Chapter Three

So, not knowing what to say, she said nothing. And at first, no one but her, and her doctor, were aware of the changes going on in her body. She appeared to grow thinner, because her bust line expanded. But soon, subtly, her waist began to catch up.

Garret had noticed it first. They had been in the elevator together. She had reached out to push the button to go from the lobby to their offices. He noticed the slight bulge at her waistline. When they had reached their floor, he asked if he could see her in his office. He knew her eating habits. There was no way she could have gained weight. "Are you pregnant?" he asked, point blank, and getting to the heart of the matter.

Jordan had teared up, looked away, and shook her head yes. Garret sighed. "Have you made any plans?"

"Well, I'm going to keep it, if that's what you're asking."

"No…I mean, have you told the father?"

"No. He's going through a lot right now…he needs time."

"Jordan…who is the father?" She shook her head no. She wasn't telling.

"Is it Woody?"

She nodded again, not trusting her voice. This time, the tears escaped her eyes and began running down her cheeks. "Oh, Jordan," he had softly sighed, gently hugging her. "Is there anything I can do?"

"No. Not right now."

Nigel and Bug had caught on next, as her tummy began to push at the waistband of her pants. "You shouldn't be doing that, you know," Nigel told her one afternoon, as she helped to turn over a body. "You could hurt yourself…and…" he had given her middle a pointed look.

"Is it that obvious?" she asked.

Bug nodded. "You're at the point it's difficult to deny you're pregnant."

"How far along are you, love?" asked Nigel.

"About four months," she had said, backing away from the autopsy table and letting the men turn the body without her. Nothing more was said until she was ready to go home. Nigel found his way into her office.

"You know what I'm going to ask, so out with it lass, who's the father?"

Jordan sighed and looked up at the tall man. "Woody."

"Woodrow?" Nigel asked, incredulously. He was under the impression that Woody was still mourning the loss of Devan too much to even think about another woman. He had heard grief did strange things to people but still…. "Does he know?"

"No …not yet."

Nigel blew out a sigh. Jordan and Woody worked too closely together for him not to notice. "What are you going to tell him and when?"

Jordan gave him a small smirk. "Well, the what is kind of obvious. The when…that's different. I don't know."

"You can't keep this hidden forever…I mean sooner or later…"

"I know…I just don't know when's the best time….or how he'll take it."

The when came sooner than she was prepared for. A few weeks later, she was on call when a homicide was phoned in. Woody was the detective on sight. It was winter and Jordan had on a heavy coat, but even by this point in her pregnancy, her waistline could not be camouflaged. He had done a double take when he saw her, coming over and untying the belt on her coat, opening it, and staring at her tummy. He looked for what seemed like endless seconds before closing her coat back up and retying it. Searching her eyes for answers, and finding them telling him nothing, he simply said, "We will talk later, Jordan. I promise."

As quickly as she could, Jordan had gotten the body back to the morgue and began to work. She couldn't keep Woody out of the autopsy room, it was his case. She could, however, try to maintain her professionalism…at least until after work. As soon as his form parted the doors, she began. "Estimated time of death is ten to…"

Woody cut her off. "I'm sure whatever you say is true, but that's not the primary reason I'm here." He pointed to her waist. "Is it mine?"

The easy way out. She could tell him no and not have to worry about how he would take his impending fatherhood. They could still maintain some sort of friendship, and she could get out of telling him. But what if the baby was born with his eyes? There'd be no denying who the father was and Jordan would have hell to pay, she knew. Swallowing hard, she simply nodded and waited to hear what he would say.

Not a word. Woody didn't say a thing…he simply turned on his heel and left her and the body alone. Jordan didn't see him again for the rest of the work day.

Woody went back to his apartment and paced. A father. He was going to be a father. One half of his DNA had been given to the child growing in Jordan.

Jordan was pregnant…with his baby.

One night of unprotected passion and now this. He slammed one fist into the other hand and sat down on his couch. It wasn't that he didn't want the baby….

It's just that he never expected to be a dad. Not after the way his dad had behaved.

He had heard in college that most parenting skills are caught, not taught. In other words, history can repeat itself in families. What your dad did to you, you are possibly conditioned to repeat with your children. Woody's dad had been demanding and abusive after his mother died. Because he was always apprehensive he may be the same, he had vowed early on in life not to have children.

His past scarred him…and it frightened him to believe he may, somewhere, deep inside his soul and psyche, have the same capacity to repeat the same actions with another person….a tiny person, at that.

He was totally unprepared.

But she was pregnant. And hadn't told him. He counted backwards on his fingers. She was nearly four months, if he was correct in his assumption. That meant he had slightly over five months to get himself prepared to be come a father. Five months. Slightly over twenty weeks.

Oh God, he thought, as he let out a huge sigh. He wasn't ready for this.