answer him.

"Mmm." Matthew was worried though. He wasn't sure how he was going to manage it by himself.

Much to Gideon and Marilla's delight Motshan and his caravan had set up camp on the outskirts of Avonlea for the first time. They had never spent much time in the area but were drawn by Marilla and Gideon's descriptions.

They were not as warmly welcomed by the rest of the townsfolk. The usual group of men congregated outside the mercantile to discuss the matter. "Disgusting, have you seen the mess they've made all sprawled out like that."

"Lock up your chickens."

"And your daughters," added another with a sardonic laugh.

"Not to mention your wives." There was much nodding and shuffling as this pronouncement hit home.

"We should run them out of town."

Matthew listened uneasily, caught between two worlds that of the town and home. He knew Marilla and Gideon knew and liked the gypsies but likewise his neighbours' reactions came as no surprise.

The baby had grown now and no longer fit under Marilla's dresses. A situation that neither were much happy about. Josephine expressing her distaste for the outside world lustily and often, regardless of the time.

Marilla and Gideon proudly showed off Josephine to their friends. She was welcomed by the family though Motshan took Gideon aside and offered his condolences that he had a daughter. "Sons bring you strength," he said. "A daughter not so much." Gideon understanding that the sentiment was born from goodwill merely replied, "don't let Marilla hear you say that."

Motshan roared with laughter, "why do you think we're way over here? Come my friend, I have some brandy."

They also had sad news to impart, Marilla's old friend Ethelinda had passed away recently and the whole family was in mourning. "It was her time," Motshan explained. "She's with God now. They sat down with Motshan and Kezia, the grass soft beneath them. Marilla realised it was something she seldom did at home and made a note to enjoy it more often. "It is good to see you so happy my friends," Motshan said. Gideon took Marilla's hand in his and smiled.

"Remember when we first met," Kezia added cradling Josephine in her arms. "You were so sad, so quiet and lonely. No wonder," she said to Marilla. "He was a lost soul."

"I'd only been on the Island a little while at that point."

"You were still traumatised," Kezia said. "And no wonder."

Marilla squeezed his hand. "Thank you for looking after him."

"That's what we do. We look after the broken hearted." Gideon squeezed Marilla back and used his handkerchief to wipe his nose. "But now, my friend," Motshan said. "You are so happy, and it shows. Thank you for taking care of him, Marilla."

Marilla smiled, "we take care of each other."

"Because you're in love." They smiled. "If I'd said that you'd find happiness again you'd have scoffed at the idea, but look at you now, Gideon," said Kezia. "It made Ethelinda happy to see you together. She loved you Gideon, and you as well, Marilla. It brings us so much joy, as do you, little one," she added smiling down at the baby. "She's beautiful, my congratulations."

Marilla looked somewhat bashful, "we think she's quite sweet."

"Are you getting any sleep?"

"Not all that much, I'll admit. Gideon helps when he can."

"I'd expect he'd be a good father."

"Here, hand her over," Motshan reached out. She seemed if anything even smaller in his massive hands. She gazed up at him with her dark brown eyes thereby melting his heart. One of the children came by to stroke her head.

The night had been long, the sun was warm and as the others chatted Marilla found her eyes slipping. She came to rest on Gideon's shoulder. "Oh, she's asleep, poor thing," Kezia said with utmost compassion.

"Bad night," Gideon said with a shrug.

Kezia got to her feet and brought back a light blanket. "You stay there. Let her sleep. I remember it only too well."

"Should I wake her?"

"No."

"She'll want me to. She won't want to sleep here."

"Take it from me, she won't be happy if you wake her. If I know anything about motherhood, let her sleep."

"What do you think?" Gideon asked Motshan.

"If I know anything about women, I'd say listen to Kezia."

"But the baby." Kezia scoffed. "Ach yes, I suppose you can manage."

"There'll be someone with milk to spare."

Marilla came to with a start. She blinked rapidly feeling the stiffness in her bones and the tight tenderness in her breasts. Looking up through the dappled sunlight streaming through the trees she slowly came to her senses. Kezia had been keeping an eye out on her and noticed her wince. "Here you are," she said handing Josephine over. "She had a little snack, but I knew you'd need to nurse when you woke." Marilla sighed with relief when the baby latched on and took her first few pulls.

Covered with dust and straw Matthew felt exhaustion overcome him. They found him out by the barn, fast asleep lying on a pile of hay. "Right," said Marilla when they'd roused him. "You need help and we," she gestured towards Gideon, "know exactly the right people."

