She felt quite ill. Her stomach churned. Mouth watered from bile. Swallowing, Jo pushed away her unease. His sweet words rang in her ears. They were frantic, desperate words filled with as much long as his touch had been. Actions matched words. Never had dear Teddy been so earnest or honest.
It was too much to bare right then and right here. It was too soon after Beth's death and burial. Jo's feelings of grief and angry were too close to the surface. Much like a hurt fox, she lashed out with abandon. Intense feelings marred her deep down needs.
But still, Jo couldn't believe the words that slipped from her lips. They rushed out as a conglomeration of noisy lies. They couldn't be stopped. Her brain screamed at them to stop. They weren't real! They weren't how she felt for dear, sweet Laurie. Throat tightened with every word. Stomach churned. The handful of times Jo apologized and every single time she shook her head, it was her way of telling Laurie her heart's desires and to clue him into the truth. However, the author suspected the graduate didn't catch her drift.
Those were spoken out of fear. Fear to love and fear to commit and even fear of being hurt. But, oh! how she hurt. Would marrying have compromised her feminist ideals? Would she have been a hypocrite for saying yes? Jo had prattled on and on to Meg about independence and not needing a man for fulfillment. Yet, desire said otherwise.
Tormented and full of despair, the author ran from where his impromptu proposal happened. Down the hill, through the fields, clattering along the cobblestone streets, Jo fled with tears pouring down her face. Her skirt snagged on wheelbarrows propped against a barn. It didn't stop her aimless journey into the woods. Her hair fell from a bun when she ran under a low-hanging tree bough. Behind her came a familiar growl. The sound elicited a scream from her parched lips. The Moffat's guard dog chased her deeper into the forest. Jo climbed the first sturdy tree she came too in attempts to escape its gnashing teeth. "How did I even get this far? I can't even see any houses. I must be at the end of the town," she wondered, clinging to the branches for dear life as the dog pawed at the trunk.
At some undetermined point of time, the dog tired of its pursuit and left its post beneath the tree. Relieved, Jo sighed. That contentedness did not last for long. To make matters worse the sun set behind growing clouds as it began to rain. Clothes soaking through and her perch becoming slicked with rain, Jo's gripped slacked and she fell from the tree. Landing hard on her feet, she cried out as one ankle twisted in her boot. She sunk to the ground. With tears pouring down her face and teeth chattering from the cold, wet night, Jo prepared to stay put until morning.
Sometimes breathing was the hardest thing she could ever do. The involuntary muscles that pulled air in and pushed air out just didn't want to work. Ribs didn't want to contract or expand to give room for the nourishing oxygen. A corset would've made it even more of a challenge. In this moment she was exceedingly grateful for her obstinence and stubbornness. Both Meg and Marmie had pressed her to don such restrictive clothing. Jo was too much of a free bird to listen.
From the cold, the constant stream of tears, and now the pain from her ankle injury caused her body to fight itself. There's a bit of panic mixed in, too, if she were being honest with herself and it seemed in this dreary night she was being completely honest. Mind raced with thoughts. First, they were silly. Who thinks about corsets in the middle of a nighttime rainstorm? Of course she would think about that. That was just her. That was how her mind worked in times of strife and tribulations. It was easier to think about garments then how her world felt as if it were caving in.
But then, those ponderings turned towards grim thoughts that fueled her panic. No one knew she was out here. Likely her presence was missed. The March family must be in a state of terror. It wasn't like Jo to linger away from home for six or seven hours at a time. So found herself panicking for her family. She panicked for herself too. What she died of pneumonia out here? What if a nocturnal creature attacked? What if the Moffat's dog came back?
Of course I'll get home. Don't be silly, Jo, she scolded herself. But once home then what? I can't face Teddy. Oh dear Teddy. A sob coughed out of her as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders in a vain attempt at warming herself while trying to offer herself comfort.
Rustling startled her from wallowing, at least for a moment. Her fingers searched the ground for a stick or a rock or anything to protect herself. Her fingers grasped the tiniest of twigs and limpest of leaves. Neither item would be useful tools of protection. Thankfully there was no need for fighting. She gave into the fear, the pain, the grief, the relief, and just sobbed. She reached forward, desperate for his embrace. He understood and rushed to her side in an instant. Laurie fell to his knees on the ground beside her and when he did, Jo leaned her head against his shoulder and wept.
"Shh. Shh. It's all right, Jo. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere," he whispered. His voice sounded so very pained – as if her mere presence was a fire and her touch was a burn. "I'll get you home. You don't have to worry about a thing. I've got you."
"Oh, Teddy. I'm sorry. I'm not composed. I must look a fright," she whispered, sniffing a bit and blinking back both rain and tears. "This is an utterly dreadful moment."
"You have nothing to apologize for. It's all right. You're safe," he assured her. "But, I must know why are you out here? You're quite a ways from home."
She shook her head against his shoulder. She couldn't answer that. It was embarrassing. It was so vulnerable and these emotions left her feeling so weak. Jo didn't like it. Laurie didn't press her.
"Can you tell me what happened?" he asked. Changing the subject to a bit of a less tumultuous experience seemed proper. His voice still sounded grieved, but there was added curiosity. "Please?"
"I fell out this tree behind me. Did you know that's what all the girls are doing? It's all the rage. I'm decided to join in the fad." Jo laughed. Her joke was horrible. Deflection – something the author was very good at.
"I see. I'll have to study up on the habits of ladies. I didn't realize that was the case," he said. A smile flickered on his face; it even met his eyes. "But that can be for later. For now let's get you home. We can call the doctor and get you into dry clothes." He released her from the embrace and stood up with leaves sticking to his legs. He grabbed hold of her hands and started to pull her up.
She gasped when she put a little weight on her foot. "Teddy, no. Please. I can't. I injured myself when I fell. See, the Moffat's guard dog chased me. It was going to attack. So I climbed a tree until it left. I was fine until it rained. I lost my balance," she explained. She didn't have an answer to why it was hard for them to be apart, but it really did seem that way. "I don't know. I guess I'm just magnetic. Maybe the world knows I lost my way and we needed to see each other once more. I wasn't telling you the truth earlier today. I was so very afraid. I was figuratively running away and then I literally ran away. You must think I'm so silly."
"I'd never think you were silly, Jo. Never in a million years," he assured her. "I'll carry you. Don't worry. I've got you. Just hold onto my neck. I'll do the rest." He knelt and scooped her up so her knees were bent over his arms, her head rested on his shoulder, and her arms were wrapped around his neck. Shifting Jo's weight a little, he headed back to the March's home.