Chapter Four
He's a Good Man
"Oh Jesus," Jordan breathed as she got out of her truck. She had heard the resounding boom and saw the flames as she pulled up. Running towards the house, she punched the panic button on her Nextel and threw it on the ground. Glancing around, she couldn't see Woody anywhere.
That's when it hit her.
He was in the house.
Woody was in the burning house…trapped…or hurt…or worse. Whatever her attitude towards him had been, it disappeared as she realized that once again she could lose him. She ran up the steps to the house, took off her jacket, and tried to beat back the flames to find him. There was one figure near her…it looked sort of like Woody. Putting her arms underneath his, she dragged him out of door, down the steps, and onto the grass. "My God…Cal…" she said to the unconscious figure.
Not stopping to try to even speculate what Woody's brother was doing in the burning house, she ran back up the steps to try to find Woody…he couldn't be far from Cal…the smoke and flames were doing a number on her…a sudden pain in her right arm let her know that the flames had made contact with her skin. Swearing and praying under her breath, she dropped to the floor and began to crawl around, trying to find him. What will I do if I lose him…he can't leave me…even if our relationship isn't what it was…Woody…you can't die on me…not you … not now. Not while I still love you...
Finally, she felt a leg underneath her hand. Trailing her hand up a hard thigh to a face, she felt the spiky hair. Woody. Setting her teeth with determination, she locked her arms underneath his just like she had done with Cal's and began to pull him out the door, coughing against the smoke…this time flames making contact with her left arm as she half carried, half dragged him out, collapsing with him and rolling down the steps.
She would never remember how she got him out to a safe place on the lawn. She just heard sirens and saw firemen before she collapsed herself. The next thing she recalled was Garret bending over her, gently bringing her back to consciousness. "Come back to me, Jordan," he said softly, holding an ammonia capsule under her nose. "Come on….wake up."
"Garret…what happened?"
"Seems there was a natural gas leak at the scene…and the house went up. You got here right after it happened and pulled Woody and his brother out…How little you did that, I'll never know. I've always heard pure adrenalin is a rush….now I know it's true." He looked at her closely. "Are you hurt?"
"I think I burned my arms a little."
Garret examined them carefully. "More than a little. I need to get you to the hospital. Can you walk?" He tried to help her to her feet, but her right leg wouldn't cooperate. She collapsed again.
"It hurts, Gar. I think I might have broken it."
"Hang on, I'll get an EMT."
Jordan glanced around and saw that they were working with Woody and Cal. In her quest to know what happened, she had just assumed Woody and his brother were okay…that she had gotten them out in time. "Woody…is he okay?"
"He's fine…unconscious, but he's going to be just peachy. So is Cal. You deserve a medal or a kick in the ass for being so stupid as to run into a burning building. I haven't decided which I'm going to recommend."
Jordan swallowed hard and leaned against him. "Don't recommend either. Just get me to a hospital."
"Which one do you want to go to?"
"Which ever one they're not taking the Hoyt brothers to."
Garret nodded and gently helped her up on her good leg. "That's it…lean on me…I'll take you to St. Katherine's. I think the EMT's are taking to Woody and Cal to Boston General."
The doctor had told her several times that day that she could go in and see him … that it wouldn't hurt anything. And Jordan had tried, several times. But each time she tried, she chickened out.
He wouldn't though, Jordan thought, he'd bust right through the doors of my hospital room and take over…regardless of what I thought or what I wanted. So why can't I do the same?
Because of what he told you the last time he was in the hospital, the little voice in the back of her head said. 'Get out. Now.' Does any of that sound vaguely familiar?
Jordan had to admit it did. And it remained incredibly painful to recall the fact that Woody had ordered her out of his hospital room and his life. The metallic taste in her mouth made her realize the memory still hurt enough to make her bite her lip so hard that the blood ran. And that spurred her enough to tentatively knock on the door to his room. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, she thought, as she held her breath.
"Come on in, honey. Have you been sitting out there the whole time?" asked Woody's nurse, Tracey.
"Just…for a little while." Jordan called the hospital and talked to Tracey for the past two days to check on Woody when she was still at St. Katherine's. This was her first actual trip to his room.
"Why didn't you come in?"
"The doctor said he might be waking up soon and I didn't want to upset him."
"Upset him? Why should you coming in and seeing him upset him?"
"We…we…haven't exactly been on the best of terms lately…"
"But you were on good enough terms to save his life…"
Jordan cleared her throat and looked down at her feet. "I … well, let's just say I repaid a longstanding debt…" And she felt like she had. Jordan had thought about what she had done during her overnight stay at St. Katherine's after getting her leg set. She finally decided that by pulling Woody's ass out of that burning building she had repaid him at last for all the times he had pulled her ass out of a world of trouble.
But she also realized, that no matter how hard she tried, no matter how healthy it was for her to move on with her life, she couldn't. Not without him in it at least. She loved him. She always would. She longed for a second chance with him, even though she doubted that would ever happen.
Tracey smiled at Jordan and pulled a chair up to the side of Woody's bed. "Come on over here and sit down. I'll get you something to prop your leg up on. Please tell me you didn't drive yourself and that you have someone to take you home."
"Yeah…I didn't and I do," Jordan replied. Garret had dropped her off and told her to call him when she was through and he'd pick her back up.
