I'm not going to apologise this time, as my friendly readers will know I've been attending to another story so these two (three) went by the wayside for a while, but fear not. I never forgot them.

Will you come?

Three tiny words. So simple surely. So easy to agree. So needed and yet. And yet. At the time Gideon had smiled and hugged Marilla but he hadn't the heart to actually answer the question. It was one thing to allow his precious daughter to be christened but for himself to enter that building was aummeglekh, impossible.

He had a trip due in the next few days, he was low on several supplies, and he hoped there would be some new trinket or goods to collect from the wharf as usual. It wasn't as though he felt compelled to buy Marilla something every time, but well things did catch his attention, items he knew she would appreciate. A trip to the Rabbi wouldn't go astray either, for once it wasn't the sort of issue he could discuss with Marilla. Life has a way of throwing up all sorts of conundrums I'd never have considered, he thought as he packed the wagon.

Waving Marilla and Josephine farewell Gideon turned the wagon towards town and beyond. Sometimes he wished Marilla could still accompany him as she had done in the past, but not this time. He needed some distance between them to order his thoughts and come to a decision.

She'd been so happy when he'd suggested they baptise the baby. The way her face lit up at the prospect. It broke his heart just a tiny bit. Her religion was central to her entire being as his was to him, but the fact was they were diametrically opposed. Though, he mused, slapping the reins on the horse's back, when you drill down, they're not so different I guess if we could just leave Jesus out of it. In a way, Gideon grimaced ruefully, you could almost blame him for his parent's murder. These were thoughts for himself, never to be shared with Marilla who worshipped Jesus with all her might. Sometimes they would discuss the difference, but both were wary not to stray too deeply into it and if one got too passionate the other would back away. As much as they loved each other, that was dangerous territory.

Marilla had once told Rachel that her faith was stronger than she gave it credit, that being married to one outside could not affect it and Gideon knew that was true. In some ways though, it would have made life easier if he could have influenced her, but he loved her for her strength. "Ach," he said to the horse, his mind swirling with all these thoughts and feelings. "I should be a horse, then it wouldn't matter."

Though Marilla never put it into words as such, those moments in the middle of the night were so, so precious. She smiled down at the baby, the crown of her head bathed in the soft, golden candlelight. "All finished? Let's get you back to bed and then your mama can get a bit more sleep before we have to face the day." With Gideon away, it would be up to her to get Matthew's breakfast on. It was all too easy to forget how much she relied upon Gideon especially first thing in the morning. And last thing at night, she remembered with a knowing smile as she crossed her legs.

Later that day she had Mrs McDougal coming by to do some sewing. She had not been in for some months, but she had approached Marilla in the mercantile. After the usual pleasantries she remarked, "my Jamie has shot up. Seems every time I see him, he's grown another inch."

"Does he need some more trousers?"

"Aye and a couple of shirts as well as his chest is expanding."

"You must come across and we'll fire up the sewing machine."

"If you're sure you don't mind, you're very generous."

"Of course not. I'm always happy to have some company, especially as Gideon is away at present."

Since it was to be a sewing afternoon rather than tea, Marilla only set out two cakes and a plate of cookies. Ordinarily she might have baked her famous plum puffs, but she reasoned they might prove too messy around the fabric. They were delicious to be sure, but it was nigh on impossible to consume them decorously. While Mrs McDougal would be working on the sewing machine, Marilla had her own, important, project. When she had been young, she had, like her peers, assembled a hope chest. All manner of goods, embroidered by her own hand and her mother's. Handkerchiefs, undergarments, night gowns, doilies… the usual array a married woman would need to take to her new home. Reverently pulling away this mass of delicate goods which had in many cases never again seen the light of day, Marilla finally fetched upon a small white piece and pulled it out for close examination.

They had worked on it together. A rare moment in time when both her mother and she had been in agreement. She recalled the way they had sketched their plans in advance, full of hope for the future. Sighing sadly for what never came to pass Marilla laid the gown down on her bed and sat beside it. "It was a long time ago after all, what do I have to be sorrowful about. You just came a bit later than imagined, didn't you little one." The gown may have been planned for John Blythe's child, but it would do splendidly for Gideon Hoffer's.

