by Tanya Chang

Completed 2001/01/15

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A northerly wind swept through the sleeping town of Concord, Massachusetts, gripping it in winter's embrace. The night was cold, as it had been for many days already, and fireplaces and stoves were being tested for endurance as the citizens of the town tried to stay warm.

Behind the woods to the west of the town, lights still shone in the windows of Plumfield and pair of shadows could be seen against the parlour curtains. Above the roofline of the house, beyond the widow's walk, the full moon cast an eerie glow against the few slivers of silver cloud that dared to brave the chill.

Carefully placing another log on the fire to fuel the dying flames, Nick was grateful for the warmth it offered. He didn't often stay the night in the house, but a week of temperatures close to twenty-five degrees below zero had made the barn unbearable at night. He felt sorry for the farm animals, but knew ha and the kids had done all they could to keep them comfortable.

"Do you think there's any end in sight to this cold snap?" Jo asked from where she sat on the sofa, curled up in a quilt that Marmee had made for her when she had been pregnant with Rob. It was the quilt that she and Fritz used to wrap themselves in to keep warm on cold winter nights such as this, but Fritz had been gone for over two years now, and Jo had learned to cherish the past while still looking forward to a new life with Nick and all their children at Plumfield.

"Eventually it's gotta end," Nick replied as he joined Jo and wrapped her in his arms to warm her a little more. "Spring's just around the corner. You'll see. Soon you'll be complainin' about the heat."

For just a few minutes more, Jo and Nick sat in companionable silence before Jo felt that sleep would claim her. It was tempting to stay with Nick by the fire, but she was still a woman of propriety despite her wild spirit.

"Goodnight, Nick," she said as she kissed him gently. "I'll see you in the morning."

Halfway up the stairs, Jo looked back into the parlour and smiled. In just that small amount of time it had taken her to cross the room, Nick had already fallen fast asleep.

***

It was just past dawn when Jo awoke, her face buried under her blankets to ward against the cold that nipped at her nose. A quick glance at the bright sun shining through her window made her groan. For once she wished for cloudy skies because that might be an indication of more tolerable temperatures. When it was so cold for so long, there was little chance of snow, but clouds would have given her some hope.

Jo dressed quickly, pulling on her warmest stockings under her dress and wrapping herself in a large wool sweater that had once belonged to her grandfather. It still smelled faintly of pipe smoke, and she breathed it in happily, remembering the days when he had worn this sweater and held her in his lap, telling her of his adventures travelling through far off lands.

Knowing that Asia would need help in the kitchen preparing breakfast for over a dozen hungry children, Jo quickly made her way towards the warm smell of brewing coffee. It was bliss to wrap her hands around the hot mug, and she thanked Asia for being such a treasure as she felt the bittersweet liquid warm her insides.

"Laurie should be here later this morning with some food supplies," Jo reminded Asia. "He's so good to us to brave this weather."

"Men like him are rare," Asia agreed, "but you've been lucky finding so many, Jo. First Laurie, then Fritz and Nick."

"Nick's been wonderful, too," Jo said, the love for him obvious from her dreamy smile. "He's outside chopping wood every day, despite the cold. I don't know what we'd have done without him, Asia... and without you. I've been blessed beyond words."

Once the children had all been fed and they had seen to their chores, Jo gathered them together in the parlour for the day's classes. The barn was still far too cold, and would be until the weather cooperated a bit more, so for the time being the Plumfield School was being moved right into the house as Fritz had once planned it to be.

Peering out the window as the older children worked on mathematical equations, Rob was the first to see Laurie's carriage pull up in front of the house. The horse's breath came in laboured puffs of air, and Nick quickly arrived to take the horse and carriage to the barn's shelter as Laurie walked up the steps to the door, a heavy box in his hands.

"Quite a bite to that wind," Laurie said as he put down the box in the hallway and removed his gloves to blow on his frozen fingers. "It doesn't feel quite as bad as yesterday," he admitted, "but maybe I'm just getting used to it."

Rob handed his uncle a mug of coffee which Laurie accepted gratefully, taking a sip before removing his coat to stay for a while. He wished, as he was sure Jo did, that Amy, Meg and the twins had come along so the family could be together, but Daisy had come down with a fever and her mother didn't want her to be outside for any length of time.

"She sends her love," Laurie said of his other sister-in-law, "as does Amy. They can't wait to see you again. How are you all doing here?"

"The children are getting restless, but they've been good," Jo said, smiling down at her son.

"Under these circumstances, a bit of restlessness is understandable," Laurie concurred. "I brought a few things to add some adventure to an otherwise cold day," he continued, revealing the contents of the box he had brought in earlier, and another box that Nick had placed beside it as he returned from the barn. The children's eyes lit up at the sight of more musical instruments than most of them had ever seen in their lives.

Violin quickly in hand, Nat began the impromptu musical lesson, and in no time, the house was filled with "joyful noise" as Asia called it, if not something akin to music.

"What do you call this?" Rob asked Laurie, pulling a heavy silver instrument and mallot from the box. It reminded him a bit of the piano in the parlour, but only in the vaguest sense.

"Xylophone," replied Laurie, careful to enunciate so that Rob would remember. "I believe its origins are African, but that might be an interesting lesson for another day."

"Yes, it certainly would be," agreed Jo as she smiled at all her happy children.

"Zebras and elephants are from Africa, too," replied Rob, and soon the cold was forgotten as the house was wrapped in the warm sounds of far off lands of sun, heat and adventure.

THE END