Chapter Four

Weeks passed. Then a month. Then two months. Jordan was beginning to take pride in herself ... the way she acted around Devan...her conduct with Woody. "Are you sure you're okay?" Nigel had asked her at one point. "You're taking this far too calmly."

"It's over, Nige. It's behind me."

Nigel gave Jordan a close look. "Yeah, right, and I'm the bloody Queen of England. You're not over Woody. Not for one second will I believe that. You're just coping. In my mind, you won't truly be over the man until I see you lock-lipped with someone else and giving him the same looks you slipped to Woodrow when you thought no one else was watching."

Jordan blushed. In a way, Nigel was more right than he knew. She was just going through the motions. Taking one day at the time. She hadn't really moved on any. Nigel and Garrett both knew she worked all she could... taking any and all the hours she could get. Garrett had echoed Nigel's concern on more than one occasion.

No. Her life wasn't really back in any order. She had isolated herself. She only talked with Lily, Nigel, Bug, and Garrett. And while her father was finally back at the Pogue, things were still to stilted between them to have any conversation other than small talk. She worked. She went home. She rarely went out. Nigel and Garrett had dragged her kicking and screaming for dinner and drinks a couple of times, but that was it. She preferred the solitude of the morgue or the solitude of her apartment.

Her life was in a rut...and she knew it.

Woody's however, seemed to be moving on at quite a rapid pace. He and Devan often had lunch together. And several times, she had seen them leaving together after they both had worked late. Whether they had been heading back to his apartment or hers, Jordan didn't want to know. Her worse nightmares were them together...his arms around Devan. Holding her while they danced. Kissing her...and more...her mind didn't want to go there, even if reality was trying to tell her a different story.

She kept her composure at work. She'd do autopsy with Devan. She'd even go out on Woody's calls. He never requested her anymore, but sometimes she was the one on rotation and she got his call. These times were the hardest for her. Working with him, being that close to him...and knowing he was not hers to touch any longer. Knowing that there would be no drinks together after finishing the autopsy and trace. Knowing that he would be spending that time with Devan.

But she kept it together. Even when he would absent-mindedly put his hand on the small of her back to help her around a crime scene. When he would reach out his hand to help her down into a ravine...or up a hill...or into her car. She kept herself together.

And then go back to her office to cry her eyes out.

Garrett found her like this one day after she had been out on a long call with Woody. He had tapped at her door, but she hadn't heard him through her muffled sobs. He quietly entered, and after seeing her like this, had shut and locked her door. He pulled her over from the corner of her couch, where she had been huddled in, crying her eyes out. Gently taking her in his arms, he let her sob until she was spent. Then, in his wise way, had asked, "Wanna talk about it?"

Drying her eyes with the back of her hands, she said, "I thought it would get easier, Garrett. I really did. It hasn't. In some ways, it's gotten harder. What am I going to do?"

He sighed. "I don't know, Jordan. For the first time in your life, you're in love. And instead of it being a great experience for you, the kind of experience I wanted you to have, it's hurtful and mean. I know it's hard seeing him all the time...and what makes it worse is that you two work together. You've been great...a real professional to him and Devan, but I know it's eating you up on the inside."

She nodded. "I just don't know how much longer I can keep this up."

"Can I tell you something? Give you some advice?"

"Sure." She blew her nose on a tissue and looked at him expectantly.

"Run."

Jordan let out a short laugh. "After all these years of you telling me not to run, to face my responsibilities, you're now telling me to run?"

"In a controlled way."

Jordan gave him a puzzled look.

"Get a transfer."

Jordan felt all the color drain out of her face. "A transfer? Away from Boston? But Garret..."

"Not forever. Just for a while. Go to one of the morgue's that has a teaching university attached to it...Duke in North Carolina, University of Texas in Dallas. Take some classes. Work in their morgue. Get some more training and come back here. It will let you get over Woody...get you some time away from him. Then, when you come back here, I can issue you a pay raise because of your additional training. Two for two. Can't get any better odds than that."

"For how long?"

"Most programs are from one to two years."

"Two years?" That seemed like such a long time...

"It's not that long," Garrett said, reading her mind. "You can always come back for holidays...and who knows who you may meet?" he finished, grinning at her.

She got up from the couch and began to pace. Garrett let her go, knowing that if she was pacing, she was thinking.

"Do you know anyone at Duke?"

"Yeah. The chief ME is a guy named Mike Beechler. I can give him a call."

"Okay. Let's do it."

Garrett nodded. He hated to see Jordan leave for two years...hell, he'd miss her like he'd miss his own daughter. But she needed to get over this thing....and Woody. And she couldn't as long as she was seeing him everyday...having to work with him. Hopefully, during this time, Woody may move on, too...maybe even back to Wisconsin. Garrett couldn't help but think that might be the best thing for both of them.