Chapter Nine

It's not Pity

And he kept her anchored against him, holding her there for a minute, looking down into her somewhat confused brown eyes with his own steady, blue ones. "Did he hurt you? Are you all right?" he asked.

That was a loaded question. To be in Woody's arms once more…being held close against him…she never thought that would happen again. Two years ago he had pushed her firmly out of his life and shut the door. After she first woke back up from the coma, he still had remained frosty, even though a large part of that behavior was her fault.

But lately…lately, there had been a thaw. A warming trend. He had started coming around more…talking with her. Being more like the old Woody she remembered…the Woody before the sniper's shooting.

The Woody that had once loved her.

"Did he?" Woody asked again, startling Jordan out of her thoughts and confusion. "Because if he did, I'll go over there and…"

She placed a finger on his lips. "No. No, he didn't do anything to me…just too much beer trying to hold a conversation."

"Too much beer trying to pick you up. Come on. Let's put some distance between you and him." His arm still firmly around her waist, he led her over to the area where the band was playing old rock tunes. He didn't dance with her, but instead, held her in front of him, arms still around her waist, her back to his chest, and gently swayed with her in time to the music. When the band got ready to take a break, he whispered in her ear, "Are you tired? Are you ready for me to take you back upstairs?"

She shook her head. "No…not really. This is the most relaxed I've been in a long time." She didn't want to move out of his arms, but she could already feel him slipping away from her…just to take her hand. She regretted the loss of his warm body from behind her.

"Good…I'm glad you're relaxed…and I'm glad you're not tired. Follow me…" Truth be told, Woody was just as reluctant as Jordan was to move from their spot in front of the band. Holding her like that conjured up memories of a more innocent time with them…a time when they both were feeling each other out. When, unbeknownst to Jordan and himself, the walls were really down between them….years ago, when Max owned the bar and he and Jordan would dance after it had closed. Years ago, before life got so damn complicated and events and attitudes drove them apart.

He longed for that time again…if he ever got any of it back, he'd never let her go again. H led her down a small, open, back alley to a gazebo area – one that was normally used for cookouts and such by tenants. Only tonight, it was decorated with small, twinkling white lights….creating an intimate atmosphere in the springtime dusk. Woody found a bench in a secluded area and pulled her down beside him. Somehow, with the evening, the lights, and Jordan's new air of fragility and vulnerability, he was afraid that she was somehow going to escape him…and the drunken bully encounter earlier did nothing to dispel that fear. He held her hand tightly as he turned to her and smiled.

"This is nice," he said.

"It is…they've really done a great job with this area…"

"I wasn't talking about the gazebo," he replied, in a low voice. "I was talking about us. Being together. Again."

For all her contemplations on the evening, until Woody had held her against him, that was one thing Jordan had not thought about. Yes, there had been a thaw in their relationship, but she hadn't placed any hopes in the once-again budding warmth but friendship.

After all, that had been the card trick they had played with each other for years. To her, especially after two years, there was no other reason to hope for anything else. It was too late. Woody had moved on with his life. He was just being Woody again – kind, considerate…somewhere, somehow, in the past months his anger at her had dissipated….dissolved with the winter snow at the first warmth of spring.

"It is?" she asked, her voice a whisper.

"I never thought it would happen again. I was so afraid, Jo. That you'd never wake up…that I'd never be able to…."

Woody never finished the sentence. He reached out and cupped her face with one hand, his fingers gently trailing her cheek and his thumb running across her lips, parting them with its slight pressure.

And when he replaced his thumb with his lips, Jordan lost all track of time…and awareness of her surroundings. She had longed for his loving touch so long…she opened her mouth further and leaned into him…needing to feel his warmth and the security of his arms.

She desperately needed to know that in her shifting world, he was still that steady anchor she had depended on in the past.

Woody felt her response and deepened the kiss again, pulling her closer, his fingers releasing her cheek and tangling themselves in her hair. Learning her all over again…

Until Jordan took the initiative and pulled away. "No…we can't," she whispered.

Stunned, Woody looked at her with wide eyes. "Why?"

"I can't do this again, Woody. I can't loose my heart to you again….and then find out I'm not enough…I'm second best…"

"Jordan…you're not." He lightly brushed her lips with his again. "You're not…You've never been second best."

"Maybe not for someone out there. But that someone isn't you. You kept pushing me away before my accident. In fact, you seemed pretty damn sure I wasn't what you wanted or needed. How do I really know that's really changed?"

"But Jordan…"

"You've been kind to me, Woody. And I appreciate it…I want you to know that I always will love you…but I can't loose my heart again to you and then you pull away from me because you change your mind."

"I'm not going to…"

Jordan held up a hand to stop him, then softly traced his cheek with the same hand. "You told me once that you didn't want my pity….I didn't understand that then…or you. I do now. I don't want your pity. I don't want you looking at me and thinking 'Poor Jordan….she doesn't have anyone….she was in a coma …she wakes up, but her world is torn apart'. I don't want that. I don't want your pity…I don't want to be second best…I don't want to throw myself back into a relationship with you and then a year down the road find out that I'm not enough…that it was all because you felt sorry for me."

"It's not going to be like that, Jo. I've had two years to think about things…."

"But I haven't," she said softly. "I've had a two year nap…"

Reaching out and taking both of her hands in his, Woody rubbed gently circles on the backs of them, hoping to rub in a little trust as well as comfort. "I know, sweetheart. I know. Just please…don't think this is pity. It isn't. And please, don't turn away from me…"

"I'm not. I'm just asking for time…"

Woody sighed and looked up at the sky that was just beginning to darken…the stars were coming out in bunches now…twinkling. He had read somewhere that the light that you see from the stars now was actually hundreds of years old…that it took it that long, even at monumental amounts of speed, to reach earth's atmosphere and for the human eye to pick it up. If the earth could be that patient with starlight…

Surely he could be that patient with Jordan. She was right. She hadn't had but a few months to try to straighten out her life. He wasn't going to push anything on her right now…he'd give her the time…but he would keep on loving her all the while.

He got up from the bench and pulled her to her feet. "Time…if that's all you're asking me for, that's what you've got. I've learned patience the hard way, Jordan. I can't demand from you what you're not ready to give me…and I understand. Just please know…I'm here for you…I was an ass in the past, but I won't be again…"

Woody gently took her arm and led her back through the crowd to her apartment. It was getting late and cooler...and he had seen her shiver several times in that halter dress. He had hoped that somehow tonight he'd be helping her out of it. That wasn't meant to be. His feelings for her would have to wait until later to be revealed…

And God knows those feelings in his heart….and below his waist….wasn't pity.