"No," said Matthew. "I'm not having those gypsies. They're untrustworthy and workshy. Everyone says."

"How would you know, if you won't even give them the chance." Matthew stopped, confounded by her logic. "Well."

Just before eight the next day Matthew found his insurmountable job much eased. If they sang their songs in unfamiliar tongues, he did not much care for they worked harder so that within a few days the crop was brought in. Marilla was relieved because she had been a trifle concerned how she would feed them all, but Kezia bought the women along before lunch and together they set up a table outside laden with food. Never had the harvest gone so smoothly or so happily.

Kezia was chopping potatoes for that night's stew when Motshan found her. The steady chopping providing a staccato to their conversation. "Think I might have made a mistake," Motshan admitted.

"Mm?"

"Went around to Marilla and Gideon's you know. Gideon mentioned the stove cooked unevenly." chop, chop, chop. "Turned out to be a bit more complex than I expected."

"Oh?"

"We thought it would be done sooner, but the oven was still in parts when Marilla came home. I don't think she was best pleased."

The silence as the chopping stopped should have informed Motshan of his dilemma, however Kezia's low voice did, "I beg your pardon," she replied icily calm. "You went to a woman's house, a woman who has just had her first baby, a woman who I believe isn't getting much sleep and you tore her stove, used for heating and cooking, apart and not only that failed to fix it!"

Motshan studied his toes as she spoke only looking up with an embarrassed smile when she paused. "That's about the size of it."

"And you wonder," emphasising her words with her knife. "You wonder if she might have been a bit upset?" Kezia's quiet voice rose to a crescendo. "Out! Out! I can't stand the sight of you! Out!"

"But Kezia, it'll be dinnertime soon."

"Dinner? Oh, you have a cheek. Dinner! I don't think so."

Coercing a nearby child Kezia and said child made their way over to Green Gables each laden with a basket of food. Marilla greeted them at the door. "Hear you've had a bit of a day," Kezia said setting her basket on the table.

"I know I should be more appreciative, but…" Marilla sighed.

"Don't think anything of the sort. He was an idiot."

"I mean it came from a spirit of helpfulness. I hate to be churlish."

"Not at all," Kezia looked around the room. "He sure made a mess."

"He did a bit."

Kezia laughed and after a beat Marilla joined her. "Anyway," she said when she'd settled down, "brought you some food."

"Oh, there was no…" She was going to say need, but her words died on her lips for in truth they did need something that night. What with one thing and another, the baby and her lack of sleep Marilla had not much put by. "Thank you," she said sincerely. "It was very kind of you. You must have made a lot," she said pottering about in the basket's recesses.

"No more than usual."

"Oh Kezia," Marilla exclaimed as the import of her words struck home. "But Motshan…"

"We have enough," Kezia said. "Motshan was pleased to contribute."

Marilla dropped the cloth over the food. "He went without?"

"Do him good for once."

"Oh no, I can't deprive a man of his victuals."

"Don't worry about it."

"I feel awful, he acted with good intentions after all."

"Marilla," Kezia took her by the forearms and looked intently into her eyes, "I don't give a damn about Motshan's dinner. What idiot destroys a woman's kitchen when she gave birth not five minutes earlier."

Wincing initially at Kezia's cursing, Marilla smiled noting that the word suited the purpose perfectly. She laughed, "you are absolutely right, of course."

"Might make him rethink his actions next time."

"You mean he has a history of destroying women's kitchens?" Marilla asked with a smile.

"Oh Marilla, you don't know the half of it," Kezia laughed with her.

"You're too good to me."

"Not at all."

"I don't know," Marilla fiddled with the cloth. "I don't know how I'd have managed… I don't know how to thank you."

"You brought the smile back to our Gideon, that's thanks enough."

"Well, that was not difficult. He makes me smile too."

"Then that's even better. You two fit together. You were made for each other."

"I just thank the good Lord He brought us together."

Kezia embraced Marilla, kissing her on both cheeks. Marilla touched each one separately with the back of her finger, unaccustomed to feminine kisses. They felt softer than the male version, less prickly.

The next night the stove was still in pieces. Now Marilla was beyond frustrated, any feelings that she may have had regarding Motshan's generosity fully dissipated.

"Come down to the caravan for dinner," Gideon suggested. Absolutely the last thing Marilla wanted was to go down there. All she wanted was to eat her meal in peace and lie down next to the baby. "Will you join me?"