Somewhere in the vague recesses of his mind, Woody began to hear what was going on. His consciousness was slowly regaining ground, although his eyelids refused to cooperate. After a minute of fighting to lift them, he gave up and listened to conversation going on around him.
Jordan…what is she doing here? He couldn't remember why she should be…Cal had pulled him out of the building…he remembered that much. He could still feel the hands yanking him out of there, half dragging him, half pulling and lifting him….but Cal had gotten him out. So maybe there's that much of a relationship left between my brother and me… he still thinks enough of me to save my life. Maybe we can go back to being brothers…
"Here, honey…sit down…"
That must be the nurse…
Woody then heard a familiar thump and a drag, then another thump and a drag. She's on crutches….Jordan's on crutches….Woody knew that sound all too well. After he had been released from the hospital after the sniper shooting, he had been on crutches for nearly four months. What the hell did she do to herself now and is she going to try to blame this one on me, too? He tried to lift his eyelids again. No luck.
He heard her settle down in the chair and felt Tracey continue to take his vitals. "I'll be getting out of your way in just a minute," he heard her tell Jordan.
"You're fine…just make sure he's okay."
"He's okay…but it's all because of you. When are you going to tell him that it was you that pulled him out of that building?"
Oh, God. Jordan. She pulled me out of that building…not Cal. But how? His mind spun. She's so little…
He heard her sigh. "I'm… I'm not. It's just better that he doesn't know." Tracey raised her eyebrows. "It really is…he's…he's rather upset with me right now."
"Well, one look at that leg and the burns on your arms and that should make him un-upset with you real quick."
She got burned? How badly? He fought his eyelids again. He lost.
Jordan shook her head. "No. He doesn't ever need to know. It's better that he thinks Cal did it … that Cal saved him. See…he and his brother had a …fight and haven't really spoken in a while. If Woody thinks Cal did this, then that will hopefully make them reconcile."
"You're very generous, Jordan. You saved this guy's life and you want to give someone else the credit…especially since it's obvious you care for him…so much."
"No…it's just more important that Cal and Woody reconcile…Their parents are dead and all they have is each other."
Tracey gave Jordan a hard look. "Doesn't this guy know he has you?"
"He knows…" her voice dropped to a whisper, "he just doesn't want me."
"Then the man is a lunatic."
Jordan gave Tracey a small smile. "Thanks …but he has his reasons. Believe me."
Tracey snorted and continued to take Woody's vitals. "Well…he's doing much better."
"How's his spine and legs…any damage?"
"No…no trauma to either of those. Just a concussion and not a very bad one at that. He's going to be fine and should wake up soon."
"Then I need to go. If he wakes up and finds me here…he won't be happy."
That's putting it mildly. You should go, Jordan…it would be better for both of us.
"Okay…my work here is done…at least for the moment. I'll leave you two alone," Tracey said. "You take care, honey." Woody heard the rustle of her uniform and the soft swish of the door opening.
"I will…I probably won't be seeing you again….if he's going to wake up soon, I need to leave. So thanks for everything you've done for him." Woody heard Jordan stand and felt her sit on the side of his bed. Then ever so gently she took his hand. "Take care of him for me, please, Tracey? He's a good man…a really good man."
"I will…and I'll call you if anything changes."
"Okay….and thanks again."
"No problem." Woody heard the door swish close and then click shut. It was just him and Jordan.
Please, just go, Jordan. Please. Don't make this any harder than it has to be...
Instead, she continued to hold his hand with one of hers and while the other tenderly brushed his hair off his forehead. "Woody…" he heard her softly whisper. "I am so sorry this happened to you…I tried…I really tried to get you out of the house before you got hurt…but of course, as far as we're concerned, I was late and a half-step off, as usual."
You got my ass out before the building burnt down…what more could I ask for? A little bump on the head is nothing. And please, don't stop running your fingers through my hair…you have no idea how good it feels…and how I've always wanted you to do it…Why didn't you do this before—when we were still trying to work things out?
As if she could read his thoughts, she continued to muss with the ends of his hair. "I am so sorry…you've spent far too much time in hospitals lately and then to have to be back in here again…it's just not fair." She moved her fingers from his hair to the side of his face and gently stroked it with her thumb.
Oh Jesus, that feels good, too. Woody felt her weight shift. For a moment he thought she was getting up and tried to tighten his hold on her hand. His body still wasn't responding to the signals his brain was throwing out.
But she didn't get up. She just moved a little closer. "I miss you, Woody. I … I miss having you in my life…at any level. I'm sorry I've been so hard to get along with…I just was …am still hurt. Hell, right now, I'd settle for only being your acquaintance…but I understand and respect how you feel. I do want you to know that what I have right here," she lifted his hand and put it over her heart, "is still yours. I'm trying to move on, but it's not working very well. Maybe it will one day." She gently laid his hand back down on the bed. And to his surprise, he felt her lean down and kiss his forehead. "You are a good man, Woody. I do miss you…very much." He felt her lips move to his as she lightly kissed him…"I still love you," she whispered. He felt something warm and wet hit his face.
Tears? For me? Oh, Jesus... Jordan...Why?
"Good-bye, Farm Boy," she said against his lips.
He felt her weight shift completely off the bed this time and heard her take her crutches. A few familiar thumps later, the door opened and then shut.
Wait….don't leave me. Please…She said good-bye, not good night. That sounded awfully final.
And it scared the hell out of him.
