The next day was Saturday and it was busy. Stevie took Jordan to the ME's office. For the next several weeks, Jordan would work with Stevie. When everyone was a bit more comfortable, Jordan would get her own vehicle and venture out some on her own. This was the State of North Carolina's ME office. The biggest difference between a state office and a county's office, was that the bodies came to the state's morgue. The downside to this, at least for Jordan, was that there was very little field work to do. The county ME offices, sheriffs, and police took care of that. But the upside was that she would get to see unusual cases from all over the state – stuff that wasn't so cut and dried. Stevie introduced her to Kathy Leland, her boss. Jordan and Kathy hit it off instantly.

"When Stevie told me your name, I thought you were going to be man," Kathy laughed.

"Don't worry, I get that a lot," Jordan had replied.

"Well, honey, you're definitely not a man, but to have you and Stevie working together, well, just the names are going to give the State Bureau of Investigation a fit. I can't wait."

Stevie and Jordan would also be sharing an office, at least until Jordan was comfortable. When she had arranged everything on her desk and in her files the way she liked them, Stevie then drove her over to Duke to show her where her classes were. Jordan would be in class for two sessions a week. First thing Monday and Wednesday mornings. She was introduced to Dr. Menesick, her professor. An older, Southern gentlemen with blue eyes and a shock of white hair, Jordan was instantly taken with his rich accent and elaborate descriptions of the gross things that can go on inside the human body. "He's going to be a hoot," Jordan thought. "At least he'll make it interesting." She also found out what the teaching end of her job would entail.

"Basically, what I need," Dr. Menesick had explained, "Is someone with the patience of Job who can show these moronic undergrads the insides and outsides of the body with the finesse of a sledge hammer and the subtlety of a fox in the hen house. Think you're up to the challenge?"

Jordan wasn't sure. "I don't know," she began.

"Nonsense," said Dr. Menesick. "You'll do fine. The best part is they just show up and you get to talk about whatever it is that you're doing that day ....autopsies, trace, whatever. Do you have any idea what that frees you from doing?"

Jordan shook her head.

"Blessed lesson plans!" Dr. Menesick roared. "I hate those damn things."

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Later that evening, Stevie and Jordan drove back to the Murphy farm. They had to go to Curtis's house to pick up Katie.

"I hope you don't mind, Jo, but Mom asked us to eat with her tonight. She's invited all my brothers. They're kind of in and out here a lot, so it's a good idea that you get used to them and know who they are. That way you won't worry about if that's a strange man over there watching you, or someone just trying to make sure you're all right."

Jordan nodded. Sounded good to her.

Barbara, Steve's mom, was cooking out that night. Curtis was manning the grill and she was setting out the side dishes and getting the ice cream ready to go in the freezer. Steve hopped out of her jeep and hugged her mom. "Mom, do you remember Jordan?"

Barbara set down the dish of pickles she was carrying. "I sure do. It's good to see you again, Jordan. Go inside and make yourself at home."

Steve had already gone inside to check up on Katie. Jordan cautiously opened the back door and stepped into the kitchen. To her, it seemed the room was filled with wall-to-wall Southern drawls that all belonged to these huge blonde men. Jordan remembered that Steve had five brothers. She didn't remember how big they all were. Suddenly, she felt like she was in the middle of a Panthers line up.

"Hey Jordan," called out one of the men that was standing in the corner. "Remember me? I'm Bud." He walked over and shook Jordan's hand. "It's good to see you again and great to have you here. Do you remember the rest of this bunch?"

Jordan looked around and slowly shook her head. "I'm sorry, but it's been a while."

"No problem," said Bud. Pointing at each of his brothers, he called out their names, "This is Jeff and this is Travis. The other two – the scrawny ones over there – that's John and Gary."

Steve came back into the room. "Don't let this bunch scare you, Jo. You just have to learn not to let them boss you around."

"Oh," was all Jordan said. She was overwhelmed. Being an only child from a small family.....it was all a little much.

"Dinner's ready," Barbara said.

The mass of Murphy's gathered around the dining room table. Besides the brothers, Bud's and Jeff's wives were there – Theresa and Jennifer, respectively, and Bud's two sons, Brad and Benjamin. Jeff's son was there, too. His name was Matthew.

By the end of the evening, Jordan's head was spinning. Obviously close- knit, the family exchanged jokes and barbs a good part of the evening. Obviously loving, Jordan could see and hear the concern each had for the other. And obviously big, Jordan felt like she needed to make everyone wear name tags for awhile so she could keep them straight. Exhausted, when she got back to Stevie's she fell into bed too tired to even check her e- mail.
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As it had with Stevie in Boston, Jordan's days soon began to fall into a schedule. Up at 6, drive from Hillsborough to Durham. Go to class (on Mondays and Wednesdays), or to the office (Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday). Two days a week the "moronic undergrads" came in and Jordan discussed the importance of what she was doing that day. In a way that was good for her. It re-forced the significance of her work and made her realize all over again why certain little things were important. She was enjoying teaching more than she thought she would. Go home. Play with Katie. Eat with Steve. Chit chat about the day. Go to bed.

