Chapter Thirteen

She had asked. He promised nothing. So when she caught her flight out of Springfield the next morning, she wasn't sure what to expect when she got home. Or if, in fact, to expect anything at all.

She flew back to Boston…and spent the remainder of her vacation in the city…visiting friends, cleaning her apartment, working at the bar. She didn't hear from Woody. They had talked before she left Springfield…about what the last three years had done to both of them…about the miscarriage….about them. "I know you have a life here, now," she told him. "You've got friends, a career, hell, maybe even a girl. I just wanted you to know that…I am sorry…It just all got too much…first I'm pregnant, then I'm not. And I wanted our baby so badly. Then things got so awkward between the two of us. I wanted to reach out to you….be with you again, and there was this thing between us. I've never been in this situation before…I didn't know how to cope. So I did what I do best…I ran from you. Instead of telling you the way I felt, I just shut down.

"Garret gave me some advice a long time ago. He said 'time can help heal your wounds'. I wasn't sure what he meant then, but I do now. It doesn't exactly make them go away, but it does help ease the pain and put them in perspective. And it has for me. Come home, Woody. Back to Boston. Please?"

He had held her hands, told her that he was glad she had found peace, and that he was sorry, too. That he left her like that when she needed him, but the fact was, he didn't know how to cope any better than she did. He just figured if she didn't have to see him everyday, she'd recover faster. He wouldn't be a constant reminder of what had happened to her.

But as far as returning to Boston…he wasn't sure. He'd have to think about it.

"I swear, this is the last time I'm moving," Woody told David, his partner at the Springfield Police Department. They were moving the boxes out of Woody's apartment into a U-Haul.

"Nah. You're young. You'll probably move at least three or four more times before you settle down for good. Maybe even more," David replied. He was older than Woody and had a family….three girls. "Beth and I moved six times before we finally decided on the house we're in now."

"Moving is a pain in the ass. But if I had your family and your girls, maybe that would be incentive enough to make me do it again."

"I thought that was why you were moving back to Boston...that cute, little ME that visited you from there. What was her name…Joy, Jennifer?"

"Jordan."

"Jordan. That's right. Go home to the girl….get busy…have some kids."

"Things are never that easy with Jordan."

David chuckled. "They weren't that easy with Beth, either. She didn't want me. She wanted a career. Then she didn't want children, she wanted to just be an editor of the newspaper and wouldn't have time for them. See where she's at now?"

"At home, barefoot and pregnant with the fourth."

"Yep."

"How did you manage that?"

David wagged his eyebrows at Woody. "Just some sweet talk and persuasive moves." Then he chuckled. "No, I guess at some point along the way, we discovered the only thing that really mattered was each other. The hell with the rest of the world. And we found out we wanted kids…a family…Of course, she still works….she's lucky enough she can do a lot of the editing at home, on line at her computer. I've seen her edit while breast feeding Caroline. But all that matters is each other. Keep that in mind, Hoyt."

"I will."

The men loaded the last box in the U-Haul, and Woody slammed the doors and locked them. Checking the hitch to make sure it was secure, he stood and shook David's hand. "Thanks, man. For everything."

"It's nothing, Woody. Really. I've enjoyed working with you. You've been a hell of a good partner."

"So have you….maybe we'll work together again."

"Maybe. But until then, take care of yourself. Go home to that hot, little ME and be happy."

"I plan on it…if she'll really take me back."

"Oh, she will. I saw the way she was looking at you when she was here. She wants you bad, Hoyt."

Woody chuckled and looked away; a faint blush tinged his cheeks. "Yeah, well…I better hit the highway before traffic gets too heavy."

David shook his hand one more time. "Be safe."

Woody nodded and got in his Honda Civic. Just as the early morning sun was painting the sky with pinks and golds, he pulled into the early morning rush hour traffic…with his car heading east.

He was going back to Boston. Back to his old precinct. Back to her.

"Hey, Jordan….You up for one?" Nigel asked, handing her a slip of paper.

"Yeah. Sure. What is it?" she replied, grabbing her bag and jacket and walking with him down the hall towards the elevators.

"Seems like it's the garden variety beating death…body found in an alley on the corner of Commerce and Fourth. The responding detective requested you."

"Must be Lois…she's been doing a lot of that lately."

"I don't know who it was…I didn't take the call, but more than likely it's her….girl power and that sort of thing, love."

Jordan smirked as the elevator doors closed behind her. A few minutes later she was at the scene. After showing her badge, a uniformed officer led her through the yellow police tape to the crime scene. She approximated time of death. Raising her voice, she asked, "Who's the detective in charge here?" to no one in particular, but knowing she'd get a response out of someone.

"I am," a soft voice answered.

Jordan found herself looking up into a pair of very familiar blue eyes. Feeling a pleasant warmth wash over her, she smiled. "Welcome home, Farm Boy."