Regretful that she would not get to speak with her Princess but knowing her daughter would understand the gravity of the situation, Amy waited the appropriate time before grabbing her wrap and hurrying out the front door.  Jo was out—alone—with Austin, and she just knew a proposal could be expected within the hour.  And of course, Meg just had to be the first one to know, even if before the bride herself!
 

Poking his head over the edge, Dan smiled a bit when he saw the pretty blonde girl carefully glancing around the opening in the loft.  "Hidin' from a monster?" 

Bess jumped, jerking to face him with a startled, wide eyed and open-mouthed expression.   "Dan!" she chided, "Don't scare me like that."

He offered an impish grin as he finished climbing up.  "Sorry.  What're you watchin' all quiet like that?" 

Fear forgotten, she giggled softly and turned back to resume her observations.  "It's Mr. Bracken and Aunt Jo.  They're going on a picnic!"  She breathed a long sigh.  "He's such a gentleman—and soo romantic.  Don't you think?"

Normally Dan would have found it amusing, her silly notions, but he was a bit puzzled with what she had just said.  "Mrs. Jo's goin' with Mr. Bracken?"  He was a nice man, and he had lots of interesting stories to tell.   "But ain't she supposed to be goin' with Nick?"

Bess shrugged.  "I thought so.  He left, though, and apologized." 

"He left?"

"He had something urgent to take care of in town.  Feed or something before a storm blew in?"

Dan frowned.  "He asked me ta go for 'im so he could go with Mrs. Jo."

It was Bess's turn to be puzzled.  "He did?"

"Yeah, I was just 'bout to hitch up the wagon and head out."

"But he should have taken the wagon," she protested, growing more confused.  "He couldn't carry it back."

Her perceptiveness was rather impressive—especially considering she spent a good deal of the day deciding on what dress to wear for the following one—but he had to chuckle at the last remark.  "Not even Nick could do that, but no, the wagon's just outside.  I saw it comin' in."

"Oh…"

"Seems kinda odd, but I guess Nick must have a good reason for whatever happened.  I gotta go into town, though, and get that feed.  I guess the worst that can happen is we see each other at the general store, huh?"  He grinned.

Bess nodded, averting her gaze then from the outside to the dark haired boy standing opposite from her.  "Guess so."

"See ya later, then.  Oh, if Mrs. Jo gets back firsts and asks, would ya tell her where I went?"  With her second nod, Dan turned to leave.  

"Wait, Dan?" she called suddenly, moving to follow him. 

He glanced above the edge of the loft.  "Huh?" 

"Can I come, too?"

A slow grin spread across his face.  "Yeah, alright.  Sure."

Bess beamed.  "Good."
 

Nick stood, resting with his back to the pantry door as he banged his head softly against the wood.  How was it, with so many people in the big yellow house, that no one had heard him yet?  

He grunted and knocked his head back again.  Asia would be out hanging clothes, so of course, she'd not be in the kitchen to notice his banging until she finished.  And, if they were doing what they were supposed to be doing, the children would be going their various ways with chores and homework.  Which, because of Jo's meddling and self-ordained matchmaker younger sister, left him with bleak prospects.

He'd just have to wait it out . . . and bang on the door some more.
 

"Oh, Meg, it was absolutely splendid!  Providence, indeed," Amy gushed, spilling all the details to her partner in crime.  "We must start planning the wedding—you never can prepare for these things too early!"

"Amy, really," Meg rationalized, ever the practical one.  "Don't you think you're getting ahead of yourself?  Nick and Jo are still courting—even if she did go on an impromptu picnic with Mr. Bracken.  They're simply old friends, and she'd not just throw aside a commitment like that, especially not after the trivial occurrences they roughed to get to that point."

"But he's her soul mate," the youngest March daughter protested, her romantic notions as strong as they had been when she was a young girl.  "Don't you agree?  I don't see how you couldn't."  Amy frowned, then spoke again. "While I know Jo can be more responsible than to disregard something so important, there are some exceptions to the rule.  And this, my dear, happens to be one of them!"

Meg's smooth brows furrowed.  She was not in complete agreement with her sister's doings—but while she knew Amy had a tendency to be histrionic about most things, it seemed she was most convinced about this?  And Austin and Jo . . . they were so alike, their interests and goals.  He was intelligent and adventurous while still within the restraints of society and perhaps—perhaps he could be just the sort of person Jo needed?  

He was schoolteacher and a lover of children, that much had been obvious from the delightful dinner at Plumfield.  He would be a compatible person to help her run Plumfield, and with a respectable man, the town would be more willing to send their own children, less eager to keep her dark-haired sister under scrutiny for every little action.  

"Oh, Amy," Meg sighed at length, her thoughts suddenly going back to Nick.  Dear, self-sacrificing, capable Nick.  What would Plumfield do without him?  The children?  Jo?  

As much as they seemed to have enjoyed Austin, they had a special place for the rugged sailor in their tender hearts—Dan and Nat especially.  He was like the father Dan had never known; the protector and comforter Nat needed after the loss of his own.  

"Well, what do you think?" Amy persisted, having apparently babbled on about something during Meg's train of abstractions.  

"What?" she asked, bewildered.  What a tangled web they had woven!

