Chapter Eleven

A Good Place to Start

She was asleep when he arrived late the next morning.

Woody had gotten up and for the first time in over a year headed back to the Nineteenth Precinct instead of the Rose. He reported in for duty and spent the next several hours with Walcott and Captain Freeman, going back over the details of the operation. Then he signed out, requested the next two weeks off, and went to the hospital to pick up Jordan.

At some point, Woody realized his plans of a quiet retirement to Keuwanne to become the newest dairy farmer in that community had faded away completely

He quietly entered her hospital room after softly knocking and getting no response. Assuming that she wasn't there for some reason, he decided to go in and wait for her to get back.

Only to find her fast asleep. Evidently this ordeal had taken more out of her than she realized. Jordan Cavanaugh had never been known to sleep past seven, even on a morning she decided stay in the bed. Woody sat down in the chair beside her bed and took her hand. Her left hand. The hand he hoped to have a ring on before the week was out. An engagement ring at least. He may not exactly be the Farm Boy he once was, but something about him hadn't changed. He wasn't a complete Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. The desire to take care of Jordan and his son was overwhelming.

The need to make up for lost time was urgent.

She had endured a lot from him over the past eighteen months. First, because of his bad-ass attitude when he was in the hospital…when he thought he knew everything and had so roughly pushed her away…not once, but twice.

And just when he thought they both had lost their way back to each other, she tells him that she still loves him. He couldn't do a damn thing about it, of course. He was in the middle of the assignment with the Rose. He couldn't even comfort her the way he wanted to when Max died.

But somehow, in this whole mess of things…they had created a baby…a son. Now their child and their lives together hinged on her…and if she would accept what little he had to offer…monetarily it wasn't much.

Intangibly, it was everything. His heart. One that he would freely give in exchange for hers.

Woody got up out of his chair and gently sat on the side of her bed. Just as cautiously, he leaned forward and kissed her forehead. Jordan's eyelids fluttered and then opened to stare into his blue one. Blue eyes she thought she may have lost forever…or at least a good ten to twenty years. Slowly a grin slid across her face.

Woody's face echoed the smile. "What's say we blow this joint?" he asked. "Where would you like to go?"

"I'd say that sounds like a great idea….and home sounds like a good place to start."

An hour later, Jordan found herself signed out of the hospital and back home in her own apartment, curled up on the couch. She watched with badly hid amusement as Woody tried to figure out where they could put a crib in the bedroom, while at the same time making a grocery list and unloading her dishwasher.

Her premonition about him not letting her lift a finger was becoming a harsh reality. But one she wouldn't trade for the world. "We can move into Dad's," she finally said, hoping to calm him down some. He was set on hyper drive, trying to make up for lost time.

"Your dad's place?"

"He left it to me. I mean, I would want to do some painting and a few things…but that's three bedrooms and two baths that we don't have to pay for."

Woody came and sat beside her on the couch, gently pulling her into his lap. "You'd give up your apartment, Jo? I mean…this place is connected so closely with you…."

Jordan shrugged. "You do what you have to…besides. I said I wanted to redecorate Dad's old place. It will become me…us…in a little while."

He raised an eyebrow. "You're sure?"

She hesitated. "We could always sublet this place…."

Woody chuckled. "So you're going to let me move in with you…"

Momentarily Jordan was taken back at his words. She had assumed he would want to…had she misread him? But the look in Woody's eyes simply told her that he was unsure…he had been gone so long…and so much had happened between them. "Of course….under some very specific conditions…of course."

"And what are they?"

"Well…first….you have to do the cooking. At least until the baby is born. The smell of anything simmering or baking still makes me sick."

"Deal."

"And you can't hog the covers…"

"That can be arranged."

"And you have to rinse your shaving cream and toothpaste drips out of the bathroom sink."

"I always do."

"And no wet towels or dirty boxers on the floor. That's why God created hampers."

"Tighty whities?"

"Please tell me no….you don't own a pair."

Woody chuckled. "Is that all?"

