Chapter Seven

Getting Closer

Woody rolled over on his back and stretched, blinking against the bright Texas sun shining in through his window and wincing at the bruises that his run in with Jordan had given him. The woman could more than take care of herself on a battlefield, he thought as he grunted against his aches and pains, but I'm still not so sure about her wandering out alone on the Texas frontier… He stood and made his way to the mirror that hung above the small dresser in his room to shave and get ready to face the day.

Glancing down he made mental notes of Jordan's handiwork from last night. There was a bruise on his instep…and a red mark still lingered in his palm where she bit him. And the area where she had kneed him was still-ever-so-tender. Tender to the point he had to wake Lu last night when he got back to his room and tell her there was no need for her to warm his bed any longer…his excuse was that he was too tired. The reality was that he couldn't have performed if he had wanted to.

And Woody guessed the truth from that was if even he could have, he wouldn't have wanted to. Not with Lu…as nice as she was. Unless the woman in his bed had chestnut hair, whiskey-colored eyes, and a fiery temperament, he really wasn't interested.

A fact that nearly alarmed him after the months he had spent alone prior to coming to Tyler, Texas. Female companionship would have normally been in the top five things on his agenda. But right now, only one female had caught his eye and she was as skittish as a new born colt…

And lovelier than anything he had ever seen. Jordan Cavanaugh, whether she realized it or not, was a woman made to love….with those eyes and those legs he didn't know why some man in that town hadn't tried to snap her up before now.

Of course the lady's "I-don't-take-nothing-off-nobody" attitude could have something to do with it. Most men don't like a woman with a backbone.

But Woody Hoyt wasn't most men. She was a challenge and he loved a challenge….challenges made winning more meaningful…and surrender all the more sweeter.

On top of that, he was sure, that given enough time and gaining her trust, Miss Cavanaugh would either knowingly or unknowingly lead him straight to the smuggling ring. She may not know the truth directly, but she suspected something. And with Max being the former sheriff, he'd bet his horse that she had better hunches than most people.

Which still made her one of the first people he needed to talk to this morning….and made Garret's office one of his first destinations. He donned his Stetson and walked across the street.

"Can you do me a favor this morning, Jordan?" Garret asked as soon as Jordan walked into his doctor's office.

"Sure thing. What is it?"

"Mrs. Stoneman…"

Jordan's mind raced at the woman's name. She was a young wife…no more than sixteen or seventeen years of age. A girl really, already having to face womanhood on the hard Texas frontier. Jordan was well aware that most girls Lori Stoneman's age were married or engaged…the fact that this young woman was already someone's wife was not anything unusual.

But Lori was pregnant. With twins, as far as Garret could tell. Lori was bigger than most average women were at four months…and Garret swore he could hear two heartbeats with his listening horn.

Whether it was twins or not, was nearly a moot point. It was rough pregnancy made even more difficult by two things. First was the fact that like most frontier women, Lori couldn't stop. Her little family's survival hinged on her being able to cook and sew, raise chickens and a garden. The second was that Lori was very young and very tiny to possibly have two babies.

Throw in the fact, that as far as the baby or babies were concerned, her husband was worse than useless. Despite the fact it was obvious that Ben loved Lori completely, her precarious state of health and the sheer fact that she was going to give birth had rendered the man completely incompetent.

"You want me to go check on her?" Jordan asked.

Garret nodded. "I still think she's overdoing it. See if you can't get her to open up to you ….woman-to-woman…about exactly how she's feeling and how she's handing this pregnancy…the whole situation is making me nervous."

"I don't know, Garret. I may have helped with some births, but I've never given birth myself…I don't know how comfortable Lori Stoneman will be with me, either."

He grinned at Jordan as she got the medical bag together. "She'll be a lot more comfortable talking to you than me…just…try…for the babies' sakes, okay?"

"Sure. I'll be back around lunch…is that alright?"

"That's fine. It should be a quiet morning."

She grabbed the bag off the table and left out the back way. Garret heard her whistling for Camino and a few minutes later she was trotting off.

Garret turned his attention to his journals he was still getting caught up on after last night's escapade of the farmer and the Texas longhorn. Deep in thought, the sudden knock at his door startled him. "Come in…." he called out.

And nearly groaned when the door opened and the new marshal's form filled the doorway. He had heard from Max, Nigel …and Jordan the details of this man's attitude, and had no desire to have a run in with him this morning. Plus the fact that Jordan had revealed to him that this new lawman left her feeling uneasy made Garret less than eager for an encounter with him. "Can I help you, Marshal?"

Woody sheepishly grinned and entered the office, his left hand wrapped in a bloody rag. "I think you can, doc. I seemed to have gashed my hand pretty bad…"

"Okay, come over here, Marshal and let me have a look…" Garret motioned for Woody to come over and sit down in front of him. Gingerly, he began to unwind the old towel wrapped around Woody's hand. "Can you tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I was in the stables taking care of my horse, when something spooked him. He reared and threw me against the wall, and I caught my hand on a nail."

