Free to Love by Sydell Voeller Page A

lucky.”
    “And likewise, I’ve never had a nephew. Nieces. All six of ‘em.” She chuckled. “Nothin’ but Barbie dolls and tea parties.” She turned to the bedroom. “Goodnight, Mr. Sullivan.”
    “Goodnight.” He paused. “And Aunt Marcella?”
    “Yes?” She turned her head stiffly.
    “Please call me Austin.”
    “Fine then. Austin it is.”
    He broke into a lopsided smile. And one more thing ...” He paused, his smile widening.
    “Go on,” she urged.
    “Better get right to sleep. I’ll see you again in exactly an hour.”
    A short time later, Austin struck a match to the kindling, split logs, and crumpled newspaper he’d arranged in the stone fireplace. Joanna had been right about the weather. Later that evening, thick fog had blanketed the coast, and now the house felt damp and chilly. He’d also noted this past week that the vine maple was beginning to turn. All that added up to one disturbing reality. Autumn was definitely in full bloom—and the fish up north were probably biting like crazy.
    He sank down into Marcella’s blue recliner that faced the fireplace, and stared into the dancing orange-red flames. Though the leather was worn and cracked, it felt familiar and comfortable—like a favorite old glove one hated to throw away.
    Stretching out his long legs, he heaved a sigh. His morning had started at the crack of dawn when he’d first received the news that the beach cleanup was still on. After that, one near catastrophe had given away to the next.
    He was tired. Damn. Sheer exhaustion was more like it. And he’d be getting little sleep in the hours that lay ahead. Not that he was complaining, exactly, he silently amended as he leaned back farther in the chair and listened to the fire crackle and pop. Somehow—and it was downright scary—it felt good to be needed. It felt good to realize there might be someone who noticed your coming and going, that you weren’t merely an isolated nonentity in this crazy, fast-paced world.
    But now two females depending on him? Unbelievable!
    He clasped his hands behind his neck, then chuckled in spite of himself. Yes, that’s what it was going to take to get him through. A sense of humor. Never in a million years would he have fathomed he’d get sidelined like this.
    Good thing it was only temporary, or was it? He was beginning to wonder if the end would ever come. It looked as if he’d be putting off that new roof for at least another week, if not longer, till Jo fully recovered. And now there was Aunt Marcella. He squared his jaw. Bottom line was , she required his help too.

     
    ***

     
    The following week ticked slowly by. Aunt Marcella recovered without incident, though Austin checked in on her faithfully twice a day. Sometimes he picked up her medicine, sometimes a bag of groceries. And sometimes he simply stayed to talk.
    Meanwhile, Joanna was making her own slow recovery. Her cough finally began to subside, and the rosy blush in her cheeks reappeared.
    Yet, in between running errands for Marcella, Austin continued to keep a watchful eye over Joanna. His concern touched Joanna in ways she’d never expected. Her feelings for him had only grown deeper—and a thousand times more chaotic.
    “What are you doing?” Austin asked the following Saturday morning when she appeared in the dining room dressed in a pale blue running suit. He was sitting at the breakfast nook table, reading the newspaper and drinking coffee.
    “I’m going for a run. I’ve been cooped up inside for far too long!” she exclaimed.
    “Whoa! Just one minute.” He clasped a restraining hand on her shoulder.
    “Just one minute what ?” she protested. “I’m going crazy!”
    “I understand, Jo. But you know as well as I do, you’ve got to ease back into your routine gradually. “You’re probably still weak—and prone to a relapse.”
    “I’m fine now. Besides, I told Trudy I’d be back to work on Monday. It’s also high time I started helping Auntie. I