Free to Love by Sydell Voeller Page A

said. “I’ll be holed up in some fishing shack, living the good life.” He rummaged through a box in search of the extra bag ties, then glanced at his watch. Hopefully the local service club would show up in time to dish out the traditional picnic lunch, he thought anxiously. If he and Ted had to take charge of that, too, those poor volunteers might starve.
    “You in a hurry to leave Southport?” the older man asked, snapping Austin back from his thoughts.
    “Yep.”
    “Why?”
    “I’m just Jo’s hired help—even though I’m her late husband’s brother.” Austin hesitated, realizing that Ted undoubtedly knew little, if any, of the circumstances. He told him briefly, then added, “To make matters even stickier, I’m practically the spitting image of Kyle—and because of that, it’s tough on Jo. She needs to get on with her life without my complicating it.”
    “And how do you feel about all this?”
    “Austin swiped a hand over his chin and sighed. “I knew you’d ask.” He paused. “Okay, here goes. Bottom line is, I’m not sure how much longer I can hang in there, living so close to her like this. Besides, it’s a guy thing, you know? I’d never take advantage of Jo—emotionally or otherwise.” Absently he brushed sand off the registration table.
    Ted nodded. “I’m sorry about your brother. Real sorry. And I read you, pal. You’d have to be blind, and probably half dead too, not to realize what a looker Joanna is.”
    “Yeah, and not only that. She’s caring, dedicated, intelligent .” His voice caught. “I’ve never known anyone quite like her.”
    For the next half hour they continued working, tacking up more posters, answering questions from inquisitive campers, and taking final inventory on registration supplies. All the while, they chatted companionably.
    Maybe this is what I’ve been missing back home, Austin thought. The small town camaraderie. Friends helping friends. Handshakes and clambakes instead of corporate back-stabbing and cocktail parties. In some ways, perhaps, it was a shame he hadn’t any intentions of staying around. Then too, he’d really taken a liking to Ted Ashelman.
    Austin looked down at his watch again. “I’m getting nervous, Ted.”
    “Why? You have an aversion to crowds or something?”
    “No. It’s the hot dog feed that’s got me concerned. Where’s the service club that’s supposed to handle it?”
    “Uh-oh.” Ted’s face fell. “I almost forgot. You’re right, Sullivan. The Lions Club. They were due almost an hour ago with Jake’s Wiener Wagon. They’re normally as reliable as the sun and the moon. If they haven’t shown by now, then there must be some wrong.”
    The jangle of his cell phone sliced through his next words.
    “What? Speak louder, Jake! Our connection’s lousy.”
    While Ted talked, Austin watched a shadow pass across the older man’s face. “You sure there’s no other way? Isn’t there someone else who could bring in the supplies?” A long pause followed. “Oh, I see. Well, thanks for the call, Jake. Looks as if we’ll have to forget it this time.”
    “We’ve got a problem,” Ted explained, turning to Austin after he’d folded up the phone. “Jake was about ten miles down the highway when he called. The Wiener Wagon got stopped by a major mudslide that’s blocking both lanes of 101. Jake had no other choice but to turn back. No one’s been injured, thankfully, but there’s going to be big-time delays. It’s right near the tunnel on the north end of town.”
    “And there’s no one else who can fill in?”
    “Apparently not. Jake tried calling other club members, but they were either not home, or already involved at other registration sites.”
    Austin heaved a sigh. “Now what? The hot dog feed has been highly publicized. It’s part of the incentive to get people to turn out.”
    “True enough, but don’t overlook the obvious, Sullivan. If Jake can’t get through, then that’s probably also