“Three-fourteen Delaware Street. Isn’t that the place you inspected yesterday?”
“Yes.” Ryan’s nerves clenched. “Woman and a child in residence. A deaf child.”
He hadn’t gotten their images out of his mind yet. Laura McKay, with that mop of wiry dark hair springing out around her grave, determined face. Her daughter, Mandy—brown curls, her mother’s dark eyes, and those two hearing aids in her small ears.
“What did you find wrong?”
“Trash on the back porch that should have been in a Dumpster. That’s it.”
He should have called the company about that, even though Laura McKay had told him not to.
“That meshes with what the caller said—a blaze on the back porch.” The siren wailed as they took the corner. “We’ll attack from the alley. You and Dave can do the entry.”
He nodded. Seth was giving him the rescue. Nice to know his big brother had that much faith in him, even though their new relationship of lieutenant to firefighter sometimes rubbed both of them the wrong way.
Of course, if the posting to the arson squad he’d applied for came through, it would eliminate the problem. He’d have a different boss, a different job. He hadn’t told anyone about it yet, not sure himself how he felt about the change.
He pushed the whole business from his mind. There wasn’t room to think about anything else when he went into a fire scene.
They shrieked up the alley, the backs of the buildings a little seedy here compared to the polish of the historic district in the next block. Seth leaned forward, probably assessing what they had to deal with.
Seth’s caution was a good quality for a lieutenant. All Ryan wanted to do was get in there and make the grab. His body itched with the need to move.
A bystander in robe and slippers rushed up to the apparatus. “I’m the one called it in. There’s a woman and kid live there—they didn’t come out.”
Ryan pulled out his hand ax as his feet hit the ground. Dave Hanratty was right behind him, both of them fully geared up with masks. Flames licked at the wooden porch, but the building’s brick walls would slow the blaze down.
He nodded to Dave and together they charged toward the door. A couple of quick hits, a kick, and they were in.
Smoke billowed through the downstairs, and a smoke alarm wailed relentlessly. If Laura heard it, why hadn’t she gotten out by now?
“Stairs.” He pointed with the ax. “Apartment on the second floor.”
They hit the steps running, their footsteps thundering on the wooden treads. No flames had reached this area, but the smoke was the danger. Smoke could kill.
He reached the second-floor landing a step ahead of Dave and raised his ax. Before he could swing, the door opened.
Laura stumbled toward them. The little girl in her arms was partially covered with a blanket, but her small face was pinched with terror.
He reached for the child. The woman tried to hang on to her.
“I’ll take her—” Her words died in a fit of coughing.
He grabbed the little girl, ignoring her frightened wail and the mother’s protests. This was no time for politeness. He passed the child to Dave, who started back down the steps with her.
He grabbed Laura’s arm. “Is there anyone else in the building?”
“No.” She tried to pull away from him. “You scared Mandy. I could have carried her out.”
When it came to stubborn, this woman took the cake. He yanked her to the stairs. “Tell me about it later. Right now we’re getting out.”
Luckily she’d shoved her feet into shoes, so he didn’t have to worry about her getting cut up. He hustled her down the steps. The front door stood open now, and together they rushed out into the fresh morning air.
The paramedic unit had already pulled up to the curb, and the crew from the secondary tank truck was wetting down the adjoining buildings.
He took Laura straight to the paramedics—his sister Terry’s team, thank goodness. Terry was the best. She was already checking out the little girl.
Mandy struggled to get away from Terry’s hands, reaching toward her mother. Laura dropped to her knees on the wet pavement, coughing, and swept her child into her arms.
The lump in his throat might have been from the smoke, but he didn’t think so.
Thank You, Father.
He suspected Dave was saying the same prayer. Any day they got people out safely was a good day.
“You need to let us check you out.” Terry’s voice was gentle but authoritative as she peeled the little girl away from her mother.
Laura nodded, but Mandy took one look at him and began to wail again.
Quickly he stripped off the mask and helmet and squatted next to her. “Hey, Mandy, it’s me.” He pulled off his gloves so he could sign his name. “Ryan.”
The wailing stopped and the child’s dark eyes widened, some of the fear leaving them.
“This is just my mask.” He had to gesture to make up for the signs he didn’t know. “See, Terry is going to give you one, too.”
Mandy clutched her mother’s hand, but she let Terry fit the oxygen mask on her face.
Terry glanced up. “Thanks, Ry. We’re going to take them both to the hospital.”
“I’m all right—” Laura began, but the words were interrupted by a fit of coughing.
“Just to check you out,” Terry said gently. “Don’t worry.”
“Listen to my sister.” He gave Laura a reassuring smile. “Trust me, she knows best.”
She nodded, clasping the little girl close as he and Terry helped them into the rig. “Thank you,” she murmured, and the door closed.
He watched the unit out of sight. They’d be all right. He and Dave had gotten to them in time.
He turned back to the building. A sense of relief went through him. Thanks to their fast response, the crew nearly had the blaze out already. By the looks of things, the damage probably wasn’t going to be severe.
Still, thinking about the job Laura was trying to do, he felt a pang of sympathy. She’d already had her hands full. Now, it looked as if her life had just gotten a whole lot tougher.
Laura trudged up the stairs to the second-floor apartment, following the yellow beam of her flashlight in the darkness. The staircase looked like Mount Everest at the moment. Apparently the doctors had been right about the effects of smoke inhalation.
I’m fine. That’s what she’d kept repeating to the doctors all day so they’d let her go.
Mandy was spending the night at the hospital. Just to be on the safe side, they’d said. She’d stayed there, too, until her daughter fell asleep. She’d been tempted to go to sleep herself in the vinyl chair next to Mandy’s bed.
But she kept thinking about the building. How bad was it? She’d been told the fire department had doused the flames quickly, but no one had told her how severe the damage was. She hadn’t been able to sleep for thinking about it. Finally she’d known she had to see for herself.
So she’d come. She’d change her clothes and get Mandy’s favorite teddy bear to take back to the hospital, just in case her daughter wakened in the night. And she’d check out the damage to the only asset they had to their names.
Then she could go back to the hospital and try to sleep in that chair, once she knew the worst.
She