Garret carefully examined Woody's hand. "It's not too bad. Come over here, let's get it cleaned up, and see if you need suturing." Garret led him to an exam area across the hall. He poured clean, warm water in a basin and begin to rinse the wound.

Woody watched him carefully, noting the deliberate, measured movements…the sure signs of a good battlefield surgeon…someone that didn't get upset easily and could see his way clearly through the worse situations. The office was clean and well-ordered. Small and nothing out of the ordinary. If Garret was involved in a gun smuggling ring, obviously the holding place wasn't his doctor's office.

But one thing was oddly out of place. No Miss Cavanaugh. Woody wondered if she had over slept. "Where's your assistant, Miss Cavanaugh?" he finally asked, his curiosity finally getting the best of him.

"Jordan? She's out on a field call. Mrs. Stoneman is in the family way and it's not an easy situation…."

Woody nodded. Most frontier pregnancies and births weren't easy. The land was littered with tiny graves next to the graves of the women that had died giving birth. If he ever had a family of his own, his wife would have the best medical attention he could afford.

And some of what he couldn't, if he could arrange it.

"Does she do a lot of that?" he asked, watching Garret as he continued to clean the wound and assess it. Woody prayed he didn't need stitches. He hated needles and had had more than his fair share of the sharp end of one during the war.

"She seems to handle the women better than I do…they'll talk to her. And a typical birth she can do as well as I can. I'm training her to take more on…"

"That's what Sheriff Malden told me."

Garret hid a grimace. There was no love lost between him and the outgoing sheriff. "Jordan's good….very good….and she's going to make a damn fine doctor. She performed better on the battlefield than a lot of the men doctors I know did. She never lost her cool, never got overwhelmed, and took care of each soldier as if that one was her only charge. She's got more compassion in her little finger than most people do in their entire body."

Woody was surprised at the doctor's frank admission. It was obvious that he thought a lot of Jordan, but from the tone of voice, Woody was becoming fairly sure it was a platonic relationship between the two…nearly father and daughter…as if perhaps Jordan was replacing the daughter Garret had left back East after the war.

He was even a little more shocked about the part of Jordan being compassionate. He knew the woman was passionate yes…about her job, her friends…her patients, even. If any compassion was there for him, she obviously hid it under a tough exterior.

Woody's silence as he contemplated his thoughts prompted Garret to continue. Somehow he thought it was important that his new lawman in their community understand Jordan and not think her odd like Malden did. "She is, you know. Very compassionate. And loving. But Jordan has learned to hide it well…first, you know she was a Civil War nurse on the battlefield. She had to learn to be tough to put up with me…and to simply survive the medical field. That's an area not real open or friendly to women. But it is an occupation Jordan feels called to and she is very, very gifted in.

"Unfortunately, because she has chosen a career over a more traditional woman's role, she doesn't feel like she'll ever have time for a husband or family…she thinks those are out of the picture for her….and in this day and time that's an odd thing for a woman. But she feels if she becomes a traditional wife, she won't be taken seriously as a doctor. So she has always kind of run the boys off with her tough exterior.

Or at least she tries to run them off…It may have worked for other men, but all it's done for me is intrigue me…Woody thought.

"Okay, Marshal…it looks like this might need just a stitch or two here…It won't hurt but a minute."

Woody winced and looked away. Between Jordan and that nail, so far the town of Tyler hadn't been kind to him. "Sure…whatever you say…you're the doctor."

"Plus, she kind of feels that any relationship she has with a man might jeopardize her father. With her mother being dead, Jordan kind of takes care of her dad…a lot of husbands may have a hard time with that," Garret continued, never missing a beat of his conversation or the suturing on Woody's hand.

And I'd just be glad to have a father to take care of… Woody thought as he waited for Garret to tie off the thread and dress his wound. Like him, Woody's father had been a lawman…and had been killed in a shoot out, leaving sixteen year-old Woody and his younger brother Cal completely alone. Their mother had died of consumption when the boys were smaller.

"And there you go Marshal…good as new…or nearly. Come see me or Jordan in a week and one of us can take the stitches out. Meanwhile, keep your hand as clean as possible. You'll be primed and ready for the picnic and dance the following week."

"Please…call me Woody. What dance?" Woody's curiosity was instantly peaked.

Garret grinned. "You obviously haven't heard yet. Not this Sunday, but the following, there'll be a boxed lunch auction to raise money for buy a bell for the church tower….and then a dance later on in the evening. You'll be good as new to go…"

Woody hopped up off the table and pressed a bill in the doctor's hand. "Thanks doc…I appreciate it….taking care of this and the information …" Woody put his Stetson back on and headed for the door. He may not have found out a lot of information about gun smuggling, but he had about Miss Cavanaugh…he had a clearer picture into just what made her tick … and while he didn't know everything, he was getting closer.

And this boxed lunch dance thing may be just what he needed to take advantage of to find out the rest.