Rory: Hope City, Book 7 by Maryann Jordan (uplifting books for women txt) 📕

not hold a person. In fact, only a window, and not a door, led to the space. On one, a small, diapered toddler sat screaming. No adult from the apartment was visible. The rail would hold the child in place as long as he remained seated, but the railing was not very high.

“Ladder thirteen, move in.”

“Team two, go from inside.”

“Get the ladder up there.”

“Team four, underneath.”

As the captain yelled the orders, the firefighters efficiently extended the ladder, maneuvering it to the balcony. Still crying, the toddler grabbed onto the short rails and stood, wobbling on his stubby legs. Rory watched as a firefighter scrambled up the ladder to the child. Heart in his throat, he watched as the firefighter lifted the child in his arms, tucking him close.

As soon as he was within reach of another firefighter, they safely transferred the child, allowing the first firefighter to return to the top to unhook the ladder from the railing. The police had just gained entrance to the apartment, one of them lifting the window to peer out, making sure the child was safe.

Rory raced to the bottom of the truck and took the child from the firefighter’s arms. The child was cold, screaming, face red with tears and snot running down his cheeks, chin, and chest. Bobby threw a blanket around the child, and Rory shifted his hold to keep the child wrapped. Moving to the back of the ambulance, he stepped up and lay the child on the gurney. Pulling out his stethoscope, he began listening to the little boy’s lungs which, by the ear-splitting screams, appeared to work well. Shania leaned over and unfastened the wet diaper.

Another call came over the radio, this time from the police inside the apartment. “Requesting twenty-three-D-one. Apartment three-forty-two. Unconscious female. Possible overdose.”

He looked up sharply toward Bobby. “Is another EMS responding?”

“Looks like EMS two is on its way. ETA four minutes.”

“Shania, take over here, and I’ll get inside,” he said, pushing to a stand.

Her hand snapped out toward him, and as he turned toward her was struck by the mad-as-hell expression on her face.

“I was all ready to go momma on this little tyke, but now that I know his real momma might be inside passed out drunk or high… I’m ready to kick some ass,” she bit out on her way out of the ambulance.

“Don’t get fired… or arrested!” Bobby called out after her.

“Okay, you take this one until EMS two gets here and can get inside to transport if needed. I’m going after Shania to make sure she’s still with us tomorrow and not in jail.” With that, Rory gently slid past Bobby, allowing him to continue to assess the child. As he jogged toward the building, he called out to James. “See if we can get a name for the child. Bobby’s got him while I go inside.”

Passing one of the police officers, he added, “Depending on what we find up here, you may have to call Child Protective Services.”

He took the stairs two at a time, seeing that Shania had already made it to the apartment. Heading inside, he jerked at the smell of feces, urine, and garbage. “Jesus…” A glance around showed a garbage pail with dirty diapers spilling over the sides, food on the counters, dirty dishes piled in the sink, and trash all over. A young, barely-conscious woman lay on the sofa, pills on the coffee table along with other drug paraphernalia.

Shania was listening to her heart and had an oximeter on her finger and a blood pressure cuff on her arm.

“Damn, girl, you work fast,” he commented, kneeling next to her.

“When I’m as pissed as I am, I can get things done,” she retorted. She brushed the girl’s straggly hair back from her face.

He knew she was concerned about the child, but for all her talk, she was also concerned about the young woman lying in front of them. He turned to one of the police officers standing nearby. “Do we know if this is the child’s mother?”

“According to the neighbor, she is. Marcia Burton. Child’s name is Matthew. Says the mom calls him Mattie.”

“EMS two is here,” came the announcement on the radio.

“We need transport in apartment three-forty-two. Female, early twenties, possible overdose. Pressure seventy over forty. Pulse thirty-eight.”

He heard a noise in the hall and stepped to the side as two other paramedics from his station that had just come onto duty came into the room carrying a portable stretcher.

“Good, she’s little,” Richard said, nodding down to the stretcher in his hands. “This board will do the job.”

“You need another pair of hands? We’ve got the child in our vehicle.”

“Nah, we’ve got it,” Richard said, offering Rory a nod.

He called out to Shania, “Heading down.” She stood and gave the medical information to the EMT assisting in the room. Jogging back down the stairs, he knew she would soon follow, probably irritated she couldn’t give an old-fashioned ass-kicking to the woman who’d neglected her son.

He and Shania were back in their ambulance and made the call to transport the child to the hospital. “Check to see if CPS will meet us at the hospital.”

“Already talked to them,” Bobby said. “A hospital social worker will meet us there and stay with the child until CPS gets someone there.”

“Good on you,” Shania grinned, sitting on the gurney with a now-quiet Mattie.

Rory glanced into the rearview mirror. “Looks like that dry diaper and warm blanket are doing the trick.” The child was lying on his back, smiling up at the keys Bobby dangled above him. The ambulance soon pulled outside the ER, and when Rory opened the back of the ambulance doors, he reached his hands up and took little Mattie from Bobby, carrying him through the automatic doors. By the time the paperwork was completed and signed off, CPS had someone there to meet them. She had the police report and declared emergency custody.

Rory waved as they walked back out, the sight of the now-smiling