She was learning a lot, both from class and with the experience in the new morgue. She wasn't just seeing typical gunshot wounds and stabbings. She was getting unusual deaths from hospitals and accidents. It was a real rush trying to figure these things out. She was challenged as a ME. And she also taught the state ME's a thing or two. Nigel hadn't had her in trace for so long for nothing. She could point out the value of small details, such as a scrap of thread, the markings on a button, and the antennae of a bug.

So her days were full. But her nights were different. At night, she continued to be haunted by a pair of blue eyes that at first were warm and loving. Then they would turn on her – becoming cold and accusing. She couldn't shoo Woody from her dreams. Maybe from her thoughts during the day, but her heart overruled her head at night. Woody walked through her dreams every night, relentlessly. She often would wake up, feeling his touch on her body, only to realize it was a cruel mistake. On these nights, sleep would forsake her and Jordan would go back downstairs and sit out on Steve's front porch, listening to the frogs and looking at the moon. And wonder a million "what ifs...." What if the envelope had never been sent? What if Woody didn't love her? What if he does? There had been nothing from him during the first month she had been in North Carolina. She wondered another what if..what if he had already made up his mind?

This worrisome thought stayed with her. It was her constant, irritating companion. Finally, Stevie said something to her. Stevie was beginning to be a bit concerned with Jordan. Her work was great. But personally, her friend was suffering. Stevie and Nigel talked at least three times a week. Nigel said he hadn't seen much of Woody. Indeed, he seldom came into the morgue now, preferring that reports be faxed to him or that he be e-mailed. Nigel thought it was because Woody couldn't handle the sight of Jordan's empty office. The times Nigel did see him, the young detective appeared withdrawn and anxious. He seldom, if ever, asked the morgue staff if they had heard from Jordan and how she was. But Nigel saw him linger around the door to Jordan's office several times, as if wanting to go in and assure himself that she was no longer there, but afraid of that very same fact.

So Stevie approached Jordan one afternoon after work. "Want to go out for drinks? Dad's picking Katie up from school. We can have a girl's night out."

Jordan thought of the Pogue and how much she missed it. "Yeah, I think I would." So Stevie took Jordan to a place called McPherson's, an Irish pub with much promise but little class. Jordan felt right at home. She was talking with the bartender when Steve came up with a tall guy. Jordan winced. Steve's hand was on this guy's arm. "What about Nigel?" she had wondered.

"Jordan," Steve said. "I want you to meet someone. This is Lieutenant Paul Dillon. He's with the State Bureau of Investigation."

"How do you do," Jordan asked politely, looking up into a pair of dark blue eyes. "Dark as midnight, almost," she thought to herself.

"Paul is a good friend of mine. He's been with the SBI for ten years now."

"Hi," said Paul. He was clearly taken with Jordan's looks and personality. He hung around like a puppy. When the girls got ready to leave that night, he asked for Jordan's phone number.

That startled Jordan. She had never thought about talking to another man, or dating one. But what did she have to loose? Somewhat reluctantly, she gave Paul her number.

If Paul sensed reluctance in her voice, he never said a word. Nor did it deter him. The next day, he called and asked Jordan out to a movie.

"What am I supposed to do?" Jordan asked Steve.

Steve shook her head. "Are there any rings on your fingers?"

"No."

"Have you and Woody made any promises to each other?"

"No."

"Then go out and have a good time."

So Jordan did. She went out with Paul several times. He was a good dancer and didn't know anything about her past. So he couldn't make any smart remarks. He listened to her hunches on cases with respect. In short, he was everything she should be looking for in a man. Except for one thing.

He wasn't Woody.

When Paul kissed her the first time, Jordan nearly panicked. When she drew back from his embrace, she was startled not to see a pair of sky blue eyes looking back at her. She felt guilty on one hand and empty on the other. She felt like she was cheating on Woody, only she wasn't. And she felt empty because...well, because Paul wasn't Woody. She felt like she had been cheated.

Frustrated, she poured her heart out to Stevie, who listened sympathetically. "Give yourself time, it's only been two months," Stevie said, eyeing the calendar. It was now October and they had come to North Carolina in August.

"What if it doesn't work...what if time doesn't help me?" Jordan asked.

"Then you've got to make a choice"

"What choice?"

"If living with Woody on any level is going to be better than living without him at all".