Free to Love (15 page)

“I’m sorry, sir. Maybe it was low then, but it looks as if that was only part of your problem.”

“Great!” Austin said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.

“We’re running behind now, but we’ll try to get the work done as soon as we can.
Probably in a day or two.”

As Austin gave the go-ahead for the repairs, his hopes dwindled. Would he ever make it to Canada?

Luckily, the hotel where
he’d
stayed last night was within walking distance of the garage.
He’d
go back and pay for another night. At least the beds were pretty decent, he consoled himself. And the high definition television in his room sure beat that pathetic little set Joanna had loaned him.

Back inside the same room again—no one had reserved it—he sank into the love seat and flipped on the early morning news.

“And now for the local events,” the announcer was saying in a monotone. “We’ve just received a bulletin from the Coast Guard and Oregon State Fish and Wildlife Services. Authorities have reported that during the early morning hours, a tanker struck a reef about fifty miles off the coast of Southport, resulting in a two-hundred-thousand-gallon oil spill.”

Austin’s jaw dropped. He sprang to his feet, his gaze fixed on the Anchorhold screen.

“Meanwhile, thousands of birds and marine wildlife are at risk,” the announcer continued. “Volunteers from all over the Pacific Northwest are flooding the beaches, trying to organize rescue efforts. Please stay tuned for further details.”

“Oh, no!” he groaned. Where was Joanna right now? Had she gotten involved?
Stupid question,
he answered himself with a swift mental kick. Of
course
she had! Ted too!

He gritted his teeth. His thoughts spun. He had no choice but to go back. He must call the garage immediately. Insist that they push the work through.

Ted needed him—and so did Jo.

***

Joanna worked tirelessly, not even stopping to snatch a few hours’ sleep. Twenty-four long hours had dragged on since
she’d
received the call from Ted. While the interns supervised the rescue efforts at the other two treatment centers, she and Ted headed up the work at Anchorhold.

Word about the oil spill had spread quickly and throngs of volunteers had met the challenge.

Irrepressible sadness filled Joanna at the sight of so many birds fighting for their lives, yet at the same time she felt unexpectedly encouraged. In less than two days, more folks had turned out than she had ever imagined. High school and college students, senior citizens, young families—the list went
on and on
.

Meanwhile, seabirds, both living and dead, were carried from the shorelines to waiting trucks and vans, then transported to the nearest treatment center. Some flapped with
fright,
others were weak and lethargic, on the brink of death.

The oil, roughly half an inch thick, had matted their feathers and soaked through to their skin, destroying their natural insulation and buoyancy. After triaging and tagging, the birds were warmed, tube-fed an electrolyte solution, and placed in pens. Later, after ample time to adjust to their new surroundings, they were given warm baths in a one percent detergent solution.

Joanna’s shoulders sagged with fatigue as she and a sandy-haired teenage named Derek bathed perhaps the hundredth bird
they’d
admitted several hours earlier that day.

While Derek held the disgruntled murre with gloved hands in a dishpan of soapy water, Joanna scrubbed meticulously, covering every inch of the bird’s body. So
far
it had taken nearly half an hour to unmat each layer of oil-soaked feathers, and by the time they were done, it’d most likely be double that time. Dental picks and cotton swabs proved handy for the especially tough spots.

The murre craned its neck and thrashed, shrieking whenever Joanna momentarily lost her hold on its pointed, dark bill. Everywhere about them came similar squawks, the steady murmur of the workers’ voices, the loud beating of wings.

“There, there,” Joanna crooned, while Derek helped her turn the bird onto its back to have its belly bathed next. “Once we’re done here and you’re nice and dry in a warm, clean pen, you’ll thank me for this.” She wrinkled her nose, still unaccustomed to the musky smell of wet feathers mingled with the more pungent odor of the crude oil.

“Nice and dry—sounds good to me,” Derek commented with a chuckle. He stared down at his own water-soaked jeans and laughed again. “My Mom’s gonna kill me if I catch a cold.” Though the community volunteers had donned make-shift aprons from plastic garbage bags, most
hadn’t
escaped the bursts of water caused by the struggling birds.

“When is your shift over, Derek?” Joanna asked, stifling a yawn. She looked down, suddenly aware that her own coveralls and boots were covered with the sudsy water also.

“I’m supposed to leave in about fifteen minutes or so,” Derek Answered. “Someone from my biology class is coming to relieve me. We’re getting extra credit for this.” He tightened his grasp on the murre and added eagerly, “but I don’t mind if I have to stick around longer. Helping here is really cool. Besides,” he added, “it was kind of fun staying up all night.”

Joanna nodded. “And as for me, I never dreamed so many people would turn out. It’s wonderful.”

“So when do we get to see whether the birds can float again?” Derek asked.

“Not for awhile.
They’ll
need to stay in their clean pens till they’ve had a chance to get over their trauma. If the birds have suffered injuries, like cuts or bruises, they’ll need time to heal physically also.” She smiled at the boy’s apparent eagerness and added, “And after the birds are tested in the float pools, many will need to be rewashed, dried, and tested again. This is perhaps the most crucial—”

The sound of a deep, flawlessly modulated masculine voice coming from somewhere near the triage station stopped her next words.

She tossed a look over her shoulder.

Austin!

Shock waves washed over her. She felt the color drain from her face. When had he arrived? How long had he been standing next to Ted, helping him assess the birds’ medical needs?
She’d
been so engrossed in what she was doing, she’d never even noticed.

For a split second, Austin looked up, met her eyes, and smiled.

She had to look away. Her pulse was racing much too fast. Her hands trembled as she refocused her attention on the struggling murre and started to scrub a little faster.