Jordan looked deep into his eyes…a myriad of emotions sailing through hers. "Do you want to….stay with me?" she asked in a small voice, as if she really wasn't sure it was her he was wanting so much as only the baby.

He folded her into his arms and dropped a kiss on the top of her head. "Yes. More than anything. Even if you weren't pregnant, I'd be here with you, Jordan. But it's time for the dance to end. We've waffled around our emotions and feelings for years now….sometimes you pushing me away and sometimes me pushing you away. It's time to be honest and open. Too much is at stake. I love you…and I'm committed to you and our son. No vows have been taken…and none may ever be…that's up to you. But I hope that eventually, you'll want to share my name as well as my bed."

Jordan sniffled, a sound nearly muffled by how closely Woody was holding her. "I'd like that very much…but can we wait until after the baby is born?"

Woody took a moment to digest the fact that Jordan had accepted his proposal so quickly…and without argument. Then he managed to stammer out, "W…why wait?"

"Because I want to fit into a pretty dress….and right now I'd look like the Stay-Puffed marshmallow man in a white outfit….."

He grinned at her then. One of those melt-your-heart grins that always weakened Jordan's knees and her resolve. "I'm serious, Jo. The game is over. This is for real." He rested one hand on her expanding belly. "This is the real deal…"

"White picket fence and everything."

"Yep."

"More than just an eighteen year commitment?"

"Much more…and longer."

"How much more?"

"Quite a bit…"

"Would you like to show me how much more?"

He caught the gleam in her eye then. "Well, there's always this…." He said, finding that sensitive spot beneath her ear. "And then there's this…" He palmed her breast while still nibbling at her neck. "And of course….there's this…" He claimed her lips then…in one of those mind-numbing kisses he was so good at. Jordan was scarcely aware he had lifted her from the couch and was carrying her in his arms to her bedroom. "Is this going to be okay?" he asked. "I mean…can you?"

Jordan nodded. And for the next hour she proceeded to show him just how okay it could be.

"Breathe, Jordan. Focus and breathe…" Woody coached her through the last minutes of labor. "Breathe between contractions…." The two months that past since he had gotten off assignment had flown. He and Jordan had hardly had time to get Max's old house painted and decorated the way she wanted when their son decided to make an appearance.

Jordan stopped pushing for a moment and tried to…but the pain was enormous. "I gotta push again," she grunted to Woody and Dr. Barker.

"Go ahead," Dr. Barker replied. "Your son has crowned…just a little more….A little more. Push harder….one more push."

Jordan gritted her teeth and squeezed Woody's hand in a near-death grip. And then pushed. Hard.

A minute later, their son's tiny wail could be heard in the room. Jordan flopped back on her bed, exhausted. She watched as Woody cut the umbilical cord and brought the tiny infant to her. "He's here," Woody said, putting the baby in Jordan's outstretched arms.

A button nose, and red, wrinkled skin…and a head full of chestnut hair…Jordan's color and Woody's hair cut. It was sticking out all over. She laughed as she tried with no avail to straighten it. And held her breath when Zachary Taylor Hoyt opened his eyes. They were blue like his dad's. Jordan knew their was a chance the color might change in the weeks ahead, but it didn't look to be a possibility. The blue was Woody's shade…sky blue and piercing.

And the fact that you could already see that Zach was going to have dimples didn't hurt. Jordan chuckled. In a matter of years, she'd be chasing the girls away from her son.

"We did good," Woody said, gently stroking their son's tiny fist and kissing her. "Real good."

"Yeah, we did…but I'm beat." After 32 hours of labor, Jordan was worn out.

"The nurse needs to take him anyway…get him weighed and cleaned up. Then we'll get you to your room and let you rest," Dr. Barker said, making sure the placenta had been delivered intact and that everything else looked okay. "If anyone deserves a good night's sleep, it's you."

Woody gently took her hand. "He's right…you need to rest."

"I'm fine…but next time you decide to play Romeo and climb through my bedroom window, would you do me a favor?"

"What?"

"Stop at the drugstore first."