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

required hours of training to become a paramedic, but then he’d have to take more classes, study, and take the national exam, followed by the state licensing certification.

He had a lot of work in front of him to accomplish his goals. Sandy did not strike him as fling material, but he had no time or money for a relationship. Hell, not on my shoestring budget. Rolling over, he looked around the room that he’d grown up in. Their house was large, but with six kids, they’d filled it to the brim. Squarely middle class, he’d lacked for nothing, even if money was occasionally tight.

Blay was right… a relationship wasn’t in the cards at this time, and even if it was, Sandy wouldn’t be the right choice. He’d spent the last week thinking of the gorgeous and funny woman, now hating the idea that there would be nothing more. But after years of giving everything he had to Uncle Sam’s Army, it was time to focus on him.

The fire truck pulled into the Second Battalion Barker Street Station, and Rory climbed down, immediately pulling off his gear. He wiped the sweat from his brow and heaved a sigh. It was time to check the equipment and get ready for the next shift that would be arriving within the hour—and that was if another call didn’t come in. Three automobile accidents, one garage fire, and two emergency calls had kept them busy during the shift.

The station held the massive ladder truck, two fire engines, and two ambulances. The bays were kept clean and all equipment was checked at the end of each run. The firefighters moved about the space, each to their duties, jokes abounding as they worked off the stress.

“McBride!”

He glanced over his shoulder and saw another firefighter walking toward him.

“Chief wants a word.”

He looked upward and saw the Battalion Chief standing on the platform near his office that overlooked the large truck bays. Nodding, he handed the toolbox he had just taken down to clean and check to the other firefighter and jogged to the metal stairs leading to the second floor. This level held the barracks, the kitchen, and break room as well as several administrative offices.

Knocking on the door frame, he waited until he’d been permitted to enter. Chief Marks was generally easygoing, but not having any idea why he was being summoned, Rory wanted to offer every respect.

“Come in, McBride.”

Entering the office, he took in the space with a glance. Shelves lined one wall and windows that overlooked the main bay area filled the opposite wall. The chief’s desk was large but utilitarian grey metal. Chief Marks was in his fifties with thick, grey hair cut close to his head. He had no problem smiling with the firefighters when the time was right but also had no problem jerking someone’s chain when that was required as well. A flashback of approaching his father when he knew he’d been caught screwing up hit him. He searched his mind to see if he could remember a reason why the chief would need him but came up empty.

“You requested to see me, sir?”

“Sit down, McBride,” the chief said, chuckling. “You can take it easy. You’re not in trouble.”

“Thank God, sir.” He grinned in return, dropping quickly into the chair in front of the desk, maintaining an erect posture. The Army’s habits were hard to break.

Chief Marks had an open file on his desk and he peered down at the contents before lifting his gaze, holding it squarely on Rory. “You handled everything from burns to gunshot wounds in Afghanistan, but the road to transitioning from a Sixty-eight Whiskey back to the civilian world isn’t easy.”

Rory nodded at the chief’s words, but since they were true, he had no comment. As an Army Combat Medic, he’d handled complex medical and emergency situations, but becoming certified as an EMT or paramedic back in the states was difficult. Licensing, educational credits for past work, and reciprocity, just to name a few roadblocks.

“Of course, it’s a lot better now that the military requires a National Registry of EMT certification. Your scores were exceptional, and now that you’ve completed your one-hundred-fifty hours of training, I’m pleased to let you know that you’ll soon receive your EMT certification. We should get the official paperwork later this week, and if you still want to join the Hope City EMS department, I’ve got a temporary position in this station. Frank broke his wrist over the weekend and had surgery. He’ll be off rotation for about two months. Once he’s back, the Captain at Clifton Street Station has an EMT that has given notice. She’s moving to Texas with her husband and I’ve recommended you for the position.”

The air rushed from his lungs and a smile burst forth, unable to be hidden. “Sir, I… well, I can’t thank you enough!”

Chief Marks waved his hand dismissively. “You put in the work. You did your tour of duties in the Army as a certified combat medic, then completed what you needed as well as volunteered with the fire department. This is entirely on you, son.”

“I know, sir, but the opportunity to be able to move from volunteer here to a paid position is more than I hoped for.”

“It works for all of us. You’re used to this station and the people. I’m shifting a few people around since Frank is out. You’ll be assigned to Carlotta. She’s got seniority. She’s smart and you’ll do well with her until you transfer to Clifton Street.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now, about your paramedic training. Still taking classes?”

“Yes, sir,” he replied, once more.

“HC wants to encourage advancement in training. Now that you’ll be an employee of the city, you’ll have the opportunity for on-the-job training that will count for certification. You’ll also have time off and schedule arrangements for the classes you’ll be taking. Your military training allowed you to step into an EMT position, but you’ll find the demands on your time to become a