"No, you go. I'll be fine here with Matthew." Marilla watched him leave seething a little though she knew he'd only gone because she insisted. To her surprise he returned a short while later. "I didn't expect you so soon. Sorry if you felt you had to."

"It's fine."

"I know you love to spend time with them."

"I do, ketzele, but I love you more, both of you."

Marilla smiled and let him kiss her. "Now I have something we could use tonight," he said flourishing a bottle of Godfrey's cordial.* "Help the baby sleep."

"Oh," Marilla said wonderingly, taking the bottle from him. "Is it safe?"

"Ach yes, do you think I'd give our baby anything harmful. They call it Mother's Friend you know."

Marilla read the ingredients, treacle, and opium. "Hm, we could give it a go, I suppose. Anything to get her to sleep."

It worked. Josephine slept soundly as did her mother. In fact, Marilla had to wake her in the morning desperate to nurse. "Doesn't seem fair somehow," Gideon said. "Just when she let you sleep."

"You don't have to tell me," Marilla said ruefully. "Now you and Motshan must fix the stove today. I don't care how it works, just that it does."

"He's a perfectionist, wants to fix it."

"Yes, but his perfection is coming at the cost of my sanity. Put it back together today."

"Yes ma'am."

Motshan was apologetic. Together he and Gideon could be heard cursing and muttering as they reassembled the stove. Eventually they stood back and regarded their workmanship. "Should be better."

"Actually, I don't think Marilla cares all that much. She just wants to be able to cook."

"I know, I know. Sorry about that," he turned when he heard footsteps enter the room. "My heartfelt apologies Marilla. It wasn't supposed to take this long." Marilla regarded him and then her stove. "Well, I suppose I should be thankful," she said with a sigh regarding him frankly.

Motshan shuffled his feet nervously. "I am terribly sorry."

"Went without your dinner, I believe."

"I did. Kezia was most upset with me."

"Hm."

"I hope, that is I think it should work better now. Gideon said."

"Yes, well I don't actually care what Gideon had to say on the matter."

"Marilla…"

Stifling a yawn Marilla turned away from him and presuming their conversation was over Motshan beat a hasty retreat.

"Is it fixed?" was all Kezia said before she let him into their 'van.

"It is."

"I hope you apologised."

"I did."

"Well, that be a lesson to you."

"It will."

"I don't want to take our leave with any bad feelings between us, Motshan. I love Gideon and Marilla."

"I know, I do too. I was only trying to help."

"Oh, I know, I know. You just need to think these things through first. I know she seemed annoyed, but she appreciated your effort. You're a good man, my Motshan," she reached up to kiss him on the cheek laughing when he turned his head at the last moment so her kiss reached his lips.

The day finally came when the travellers had to leave. "We've been weaving our way around the island for too long," Motshan explained. "Time to visit the mainland."

They were sorry to see them go and embraced Motshan and Kezia warmly. Gideon had tears in his eyes as they watched them pack up the last of their belongings and climb aboard. Jangling and creaking the caravan started up and slowly made their way down the track disappearing out of sight when the road turned. Marilla hugged him tightly before they made their way home. "We'll see them again one day."

"With God's help."

"I'm so pleased," Marilla said slowly, "that we worship the same God. I'd still love you, but I will admit it makes it easier this way."

"I forgot to ask; did we fix the oven?"

Marilla harrumphed sardonically, "no. For all your work the oven hasn't change a whit. Oh no you don't," she said when Gideon turned. "Don't you dare touch it. I know the workings of it, haven't I perfected it over the years. Leave it alone."

"Can't believe it's unfixable."

"Well it is. I can't have you pulling it apart again. Just leave it, please."

"Motshan said to give you this," Gideon said, remembering. He held out a package.

"Goodness, whatever could it be?" She unwrapped the parcel carefully, laughing when a large square of patterned material fell out.

"Oh, I think…" Gideon said. "Um, give me her." He placed Josephine against Marilla's chest and fastened the material under the baby and over her back. "Look you can still be close but do more." Marilla looked down and swivelled around, Josephine jiggled with her but stayed secure. "I saw some of the mothers wearing them."

"I did too," said Marilla wonderingly. "I never thought." She danced a little enjoying the way the baby moved with her. Evidently Josephine enjoyed it too for she laughed when her mother moved.

* Don't worry the baby will have this very seldom, but it was commonly given to Victorian babies to keep them quiet.