“You feeling okay, Ms. Sullivan?”
Derek’s voice penetrated her shock and confusion. “You don’t look so good.”

“I...
I’m
just tired. I guess... guess maybe I need some sleep.”

“Yeah, we all do.”

Why had Austin returned, she wondered, then decided
he’d
most likely heard about the oil spill on his Jeep radio and driven immediately back. But most of all, why had he come
here
? Why
couldn’t
he have chosen one of the other treatment centers instead? Goodness only knew
,
all three were desperate for skilled veterinarians. It was going to be next to impossible—no
utterly
impossible having to keep her composure with Austin Sullivan sticking so close by.

A short time later, after the murre was thoroughly rinsed and dried, Joanna wandered into the employees’ lounge, where ladies from the community were serving hot beverages, fruit punch, and doughnuts.

She needed to get away for a moment. Away where she
wouldn’t
have to hear Austin’s voice, where she wouldn’t have to fight the temptation to steal just one more look at him.

Joanna helped herself to a cup of strong coffee and sipped it gratefully. Though volunteers filtered in and out, drinking from paper cups and chatting as if attending a church social, the tension beneath their smiles was all too apparent. More seabirds were arriving with each passing hour.

“I fed your cat.”

Joanna lifted her gaze. Austin was standing only inches away.

“What?”

“I said I fed your cat. I stopped by the duplex first... and noticed yesterday’s and this morning’s
Sea-scroll
on our...uh... your front
porch, so I thought I’d better go
inside to check on Silky.”

“Thanks,” she said tightly. She suddenly remembered
he’d
never returned his key. “But rest assured, I didn’t forget my personal obligations,” she went on. “The next-door neighbor agreed to make sure Silky had plenty of food and fresh water in case I couldn’t get home often enough to take care of that. And Lucille’s back now to look in on Aunt Marcella.”

He hesitated,
then
said gruffly, “I wasn’t inferring you were ignoring your responsibilities. But right
now
I think you’d better go home and hit the sack. I bet
you’ve
been up all night. You look exhausted.”

“You don’t look so hot yourself.”

“I suppose not. I drove straight through.” He lowered his voice. “I’ll explain everything to Ted. Tell him it was my idea you take off.”

“I can’t go home. There’s too much work to do.”

His gaze was steady, unwavering. “It’s not good, Jo, you pushing yourself this way.”

She struggled to keep her temper at bay. Who was he to show up like this again, totally unannounced, then tell her how to run her life? His responsibility for her was done.
Over.

“Tell me something,” she said, changing the subject. “Exactly why did you come back? Was it your underlying sense of duty, Austin?”

He flinched,
then
wrenched his eyes from hers. “Isn’t that what you wanted?
For me to get involved with the rescue efforts too?”

“Of course.
But that depends on the reason behind it. In other words, don’t do me any favors.” She folded her arms across her chest, silently challenging him to look at her again.

He did.

“I came, Joanna, because I knew I was needed. It’s that simple.”

“Ah, so like you. But is that the sum of your well-ordered life? Austin Sullivan, the good guy.
Everyone’s hero.”
The spite she heard in her voice surprised her. Maybe she was more exhausted than she realized. Or maybe she loved him far too much. More than she could ever admit to herself—or him.

“And getting back to your pointing out what’s good for me,” she hurried on, giving full vent to her anger, “there’s no need!
You’ve
fulfilled your promise to your little brother. His merry widow is finally safe and secure. From now on, you can jolly well wipe her from your mind and conscience.”

His eyes suddenly sparked with... with what?
Anger?
Confusion?
Regret? Certainly
not
love.

“Look,” he ground out. “We need to get this settled.” He
glance
first left, then right. “Let’s go outside.” He yanked at the top button of his shirt collar, and it popped off. “Besides, it’s getting too blasted hot.”

“If you intend to rope me into another one of your talks, forget it. How can you deny it?” He squared his jaw,
then
impaled her with his magnetic gaze. “Come on. My Jeep’s in the parking lot.” Clasping her hand in his, he led the way.

A rush of cool air assaulted her as they hurried outside.

“This is ridiculous, Austin!” she protested. He swung open the passenger door and waited while she climbed inside. “We said good-bye two nights ago.”

“I think we have more to say than simply good-bye.” He slammed the Jeep door, then stalked around to his side and slid in.

“Like what?”

“Like what’s eating you? Why are you angry with me? I was only doing what Kyle asked. Wouldn’t you do the same for
your
little sister?”

She
couldn’t
bear to look at him. Tears of humiliation and hurt were flowing too fast. How could she face him and admit
she’d
fallen in love with him? It was impossible—and foolhardy.

“Of course, I’d help Stacey,” she said between sobs. “But that’s different.
A whole lot different.”
Getting a hold of herself, she continued in a torrent of breathless words. “I’m not sure exactly what you plan to do now or how long you intend to stay. But I think it’d be best if we don’t see each other—except, of course, for the unavoidable times here.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying, Jo.
You’re
exhausted.
Wiped out.
You’ll regret this later, believe me.”

“No, I won’t.”

“Joanna.” The edge in his voice had softened. “Please! Please don’t do this.” He lifted her chin in one palm, his eyes imploring. Softly he grazed her cheek with his other hand,
then
wiped away the moisture. Pressing her hand to his lips, he held it there for an immeasurable moment.

New tears fell, bittersweet, splashing onto his hand.

“Let me go!” She pulled away, then shoved open the Jeep door and dashed back inside Anchorhold.

She
couldn’t
allow him to keep playing with her heart this way. It was already shattered into too many pieces.