Proudly she showed it off to Fiona McDougal while young Phillip played on the floor at her feet. "Oh my, look at that beautiful work, such exquisite stitching. Did you make it, Marilla?"

"Together with my mother. She made the rosebuds."

"Gorgeous."

"It's been sitting at the bottom of my hope chest for a long while." Marilla sounded almost apologetic.

"Time it was used then."

"It is that." Marilla sniffed, "smells a bit musty. I'll give it a wash and see if it needs fixing afterwards."

"I'll be pleased to help if you need a hand."

"Thank you. I would appreciate it. Might be a bit big for her. I probably envisaged a larger baby."

"Your wee totey Josephine is growing though."

"She is."

"I always marvel at that. At this stage she's getting all her nourishment straight from you. Has her sleep settled down."

"She's not too bad. I'm only up once in the night."

Fiona grimaced, "that's something I don't miss."

"Much as I regret the sleep, I don't mind those hours, when it's just the two of us. I get a lot of thinking done."

Both women paused then in reflection of those times when it was just them and their baby in the candlelight's sphere as though the rest of the world melted away. As Marilla came back to the present, she realised that rather than being alone with the baby in those moments, she was probably there in communion with countless other mothers, all awake with their babies in the wee smalls. With a shudder Marilla smiled at young Philip. "Shall we get you a cookie, young man?"

Fiona nodded her thanks before turning her attention to the machine. She was on a tricky bit and had to concentrate.

"Yoo hoo, anyone home?" The door banged behind Marilla's next visitor, and she rather felt, uncharitably she admitted, that the peace had been shattered.

"Rachel, how nice to see you. Mrs McDougal and I are just doing some sewing."

Rachel stopped suddenly, surprised that Marilla of all people had a guest and that it was not her.

"Good afternoon, Mrs McDougal," she said recovering. "How nice to see you here today."

"Good afternoon, Mrs Lynde. Mrs Hoffer was kind enough to lend me her sewing machine. It's such a saving to be able to run up a pair of pants for my boy, he's growing too quickly."

"I can relate with you there," Rachel shot a quick glance at Marilla. She had never been invited up to use the machine despite surely having a greater need.

Oblivious Fiona gestured to the gown, "Marilla's just been showing off her work. Isn't it exquisite."

Still annoyed Rachel turned to look and immediately her mood softened. "Oh, I recall the making of it."

"You do? Such a long time ago."

"True, but this real baby is just as needing of it as that other imaginary one." Marilla smiled, "I hoped you'd say that."

Marilla was just a tiny bit guilty about Rachel finding Fiona using the machine. She knew she should have invited her up to sew, but Rachel's large family required much in the way of sewing and mending, if she invited Rachel to use the machine, she'd be up every second day, and Marilla wasn't sure she could cope with that sort of intrusion. Still, it was a shame that now Rachel knew it was a possibility. Marilla wondered if Gideon could be persuaded to sell one to Rachel at a discounted price.

Hugging his coat around him against the chilly rain, Gideon made good time to Charlottetown. Upon setting up camp halfway across the island he recalled times past when he had happened upon the Roma family, how welcoming they had been. Hopefully they were thriving where-ever they had lately fetched up. They were not the sort to write so Gideon had no idea of their whereabouts, but he hoped they'd be back one day. Wrapped up in a blanket in his wagon Gideon thought on Marilla and Josephine tucked up in their Green Gables beds and sent his good wishes out to them. He missed them both more each time he left. Don't think I'll do this for too much longer, time to make new arrangements.

"Come in my son," the Rabbi welcomed him. "It has been too long. How are your family keeping?"

Gideon filled him in on the situation finishing, "I mean I can't stand in her way. But how can I step foot in that place?"

"How not?"

"You know my background."

"Ach, I do, I do. But remember, these Avonlea folk are not the same people who killed your family. They may be Christians, but they are not murderers. As the Yankies would say, don't tar them with the same brush."

"It's not easy."

