Chapter Eleven

Jordan woke up two days later, a little disoriented, but feeling better. Her fever had broken, although she still felt weak. Slowly she got out of bed and made her way to the shower. It was Monday, and she had to go to work.

Woody heard the shower running and took it for a good sign…she was up. For the past two days it had been all he and Cal could do to take care of Abby. He had no idea caring for an infant took so much energy. His respect and concern for Jordan rose several degrees. If she had been doing this by herself and not feeling well, then the woman was made of stronger stuff than he ever realized. He walked to the bedroom and leaned against the door jam, watching her as she put on her make up. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Better…still not completely well, but I need to go to work."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do. I need to keep my job."

"No. Cal's already called Murrow, who called your boss. You are to stay out this week and get better. Completely well. The lab doesn't want to see you until next Monday. Go back to bed, Cavanaugh."

"I've been in bed too long…"

Woody chuckled. "You still need to rest. If you don't want to stay in here, come into the living room and watch TV with me."

It was quiet in the apartment…Abby was in her room. Cal was no where in sight. "Where is everyone?" Jordan whispered as they sat on the sofa. She was reluctant to break the stillness of the apartment.

"Cal's gone back to work…Abby's down for her nap…it's just me and you and The Price is Right," Woody answered, indicating the program on television.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." Woody looked deep in her whiskey-colored eyes. "I think it's time we had a talk."

So now was it…he wanted her explanation now…she had rehearsed it in her head for months…ever since she found out she was pregnant with Abby. "Woody…it's like this…."

He held his hand up. "You don't have to explain anything, Jordan. Cal pretty much filled me in on everything. I understand why you had to keep your pregnancy and the baby a secret. It was to protect everyone. What I wanted to tell you was that I don't want you to have to do this alone anymore."

"But the mob…if you're here and they find out…"

"What I mean is…now that I know everything, I don't want you to feel like all this responsibility is yours. I know in a week or so I'll have to go back to Boston and right now you and Abby can't come with me. It's still not safe. I've had some long talks with Murrow and Walcott while you've been sick. I'm back on the Albanian mob case. We're going to work to defuse the situation so you can come home…soon.

"Until then, I want you to stop working so hard. Drop to part-time. I raked Murrow's ass over the coals for that…you should not have had to work so much right now. I'll make sure you and the baby are taken care of. I just want you well…so you can continue to take care of our daughter…and so you can return to Boston…and to me…as soon as possible."

Jordan let out a breath she felt like she had been holding for a long time. "You're not upset with me?"

Woody shook his head. "No. Why should I be? How could I be? You were doing what you had to."

"Good. I was so afraid you would be…"

"I'm not." He pulled her into his arms. "I have missed you, though. So much."

"I know the feeling…" She sighed with contentment as he settled her against him, pulling the throw off the back of her couch to wrap them both up in. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again."

H brushed her lips with his. "Well, I'm here now…and as much as I would love to take advantage of this situation, you, Dr. Cavanaugh, are still a very sick woman. So….just let me hold you until Abby wakes up."

"Aren't you afraid you'll catch my flu?"

"Nah. At least one of us was smart enough to get the flu shot."

"Funny, Woody…" but she could feel her eyes growing heavy again. Woody was right. She really was in no condition to go back to the lab. However, spending the morning sleeping in his arms sounded like just what she needed. She dozed off, feeling herself being held securely, her head on his chest, and the reassuring thump of his heart in her ear.

"You bought her a pink, frilly dress?" Jordan asked later that day when she woke up again and went to change her daughter. She caught sight of several new outfits in the baby's closet. Jordan had tried to be both practical and economical when she was buying for Abby. Playsuits. Pajamas. Onesies.

No dresses.

"Yes, I did. She didn't have any and she needed at least one pink dress. And a blue dress. And a lavender one – with a hat."

"Woody, she's six months old. She'll have outgrown these in a month or two."

"And then her father will have the enjoyable task of buying her more."

Jordan rolled her eyes. "I don't want a prissy daughter."

"Then I guess I really shouldn't tell you about the crinoline, white lacey hose, and black patent leather Mary Janes I bought her either," Woody said, looking at Jordan with innocent eyes. "And maybe I shouldn't mention the pocketbook at all?"

"Dear God Woody…." Jordan exclaimed, trying unsuccessfully to sound annoyed at his frivolous spending on their daughter. "You're going to spoil her."

"At six months? I don't think so." Woody walked over to the changing table where Jordan was putting the finishing touches on Abby's diaper. "It's when she's sixteen and I cave in and buy her the new car she's wanting….that's when the spoiling comes in."

Jordan chuckled. Woody was enjoying all of this…getting up at night with Abby…feeding her…Cal had been right. Woody was a natural at this fatherhood thing.

"I did decide to buy her something very important…I want you to put this away for her…for her confirmation." He reached into a drawer in the baby's dresser and pulled about a small box. Lifting the lid, he displayed a rosary…a very beautiful one. "I followed the Irish tradition of the father buying his daughter her first rosary."

Jordan carefully lifted it out of the box. "Oh…Woody. I'm sure when the time comes….it will mean so much to her. My dad bought me my first one…and I still have it." She swallowed hard. Jordan had been out of church for a while, but now, with the responsibility of a child, she had been thinking about going back. "I guess we really need to think about a christening, too."

"I'd like that. Very much. But I'd like to wait until you both are back in Boston and have it at St. Inez. That way your friend Paul can do it."

Jordan smiled. "That would be nice."

Woody hedged for a moment. He wanted to ask her something else, but Abby's cry for her lunch broke the conversation. Jordan took her to the kitchen while Woody warmed the bottle. Then sitting on the sofa, they fed her together.

He had realized something during this time. He enjoyed taking care of his daughter and her mother more than he ever thought he would. He didn't want to leave at the end of next week, but he had to. If he stayed longer, he could endanger the mob investigation. And his goal was to get his girls home. Have Abby christened.

Marry Jordan.