Chapter Ten

Jordan watched the expression in Woody's eyes change from concern to bewilderment…to anger. "A baby…" he said, his face darkening.

"Yes…" Jordan replied softly. "Ours…." She struggled to get up and go to Abigail. It was time for her to eat again. She found herself pushed back down on the bed by Woody's arm.

"We need to talk," he countered.

"Not until she eats. Your daughter has quite a temper when things don't go her way." She struggled again, only to be pushed back down one more time.

"You stay in bed. I'll get her." A daughter. He had a daughter. Woody stumbled across the hallway and into the nursery, following the direction of Cal's pointed finger. She was in the crib…crying. Woody ran a finger down the baby's cheek. It must have tickled, because suddenly the baby laughed, showing her dimples. "Hey there, little one," he cooed, "are you hungry?" Abby kicked in response. "Hang on, I'll take you to your mom."

"You might want to check her southern hemisphere first, Woods. Jordan always does that before she feeds her," said Cal from the doorway. He flipped on the light in the nursery so Woody could see better.

"So this is why Jordan needed me so badly?" he asked, picking his daughter up and moving to the changing table.

"She's needed you for six months. She just was scared that if you found out, you'd move heaven and earth to force the mob's hand and have them eradicated. Then they'd retaliate on you and the baby. She didn't have much of a choice but to keep you in the dark…she was just trying to keep everyone safe. And she paid the price."

Woody removed the soiled diaper and reached for a wipe. "So how long have you known about your niece?"

Cal sighed and pulled himself away from where he was leaning on the door jam. He figured if he was near Abby, Woody couldn't take a swing at him. "I checked in on Jordan when she was in Rhode Island. When I did, she was running the pregnancy test. Since I was the one that kind of got both of you into all of this, I thought it was my job to make sure she was safe until you could take over."

Woody was silent for a moment. "So that partly explains how you know so much…she confided in you. It still doesn't explain everything."

"No…but it goes a long way. As far as I'm willing to go right now."

"Were you around when the baby was born?"

Cal smiled. "The baby's name is Abigail Meredith Hoyt. Abby for short. Or Abs. Depends on what she's up to. And no, I wasn't around when she was born. Unfortunately. I wish I had been." Cal swallowed hard. "I thought I was going to have to tell you then you were a dad…we nearly lost Jordan."

Woody's fingers stilled on the diaper he was fastening. "What?" he asked, turning towards his brother.

"That's part of the reason she's so sick now…her blood pressure kept going up and down…Abby was taking her own sweet time…then before they could get Jordan prepped for a c-section, boom. Abby was here. Jordan lost a lot of blood…and she's been kind of weak ever since. It's like she can't get her strength back…she doesn't get a lot of rest, since she's been the only one taking care of the baby…and she's working full time again. She can't seem to fight off one sickness before she gets something else."

Woody finished fastening the diaper. "And just when were you going to call me? When she was dying?"

"Look, Woods, I've wanted to call you since the baby was born. Murrow wouldn't hear of it. Finally, I put my foot down two days ago. Jordan was just too sick…Abby was just too precious…and damn it, you needed to know how your girls were." Cal ran his fingers through his hair.

Woody pulled the baby's pajamas up and fastened them. "So…Abby…are you ready to go see Mommy? She tells me you have a terrible temper when you don't get your way. You must get that from her side of the family. Your Uncle Cal and me…we never get angry. We're real boy scouts…" He picked Abigail up and put her on his shoulder. "Cal…" hecalled back to his brother, "Thanks."

"Here you go, Mom," Woody said, delivering their daughter to Jordan. Jordan unfastened her shirt and began to nurse Abby, a little self-conscious of Woody's watching eyes, but relieved that the anger he had shown towards her had dissipated once he met his daughter. He gently stroked the baby's head as she ate.

"She's beautiful, Jo." His face held the glow of a doting dad. Jordan felt her shoulders sag with relief.

"That's because she looks like her father. Dimples and all. She's got your eyes and chin, too."

"And your hair and temper." He flashed a grin at Jordan.

"My temper?"

"Yes, yours. She acts just like you do when you don't get your way," he said, still grinning at her.

Jordan lowered her eyes. "I don't know about that. I think I've had a few hard lessons in patience over the past year or so."

Reaching out and gently tilting her face up with his hand, he made her look him in the eyes. "I know," he said softly. "And it wasn't fair that you had to do this all by yourself. And you're not going to have to any longer. We've got a doctor coming to have a look at you in just a little while. Cal says he's one that the FBI uses to make house calls. Meanwhile, you finish feeding Abby and then I'll look after her while you rest. And you will rest, so don't give me a hard time about that.

"I'm here now, Jo. And I'm not going anywhere."

Jordan wasn't sure what exactly happened after that. The doctor came and Woody took Abigail. Jordan's temperature was taken and the doctor probed and prodded for a few minutes, listening to her chest, checking her lymph nodes, looking at her throat. Finally, he cleared his throat and said, "Flu…definitely the flu. Rest. Fluid. Tylenol for fever and pain. Stay in the bed until you feel better. Leave the baby to her father. That way she'll stay well and you'll be up and around before you know it."

"But…I'm nursing…" she protested.

"How old is the baby?" the doctor asked, looking Abby over.

"Six months," replied Woody.

The doctor harrumphed. "Lots of mothers…good mothers, may I add, put their infants on bottles at about that age. Helps them sleep through the night. You may want to try it for right now…at least until you get better, Jordan. You can always go back to nursing after you're well. Try the soy based formula first." He shook hands with Woody, and turned to Jordan. "Rest young lady. Lots of it." Then he left.

So she did. She rested. She slept the rest of the afternoon, only to be briefly awakened to take some Tylenol and for Woody to ask if she needed anything from the store…he was going out to get the formula. Drowsily she told him there was a list on the refrigerator. That was the last coherent thing she remembered for the next couple of days.