Chapter Nine

Woody walked into Logan not knowing what … or who … to look for. He half-way expected for some sort of shadowy, covert figure to be lurking between columns with tickets in his gloved hand. Instead, Nigel was waiting for him by the gate, envelope in his coat pocket. "Here you go, Woodrow," he said, handing over the tickets. "One layover in Chicago and then it's a straight shot."

"Nigel," Wood replied, shaking his head in disbelief. "When did my brother tie you into all of this…" his voice went silent when he looked at his final destination. "Seattle? Jordan's been in Seattle all this time by herself? So far away?"

Nigel nodded, realizing that the detective's frustration was rising…and he had a feeling that Woody was getting ready to pay him back in spades for what he knew. "That's the only place…and the only way we knew that we could really keep her safe. Believe me, we looked everywhere, and that was the safest…"

"We?" Woody's voice was rising with incredulousness. "You knew all along where she was….and didn't tell me?"

"I couldn't. Honestly, I couldn't. And Jordan didn't want me to."

"Jordan didn't want you to?" This was getting more frustrating by the minute. First Murrow tells him that Jordan misses him and asks about him. Then Cal calls and says that she needs him. Now Nigel is telling him that Jordan didn't want the detective to know where she was at…..Woody could feel the anger rising from inside and showing on his face.

"Woody…it's not what it seems like. Truly. Jordan cares for you. No one cares for you more deeply than she does. You must trust me on that. There was a very good reason she had to keep you in the dark. The mob threatened your life…"

"And I'm a big boy, Nigel. I can take care of myself."

"She was frightened for you…so until things cooled down, she stayed in hiding."

"I'm not buying it. She could have told me…"

"They told her not to…or they would hurt you."

Woody closed his eyes and tried to tamp down his impatience and surging anger. He slowly counted to ten mentally before he replied. "Okay…who else knew where she was?"

"Myself, Garret, Rene' …. And Cal," the Brit answered, his voice lowering to a whisper.

"My own brother knew and wouldn't tell me?"

"He couldn't, Woody. There's more at risk here than you know…but you're going to find out soon if you'll just get on that plane."

"More? What are you talking about?"

"I really can't say," Nigel said with more force than usual. "Just please…go to her. She needs you…really needs you right now."

Jordan was hot…burning with fever. She knew it…by the way heat was radiating off her body…the way her head pounded. She was sick…the sickest she had been with this flu bug since she picked it up a few days ago. She couldn't take much of anything for it, as the medicine would be passed along in her breast milk to Abigail.

Abigail…who was now crying once again to be fed and changed. Slowly, Jordan dragged her body off the couch where she had been resting and went to her daughter, changing her and then unbuttoning her shirt to feed her. She softly crooned a lullaby to her daughter as she nursed. Like all new mothers, Jordan was proud of her offspring. Abby had soft, downy hair, the color of her mother's. But the child had her father's eyes and dimples….a regular beauty. Abby would probably have the boys lined up at her door by the time she was twelve.

If we both survive that long… Jordan thought. The way she felt right now, Jordan wasn't too sure if she was going to make it to next week, much less Abby's twelfth birthday. If I could just get one good night's sleep…Jordan stifled a yawn as her daughter finished nursing and fell asleep. Even in her sleep, she reminded Jordan of Woody… If she was honest, she saw him every time she looked her. The dimples…the eyes…they were all his. Abby could light up a room with her smile…just like Woody could light up Jordan's heart with his.

Woody. She thought of him daily…hourly sometimes. She missed him more now than ever. He was going to be incredibly angry with her when he discovered Abby…not with the fact that Jordan had gotten pregnant, but that she didn't tell him…confide in him before she left. She sighed. But if she had told him, he would have never allowed her to leave…or would have insisted on going with her. Or coming to be with her later, when the time came for her to deliver the baby.

And perhaps would have put himself and the baby in danger. Jordan shook her head. She couldn't have risked it for either of them. Although she did understand from Cal and Murrow that the danger was dying down…that it looked like one day she would be able to return to Boston. That would be nice….if Woody didn't go completely ballistic on her. Her heart wrenched at that thought. I just hope that when the time comes…if it comes…and I can tell him about Abby, he will understand and forgive me. Jordan glanced at her daughter before she put her down in the crib. There was no question in her mind that Woody would love his daughter. The question was, how would he still feel about her mother?

