Chapter Ten

You Are My Wife

Woody stared idly at his computer screen. He had begun checking his e-mail forty-five minutes ago…and he was still staring at an advertisement for a Bose wave sound system that he didn't want and certainly couldn't afford simply because his mind wasn't on his e-mail.

It wasn't even in the same room with him.

His mind was at the Louisville morgue with her…

Why had she turned him away the other night? Why had she cut him off so cold…when they could have spent an evening wrapped in each other's arms? He wouldn't have cared if they didn't make love…when he had decided that night that he was going to kiss her, all he was expecting was just that…her kisses. He knew he really had no right to expect even those…and he certainly wasn't hoping for anything more.

But like all the other near-misses and not-kisses in the past, she had bolted. Left him feeling empty….yet wanting more. To any other man, she might be labeled a tease. But for him, she was merely acting like Jordan. He shouldn't be surprised. He should be used to this by now…

Only he wasn't. Despite what he had told her about not wanting or needing her, he did. God help him, he did. In the worst way…not just physically, but emotionally. His world ran better when she was in it. His anger dissipated at her smile. His soul felt healed and cleansed at her touch.

And once again, she had danced out of his reach.

He knew why…he was very much aware of why she did what she did…him. His past actions. What he had said.

The way he broke her heart.

And she didn't want her heart broken again…so despite her apparent physical attraction for him, she had guarded her emotions carefully….too carefully. She wasn't going to risk getting hurt by him again.

She probably thought he was the biggest bastard to walk the earth… and there were days he would agree with her…like since the night she had pushed him away. He had been barely civil to her and looked for opportunities to goad her.

Jordan wouldn't bite at those opportunities. She simply turned away before she thought he saw the hurt in her eyes.

A sudden flash of lightening and a loud clap of thunder brought him out of thoughts. Reluctantly he began to shut his computer down….if it was storming, he didn't need to have it on. He closed the lid and began to put the laptop back in his brief case when there was another clap of thunder coupled with his door opening with a resounding bang.

There was Jordan, soaked to the skin. "Don't put that away just yet," she said, shaking off the raindrops that were clinging to her jacket and her hair.

"Why not?"

"I've got us a person of interest."

She was as good as her word. She had done more than point directly at the murderer; she had come up with particular evidence that would damn him other than the Diphasiatrum digitatum.

It seems that Judge Thomas and Ruth never had been able to have children. As a result, they had taken particular interest in their nieces and nephews, looking at them nearly as their own. And from early on in the young man's life, Judge Thomas had taken a particular interest in his name sake, Parker Lowell.

Parker was the second son of Judge Thomas's brother, Daniel. Daniel's oldest son, Charles, was following in his father's footsteps….becoming a doctor. But it was the second son, Parker, who gravitated towards law…and instantly became the favorite of his Uncle Lowell.

Uncle Lowell had seen to it that his ambitious, young nephew had gotten into the judge's alma mater, Harvard, to get his law degree. He had been there two years…reading and studying law…and getting mixed up with the wrong crowd. A crowd that used heroin more than just for recreational purposes. It was a group of young adults that was on the direct end of the production of the drug. But the Harvard campus and surrounding community was getting just a little small and too closely watched for their "business" venture.

Parker had always had access to his uncle's farm….Uncle Lowell would let him come and go as he pleased…after all, one day the farm would be Parker's. The way the Judge had it figured, Parker would complete his studies at Harvard, pass the bar exam, and come home to Kentucky. Oh, he might practice in Louisville for a while, but eventually…eventually, he'd join his uncle as a judge….and then finally, when the time was right, take over for him.

Only Parker was more ambitious than Judge Thomas realized. He didn't care a bit about the fame and prestige that came with the Judge's robes. All he cared about was the money. And heroin production brought quick cash in hand.

Parker knew his uncle's fifty acre spread well. It had numerous caves and shafts left over from Kentucky's hay days as a coal mining community…now completely vacant from any mining activity, but great places to hide heroin production.

And close enough to Parker's home enough in Louisville that he could oversee the manufacturing of the drug and get it shipped out without arousing suspicion. After all, he had come and gone at his uncle's house in Coldstream pretty much as he pleased since he was a young teenager. Parker's on again, off again presence caused no eyebrows to be raised…no one suspected anything.

So he moved the heroin production from an area outside of Harvard…to his uncle's farm in Coldstream…property which just happened to back up to the ball fields where the Diphasiatrum digitatum grew. It was safe….it was hidden….and it was prosperous.

And grew even more prosperous when "higher ups" in the drug families asked him to cut certain heroin shipments with Strychnine to teach some of their nonpaying dealers a lesson.

Woody listened to Jordan carefully. Then picking up the phone, he called John Sanders and requested a warrant to search Judge Thomas's farm, even though it was still pouring rain Ten hours later, Woody had the satisfaction of cuffing Parker Lowell Thomas and reading him his rights. He watched as John loaded Parker into the sheriff's car to take him away to county lock-up. He felt sorry for the Thomas's who had obviously invested a great deal of time and money in this boy…without getting anything in return. He mused for a moment that this must be how love is sometimes…you give yourself completely to another person and then get back nothing in return.

