"Is everything alright?" I whisper.

He smiles softly. "All is well, Ada. Just a little tense this morning."

"Ah, I see," I say, taking a deep breath before asking, "How is Hazel?" His jaw clenches, confirming my suspicions. "Now I definitely see."

"I don't wish to talk about her," he says firmly. I nod in understanding.

"Of course."

As Daphne coos over Delly, Alexander and Father join in, their faces lighting up with joy as they interact with the little bundle in Daphne's arms.

"Look at her, she's adorable," Father remarks, his gruff voice softened by the sight of the baby.

Daphne smiles proudly, rocking Delly gently. "She's such a sweetheart," she says, casting a glance at Bash. "You must be so proud, Bash."

Bash's smile widens, and I can see the pride shining in his eyes. "I am," he replies simply, his voice filled with emotion.

"It's wonderful to see a happy family," Aunt Jo chimes in, her eyes twinkling with warmth.

I glance at Gilbert, who is watching the scene unfold with a soft smile. Our eyes meet, and I can see the same warmth reflected in his gaze.

"It really is,"

As the afternoon sun casts a golden glow over the orchard, we continue to pick apples, the laughter and chatter of our gathering filling the air with a sense of warmth.

Delly seems to be enjoying the attention, giggling and babbling as she interacts with each member of our group. Even Bash's tense demeanor seems to have softened in her presence, a small smile playing on his lips as he watches her.

We finally decide to head back inside to freshen up for dinner. Delly is already starting to doze off in Bash's arms, her little eyelids drooping as she snuggles against him.

Once inside, I head to the kitchen to prepare dinner, deciding on a hearty stew and an apple pie made with the apples we picked earlier. As I start chopping vegetables and peeling apples, I can't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over me. Cooking has always been a comforting activity for me, a way to express my love and care for those around me.

Just as I'm about to start on the pie crust, Gilbert walks in, having finished freshening up. He gives me a warm smile as he rolls up his sleeves and joins me in the kitchen.

"Need a hand?" he asks, his eyes bright with enthusiasm.

I nod gratefully, handing him a knife to help with the chopping. We work side by side in the kitchen, peeling apples and making the stew.

"I think today went well." I smile proudly. "Other than Bash having a miserable morning."

"Agreed. I enjoyed getting to know your family better." Gilbert swiftly chops up some apples into some thin pieces.

"You and Alex seemed to really hit it off." I remark.

"Yes he was telling me about how he knew I liked you and how I could've secured you sooner." He snickers.

I scoff. "What am I to him? A piece of cattle?"

"I don't know about that." He shakes his head. "Did you know that he and my father placed bets on when we would get together?"

I gasp as a laugh escapes my lips. "What? No way."

"It's true. I found the contract in my father's drawer." He smiles and it brings me some comfort. Loss is hard and I'm glad that it's easier for him to talk about John now.

"So who won?" I inquired.

I watch as his lips turn up and he says, "My father did."

We share a laugh at the revelation, the lightness of the moment filling the kitchen. As we continue to work together, the familiar rhythm of our movements creating a sense of ease between us, I can't help but feel grateful for Gilbert's presence by my side.

"So, what's next on the agenda?" Gilbert asks, glancing around the kitchen with a playful grin.

I pause for a moment, considering our options. "Well, the stew is simmering nicely, and the pie crust is ready to go. I suppose all that's left is to assemble the pie and pop it in the oven."

"Sounds like a plan," Gilbert says, rolling out the pie crust with practiced ease. "But first, I have a question for you."

I raise an eyebrow, intrigued by the mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh? And what might that be?"

He leans in closer and swipes his finger over my nose. "Gotcha."

"Seriously?" I roll my eyes.

Instead of answering, Gilbert picks up a small apple slice and flicks it gently in my direction. Before I can react, it lands right on my forehead.

I gasp in mock indignation, my hand instinctively flying up to wipe the apple slice away. "Hey, what was that for?" I protest, trying to suppress a smile.

He shrugs innocently. "Just having a bit of fun," he replies with a playful twinkle in his eye.

I can't help but laugh at his antics, feeling a sense of lightness and joy wash over me. Without hesitation, I grab another apple slice and retaliate, flicking it back at Gilbert with as much force as I can muster.

The slice lands squarely on his cheek, leaving a sticky residue in its wake. He blinks in surprise before bursting into laughter, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Alright, game on!" he declares, grabbing a handful of apple slices and launching them at me with abandon.

As Gilbert and I engage in our impromptu apple slice war, the sound of approaching footsteps catches my attention. Before I can react, the kitchen door swings open, revealing Daphne and Alexander standing in the doorway, their expressions a mix of confusion and amusement.

"What on earth is going on in here?" Daphne asks, her eyes widening in surprise as she takes in the scene before her.

Gilbert and I freeze mid-throw, apple slices clutched in our hands as we exchange sheepish looks. I can feel my cheeks flushing with embarrassment, but there's no denying the laughter bubbling up inside me.

"We, uh, we were just..." Gilbert stammers, struggling to come up with a coherent explanation.

"Having an apple slice fight?" Alexander finishes for him, a grin spreading across his face as he takes in the chaos of the kitchen.

Daphne shakes her head in disbelief, but there's a glint of amusement in her eyes. "Only you two would manage to turn making a pie into a food fight," she remarks with a laugh. I can't help but join in, the tension of the moment melting away as laughter fills the air once more.

Devoted To You || Gilbert BlytheWhere stories live. Discover now