"Woody," Cal called out as he spotted his brother getting coming down the ramp in the airport.

"Where is she?" Woody asked. He had spent the past six hours thinking about what Nigel had told him at the airport and getting angrier by the minute. The whole situation still made no sense to him. Jordan knew he could take care of himself and her, too.

"Jordan? She's at home…in her apartment."

"Was she too sick to be here?" Woody wanted answers. And he wanted them now. Framus may be right…he may be too bitter now to ever return to being her easy-going farm boy.

Cal looked at his feet for a minute. His brother wanted to know the truth…and he needed to know everything Cal could tell him before he arrived at Jordan's apartment. "She doesn't know you're here," he finally said.

"What?"

"She doesn't know you're here. If I had told her that I was sending for you…because she needed you more than any other person to help her…she would have quickly vetoed the idea and put me on the curb."

Woody's eyes narrowed. "You've been staying with her?" he asked quietly, a dangerous edge to his voice.

"No. NO. It's nothing like that, Woods. My job brings me to Seattle and I check in on her from time to time. I was the one that set this up with the FBI."

"Why wouldn't she want me here?"

"It's still kind of dangerous…she's still afraid for you and…" Cal bit his tongue. Jordan was going to have to tell Woody about Abby. There was no way he'd be the object of his brother's wrath on that little detail.

"And?"

"And didn't want you to get hurt."

Woody grimaced. "Let's go. She has a lot of explaining to do."

The brothers drove in silence to Jordan's apartment, Woody still trying to get his bearings. This whole scenario still didn't make any sense. No one had ever held this much influence over Jordan Cavanaugh. No one had ever made her this fearful. There was another piece of the puzzle that Woody wasn't getting…he was sure of it. He could tell by what Cal wasn't saying to him. Cal's body language was all nervousness. Woody held his breath as they pulled into an apartment complex and parked. "Which one is it?" Woody asked, pointing to the apartment unit they were in front of.

"It's 4-C, but Woody wait a minute…." Cal may as well have been spitting in the wind. Woody was gone, taking the stairs two at a time, and nearly beating the door down when he reached 4-C.

"Hold on…she may be asleep, and I hope she is. God knows she needs to…" Cal said, sliding a key in the lock.

"You have a key?"

Cal ignored the insinuating tone in his brother's voice. "Yeah. She gave it to me in case of an emergency…you'll understand in a minute."

The door popped open and it took Woody's eyes a minute to adjust to the dim light of the apartment. Then a soft moan caught his attention. Jordan. He found her on the couch…in a fever-induced sleep. He put his hand to her forehead…she was burning up. "Cal…call a doctor, quick…she's sick…really sick," Woody said, his mouth going dry at the sight of her so ill. "I'm going to put her to bed…where's her bedroom?" Cal pointed to a room down the hall. Woody didn't ask how Cal knew…he'd ask that question of his brother later. He simply picked Jordan up like a child, easily taking her slight weight and making his way down the hall…putting her in her bed, sliding her shoes off her feet, and pulling the coverlet up around her. Cal came to the door.

"I got in touch with a doctor…he's actually coming here. He's one that the FBI uses on occasion. He'll be here in an hour or so."

Woody nodded, his eyes staying on Jordan's face. She looked like she had been through a war zone…and hadn't slept in …God knows when. Was she that frightened? His heart twisted just a bit at the thought of her being this far away from her friends and home and feeling this scared….Still, it didn't make sense, but he shook his head as he saw her begin to come to.

She had thought she heard voices, but had assumed it was the fever playing tricks on her mind. She recognized Cal's voice and could have sworn she heard Woody's…but that was only wishful thinking…Woody was back in Boston…safe. Right? Then she had felt herself be carefully lifted and carried to bed. That wasn't a dream, she realized as the cool sheets hit her back. That was real. She tried to force her reluctant eyes open…to find them staring at a pair of familiar blue ones. "Woody?"

For the first time in months, he smiled. She was sick…Cal was right. She did need him. The rest of the puzzle would fall into place he was sure…even though it still didn't make a lot of sense…he was sure it would…

And it did, as Abigail's cry broke the silence in the apartment.