"I'm thinking we should have a luncheon—a sort of immediate celebration for their engagement before he returns to Quincy to gather his things.  No doubt, they'll want to celebrate," Amy presented what she thought to be quite reasonable.

"I don't know, Amy."  She hesitated, not certain how to handle the situation.  It had gotten so out of control, though while part of her wished to remain loyal to Nick, the other part of her could not ignore the obvious providential events.  How perfect Austin seemed for Jo, how perfect Jo seemed for Austin.  She cared for Nick, appreciated him, but could she ignore what could be one of the best things that could ever happen to her sister?

"Please?"

Breathing a small sigh, Meg rolled her eyes heavenward.  "Oh, all right!  All right."  One last little luncheon could not hurt, could it?
 

Jo glanced up from the fried chicken on her napkin, shading her eyes against the fading light of the usually intense afternoon sun.  "Oh, no, it looks like rain," she noted, unable to help a slight hint of disappointment from entering her tone.  "It seems storms appear at the most inopportune times!"  She managed a bit of a laugh.

Austin chuckled, carefully rubbing a smudge of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.  "I don't know about you," he said with a grin, "but not even rain could dampen my enjoyment of that chocolate cake!  You have a splendid cook." He quirked a brow.  "But then, it seems you have struck gold with both of your employees.  How did you come across Mr. Riley?"

Her head moved in a small nod of agreement.  "He showed up on the doorstep—almost literally—about a month after Fritz passed away.  He was going to be sailing out in a week, but he had offered to help out around Plumfield until then.  And, naturally, I agreed."  Jo's dark brows creased, remembering those particularly trying months following the death of her beloved husband.

"And he's been around since then?"

Jo nodded.  "To make a long story short, he ended up punching Captain Hoffman, a respectable man in Concord, for abusing his nephew, and he was arrested.  I arranged to have him released into my custody to finish out his 'sentence' and he's been at Plumfield ever since."  Her lips curved into a soft smile.  "We've been so lucky to have him.  The boys especially are fond of him, and he's been so good with them."  

Brushing a few crumbs from his pants, Austin glanced back up at her, the mischievous wonder if there might not be a certain fondness on her part for the caretaker as well planting itself at the back of his mind. "I noticed that last night," he recalled from the meal from the evening before.  "They hung onto his every word.  I'm glad for you, Jo.  You've had hard go at it, but you've made the best of it.  Not many women could have survived what you have.  It's a cruel world, this one."  

A flush of embarrassment touched her cheeks and she averted her eyes, fiddling with a snag on the picnic blanket beneath them.  "It's been hard, and sometimes I've wondered if I've just been stupid and naïve to carry it this far.  But when I look at the children, when I see them smile and hear them laugh, dry their tears, I know I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world."

Austin smiled, touched by her love and compassion for the ones in her care.  On a whim, he reached and gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  "Well, Jo March Bhear," he said with a wink, eyes sparking with sincerity, "I would say they're quite lucky to have you as well."

"Oh, you."  Jo laughed and gave his arm a playful shove.  "Are you still flattering the girls, after all these years?  Speaking of which," she paused, arching a teasing brow, "Did you ever stop mooning over that girl, Georgia Brown?"

It was Austin's turn to blush, and he tugged at the collar of his shirt.  "Miss Brown made it clear one day that I was not the fellow for her and quickly brought a halt to any boyish fancies I harbored."  He chuckled again, able to laugh about that oh-so-devastating event from years before.  The ones he had thought that, with bruised masculine pride, he would never recover from.  But alas, he had, and he was quite pleased with the life he had been blessed with.

"It's a pity."  Jo clucked her tongue.  "I think the whole boarding house was keeping tabs on the Georgia Brown-Austin Bracken predicament.  It was a constant point of lamentation from the ladies at my table."  

"It must have bored you so?"

"Dreadfully!"  She went along with him.  "Quite seriously I don't think I have ever suffered such dreary conversation before, not even when I spent my afternoons with Aunt March.  Gracious!"

Austin threw his head back and laughed out loud at that, greatly amused by her expression.  "Were my youthful quandaries so burdensome and unimportant to you, Mrs. Bhaer?  For shame.  I had always considered you a woman of much more compassionate means."

"Why—"  Jo's look of indignation brought another round of laughter, this time from both of them.  When they had quieted, she glanced at him, curiosity in her brown-eyed gaze.  "So, Mr. Bracken, if not with Miss Georgia, were there any other lucky ladies of whom you showered your attentions?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, resting one elbow on a raised knee.  "Well, as a matter of fact—"

A loud crack of thunder made them both jump and before either could gather their wits, a great downpour of rain was released from the darkened clouds.    

"Hurry!  If we go quick, we can likely make it back before too much damage it caused."  Ducking down in an instinctive action to shelter himself from the precipitation, Austin assisted her in gathering the picnic things.  Before long all signs of their lunch had been cleared, and Jo stood, one arm above her head as she waited for Austin to join her, the basket held tightly in his hand.

They quickly wove their way back through the rather tall grass, the occasional flashes of thunder followed rather closely with cracks of thunder.  "What did I tell you?" Jo asked, voice loud so as to be heard and hints of a smile on her features.  "Sometimes these storms come at the most inopportune times!"