"Who said it would be easy? Where is that written? The acts that are worthwhile are difficult, Gideon. Go, witness your child's baptism, be at peace. You are doing it for love, yes?" Gideon nodded miserably. "Love your wife and love that baby. God sees what you are doing and why you are doing it. Set your grief to the side. Two mountains can't come together, but two people can."

Feeling better about the whole situation Gideon packed up keeping a secret package safe in his pocket and turned the wagon for home.

Wiping her hands on her apron Marilla turned from the sink to greet him. It was the way of things for their little family, but she never felt anything other than profound relief when he was safely returned. Clasping him in a tight embrace she inhaled the scent of his waistcoat and noticed that his shirt needed laundering. Nevertheless, it smelt spicy and alluring. "Mm missed you," he said into her hair.

"As I did you," she said pressed against his chest.

Later sitting down at the table a fresh coffee in one hand he said, "bought you something."

Marilla shook her head, "you can't be bringing me gifts every time."

"Do I?" She nodded. "My apologies, ketzele I promise this is the last one."

"Well, I wouldn't go that far."

He grinned. "Anyway, this does look useful." He pulled a plain parcel out from his pocket and set it on the table. Marilla picked it up and opened it to reveal a fine white powder. "What is it?" she asked sniffing it and then sneezing.

"Baking powder."

"Baking what?"

"That's its name. It makes baking easier."

"I've never needed help in that regard, I'll have you know."

"Of course not." Gideon back peddled furiously, "but I have heard tell others sometimes do."

Marilla frowned pointedly before her face creased into a smile and she reached out to clutch his hand. "Thank you. I do appreciate all these little treats, even if sometimes I don't think they're all that necessary.

"Um, there's something else," Gideon added reluctantly.

"Mm?"

"I paid a visit while I was away."

"To whom?"

"My Rabbi. I needed to talk." Marilla looked at him queryingly. Gideon sighed. "I know I said we should baptise her, but when you asked if I'd be there, well…" he cast his eyes downward unwilling to see her expression.

"Ah." A pause. "And what did he say?"

"He told me to attend and to be joyful."

"Did he."

"Yes. I, I wasn't going to tell you."

"Why ever not?"

"I should be happy, Marilla. I shouldn't have any doubts."

"Can't see how that'd be possible myself."

He angled away from her, "you don't?"

"I have them all the time."

"You do?"

"It's not always easy."

"I think," Gideon spoke slowly picking out his words. "So long as I don't over think it, it's as easy as pie."

Marilla nodded at him, "yes, it's when I start over analysing that I get myself into trouble."

"Mm."

"Oh, speaking of which I have something to show you." Like Mrs McDougal, Gideon was amazed at the fine work on the christening gown. "Goodness, ketzele, it's beautiful. Those rosebuds and this bit here, how do you call it.?"

"Smocking."

"Smocking. It doesn't sound fine enough for the work that's gone into it. Smocking. Smocking. No, I don't like that name."

Marilla laughed. "Well, that's what it's called, regardless."

"Our Josephine will look so very beautiful in it."

"She will at that. I made it a long time ago. Didn't expect it would take such an age before it was worn."

"Any regrets? he asked quietly.

"Reg… oh no. None at all. This baby has two loving parents."

"Only one's a Christian though."

"You think I care about that? You think that keeps me up at night? I love you Mr Hoffer and I love our baby. Our baby d'you mind. The baby we created – together. Your brand of religion don't come into it. You love me don't you, you love us?"

"More and more every day."

"That's what matters, not who to or how you pray. Not your language, not your customs." She paused as a thought occurred to her. "You know, the beauty of it is, we can create our own customs. We're not beholden to anyone."

Gideon laughed with pure unadulterated joy, lifting her up for an embrace. "I love you Marilla Hoffer. You have such a way of looking at the world, as if you don't care tuppence for it."

Marilla laughed in his arms. "I don't really. All that matters is us." Then sobering she added, "s'pect we'll face a lot of criticism."

Gideon nodded, "we will."

"That's why we need each other. That's why we need to keep communicating, so that we present a united front, for us and for her."

"Ach, ketzele with you by my side I feel I can do anything."

"Even bake?"

Gideon looked mystified for a fleeing moment and then when realisation hit, he kissed her on the lips before replying, "ach, even that."