And when he turned and saw Jordan behind him, that reasoning became personified. "Let's go," he said to her curtly. "This is over…done. We can fly back to Boston tomorrow. Right now, I'm cold and wet and worried how both are going to affect my back."

They both were silent during the drive back to the cabin. Not once did Woody compliment her on the work she did to break the case. Not once did he thank her for possibly scoring him a big enough case that homicide would welcome him with open arms.

Not once did he say he was sorry about the other night.

The silence grew even louder when they let themselves in the cabin and he paused for a moment at the foot of the stairs. "I'm going to bed," he announced, as if that fact was important to her. "I'm cold and wet…and need sleep. We'll catch the first flight out for Boston tomorrow. I believe it leaves at ten. Good night, Jordan." And with that, he went upstairs.

Well, thank you, too…Jordan thought. That bastard….

But she had kept her word to Garret…and to herself. She had done her job. She had helped him solve the case….and now she was going home. She hadn't really mended her relationship with him in anyway. She had hoped … that they could come out of this situation as friends again.

She had held out a little hope they could be something more than friends.

That wasn't going to happen.

Suddenly aware that she herself was just as cold and wet as Woody, she pushed her thoughts of him and them aside and went into the bathroom to take a hot shower….washing away the thoughts of the day…feeling the warmth hit her toes and work its way upwards….warming her…the spray making her skin tingle. She washed her hair, gave it a final rinse and pushed back the shower curtain.

Only to have her sole pair of pajamas that she washed earlier that day fall off the curtain rod and plop down into the bath tub, becoming soaking wet yet again. Damn…this is so not my day… After rummaging through her suitcase and finding nothing suitable to sleep in, she went to the closet and found a clean sheet to at least wrap herself up in for the night. God knows she wasn't going to sleep nude in the same house with Woody. He already despised her….to hear any comment he might make about her state of dress or undress would just add a little more hurt to her already over burdened heart. She tucked one end of the sheet between her breasts and tried to settle down for the night.

Only her thoughts of him made sleep more elusive than usual.

Sighing, she sat down on one of the window seats to gaze at the cold, dark Kentucky landscape. Cold and dark, she thought…just like my heart feels…cold and aching…aching for him. Damn myself, after everything he's put me through, I still want him…I still love him.

I still want to be Mrs. Hoyt. I don't want to give him back his name…Indeed, despite the fact that the first time she had been introduced as Mrs. Hoyt, she had nearly crawled out of her skin, it didn't take her long to get used to being called that or Dr. Hoyt. After a few days, she relished it…and had no trouble responding to her name change.

Jordan pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. She'd have to…give him his name back and his ring. That was the agreement. That was what he wanted.

And in the end she was sure it was the best thing.

She just knew it wasn't what she wanted. She held out her left hand and looked at the plain gold band that encircled her ring finger. She hadn't taken it off since Woody put it on her finger ten days ago. With tears streaming down her face, she realized she needed to get used to living without it.

Just like she'd have to living without him again.

.Woody heard her moving restlessly downstairs. She obviously couldn't sleep. Which is good, because I can't either…and it's her fault. He was frustrated with her. Yes, damn it, he would admit part of it was sexual frustration….but another part of it was the aggravation of knowing that despite how much they obviously missed each other, she didn't want to move any closer to him than she already was.

And he knew whose fault that was….his. Given their past…everything he had done and said, Jordan either felt like their relationship was no longer worth her effort or simply believed it was doomed from the start.

He hated that….that she refused to try…even worse was that she refused to let herself want to try. Woody sighed and rolled to his side.

He thought that she had enjoyed the charade of being his wife as much as he had enjoyed her playing the part….watching her readily answer to Mrs. Hoyt. The feeling of pride he had in her when she had cracked the case today. No doubt they were quite a team…unstoppable. I at least need to try to salvage a friendship…something out of this …odd situation. Tonight is our last night together…I need to talk to her. Grabbing his robe, he tied it around him and quietly descended the stairs.

He paused to look at her a minute, sitting in front of the window, her knees to her chest, so lost in thought that she didn't hear him until he came and sat down behind her on the window seat. She jumped when his hand lightly touched her back. "Sorry…didn't mean to startle you….you can't sleep either?"

Jordan knew better than to try to reply….she was still crying and knew her voice would give her away. At least they weren't facing each other…Swallowing the rest of her tears and composing herself as much as she could, she replied, "Not really….I'm just enjoying the view….I'm really going to miss this when we get back to Boston….all the beautiful scenery…"

"Naturist…" he chided gently, remembering Bug's malapropism from years ago.

Jordan evidently remembered, too. She chuckled softly. "Naturalist…" she corrected.

Glad to see that the ice may have been broken between them, Woody reached for her shoulders with both hands….and was shocked when his fingers touched bare skin. Jordan sensed his surprise. I bet I've offended him…I bet he thinks I'm dressed this way to tease him or something…he'll really want nothing to do with me now…

"Sorry," she said, giving him a quick backward glance over her shoulder when his hands didn't stay there. "I'm honestly not trying to tease you…or seduce you…it's just that my pajamas fell in the shower and they're soaked…"

"It's okay, Jordan.."

"I'll go to bed and let you enjoy the view for awhile…." She began to push away from him when she felt his hands close around her shoulders and pull her back against him.

"It's okay, Jordan," Woody murmured in the darkness. "After all….you are my wife…"