Carrots Are The Best Vegetables

Chapter Eight

I know, short chapter. I'm uploading another one later this day. To be fair, I do try to upload at four times a week, so. 

Anne bound across the snowy terrain, with Gilbert inches behind her. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears, and her breath hitching with every step. Finally, the nearly-rotten chocolate wooden door appeared in her silver eyes like a sign of heaven, since her limbs were soon tiring, and her body seemed to be running out of its warm breath.

She felt her hands press against the door, and as she sprinted into the warm building, the door greeted the wall with a deafening BANG. "S-sorry..." Anne gasped for air, and continued her plea for help as Gilbert appeared behind her. "A boy's been shot... he's in Green Gables, please, sir..."

"Please." Gilbert repeated and watched as the older doctor stared at the children, before stepping outside of the dusted counter with a small hint of urgency in his veins. Gilbert and Anne trotted outside back to the Cuthbert's horse, as the doctor leaped onto his stallion, which was decorated with a saddle that was filled with certain medical supplies that Anne couldn't even name.

As soon as Gilbert and Anne had returned to their horse, Gilbert hopped on first, and looked down at Anne, who seemed to be struggling with the foot-holds that laid at the side of Gilbert's ankles. "Here, take my hand, Anne."

Anne hesitated for a second before grabbing Gilbert's gloved hand, and allowing him to lift her onto the suddenly towering mare. "Thank you." Anne murmured as the horse took off, and with each step,

Eventually, they'd made it to Green Gables, but not before the Avonlea doctor, but they'd still returned in nearly record time, and of course, as red as either of them had ever been, since their bodies had been pressed together nearly the entire ride back.

Once again, Gilbert hopped off of the horse, and let Anne take his hand so that she could get off of the horse without injuring herself again. "Thank you, Gilbert." Anne smiled briefly again before following Gilbert to the squeaky door that lead to Billy's limp body.

Gilbert couldn't lie... he wouldn't have cried if Billy passed away in the Cuthbert's den, but he knew that Anne would, since her kindness was too large for her own good. She'd be the only one to weep over her own shooter's death.

How he'd gotten injured was so ironic, and Gilbert didn't think that anyone had picked up on the fact that Billy was Anne's shooter yet, besides Cole and Gilbert; and perhaps Diana and Ruby now, too, since Cole might've blabbered to them.

Miss Stacy seemed curious as well, so Gilbert wasn't sure that the secret would remain a secret much longer. The question was, would she tell them, or would the hints hiding behind Billy's rifle barrel would lead them to the answer.

"Anne, you've returned..." Marilla met the duo in the front mud-room with a grave, yet hopeful face. "Billy is doing better, now that the doctor's arrived... what I suggest is that you spend the night with one of your friends, Anne. You won't retrieve much sleep with the boy's moaning."

"Okay, Marilla. I can stay with Cole, I think. I'll just get my stuff, be right down." Anne remarked before bounding up the stairs with a heaviness that was seldom visible before her shooting, or Billy's for that matter.

Somehow, Gilbert seemed to quench the hunger in her that begged for a part of Anne's soul so much that it nearly consumed her when he wasn't there, or to be fair, when she was just alone.

"Gilbert, since she'll be walking back with you, please just make sure you both return safely. The same goes for the path to school tomorrow." Marilla asked with a stern expression. Ever since her daughter had been shot, it was like she'd been severely burned, enough to leave a charred scar on her hand in the symbol of a crack, like it ran through her flesh and heart.

"I'll be sure to make sure she gets to Diana's safely, Ms. Cuthbert. I promise." Gilbert replied with a rush of relief when Marilla smiled back at him. "The Barry's house is on the way to mine, so it'll be no trouble."

"Thank you, Gilbert. Ah." Marilla wrapped her sleeved arms around Anne, who'd arrived with her school-bags, and a pair of clothing for the next day. "Be respectful at Diana's. I'm sure Mrs. Barry won't mind your staying, due to Billy's state." Anne nodded, and began to slip outside of the squeaky door, before glancing one last time at Billy, who was laid across her couch.

"Goodnight, Marilla."