The Firefighter's New Family. Gail Martin Gaymer

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The Firefighter's New Family - Gail Martin Gaymer


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view. His own fear heightened. Where was she?

      “Mama, get up.” The toddler flailed his arms toward a heavy limb close to the side door.

      He scanned the area and noticed a red wagon among the limbs. As he moved closer, encouraged by the boy’s thrashing arms, he spotted the woman, her dark brown hair splayed across the concrete, her left leg pinned beneath a heavy branch.

      After he made his way through the fallen debris, careful not to jar her, he leaned closer, praying she was alive. He hugged the toddler closer and found the woman’s wrist, feeling for a pulse. Relief flooded him as he felt the faint but steady beat. Below the tree limb, a trail of blood spotted her pant leg.

      Her name? He’d seen the boy and his mother before in the yard, but he’d never had a conversation with her other than a pleasant greeting or a nod. “Ma’am. Can you hear me?”

      “Not ma’am. She’s Mama.”

      His eyes shifted to the toddler’s anxious face while the boy peered at him and accentuated his proclamation. “She’s Mama.”

      Despite his concern, he couldn’t stop the smile.

      The boy nodded, and from the young one’s expression, Devon suspected the child thought he was a bit dense. “What’s your name?”

      “Joey.” He tilted his head as if weighing the question, but his eyes never left his mother.

      “How old are you, Joey?”

      The boy held up three fingers, his focus unmoving.

      “Can you call your mama? Really loud?”

      The toddler’s vigorous nod accompanied his screeching voice. “Maaa-maaa, wake up.”

      Hoping the child’s voice would trigger results, Devon searched the woman’s face.

      Her eyelids fluttered.

      Relief. “Don’t move, ma’am, until—”

      “It’s Mama.” The boy’s determination was evident.

      He released a breath. “Mama.” He needed the toddler out of his arms, but he didn’t have the heart to put him down, fearing what he might do. The woman needed to keep still. “Is anyone else in the house, Joey?”

      The toddler didn’t respond, his eyes focused on his mother.

      Devon used his index finger to shift the boy’s face toward him. “No one’s home? Where’s your daddy?”

      The boy’s expression remained blank.

      No daddy? His chest tightened. He’d seen her and the boy outside, sometimes walking and sometimes she pulled him in the wagon. He’d never seen a man, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have a husband.

      The woman’s eyes opened, and she tried to lift her head.

      “Stay still. Don’t move.” He placed his hand against her shoulder, encouraging her to remain quiet. “Where do you hurt?”

      Fear filled her dazed expression. “What happened?”

      “The tree fell, Mama.” Joey’s voice cut through the air.

      “Joey?” Her eyes closed again.

      “He’s fine. I have him right here.” He touched her arm. “What is your name, ma’am?” The salutation flew out before he could stop it.

      Her lids flickered, then opened. “Ashley. Ashley Kern.”

      “Good.” He gave her arm a reassuring pat before double-checking the facts. “Are you home alone?”

      “It’s only me and Joey.”

      Sirens sounded in the distance, growing nearer every second. “Please try not to move until help comes.” He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and hit 911 again. “Ann, this is Lieutenant Murphy. I’m still on West Drayton near Pinehurst. I have a female pinned under a large limb from a fallen tree. She is conscious. Pulse is faint but steady. I see blood on her left pant leg. I suspect she has a bone fracture. Likely a compound fracture with the bleeding. I’ll need a paramedic ambulance and HURT.”

      The child’s body stiffened.

      “Help’s on the way, Lieutenant.”

      “Mama’s hurt?” Fear filled the boy’s voice.

      He hit End and slipped the phone into his pocket, realizing the child misunderstood. Now he had to appease the boy’s fear. “Joey.” He bounced the boy on his hip. “HURT is what we call people who know how to lift the tree so we can get your mama out without hurting her.” Any more than she was already injured. His stomach churned, viewing the blood and the large limb holding her fast.

      As he finished, the first truck pulled across the street. The men dropped to the ground, most heading for the downed wires, but his friend Clint Donatelli dashed across the road toward him, taking in the scene. “What do we have here?”

      “This boy’s mother’s trapped. She’s dazed but conscious.” He motioned toward her. “I called for help.”

      Clint crouched beside her and felt her pulse. “You’ll be out of here shortly, ma’am.” He rose and gave Devon a thumbs-up, then ran to the street and crossed.

      A police car pulled up at the curb, and before the officers left the car, new sirens drew closer. “Here they come, Joey. These are the good guys who’ll help your mom...mama.”

      “Good guys.” Joey’s grip had lessened as confidence replaced his look of fear.

      In moments, the ambulance and HURT truck arrived. The men hurried to his side carrying equipment they would need. He stepped back to let them work. While one crew set off air bags beneath the lower and upper part of the limb that anchored Ashley to the concrete, another team built the cribbing, the hardwood structure used to brace the tree’s weight if either of the air bags moved and the tree slipped off the bags. Paramedics moved in with a c-collar, splints and a backboard to immobilize her for the ride to the hospital.

      Joey’s tears flowed again.

      He nestled the child closer. “These are the good guys, Joey. See, they’re going to lift the big tree away from your mama and then move her to the ambulance so she can go to the hospital to make sure she’s okay.”

      The child’s earlier confidence had vanished, even with his reference to the good guys. Devon’s stomach knotted while he tried to explain to the toddler what the crew was doing. When Ashley had been strapped to the backboard and shifted from beneath the limb, Devon moved closer, knowing he needed answers about Joey. “Ashley, I need someone to care for your boy. Tell me who to call. I’ll explain what happened.” He turned to the nearest paramedic. “Are you going to Beaumont Hospital in Royal Oak?”

      The medic nodded.

      He followed beside Ashley as they carried her down the driveway. “Ashley, is your husband at work?”

      Her eyelids lowered. “No husband. Call my sister. Neely Andrews.”

      Devon pulled out his cell phone. “Joey, your mama will be okay, but she has to go to the hospital so doctors can make everything better."

      Fear returned to the toddler’s eyes.

      Kicking himself, he wished he hadn’t mentioned the hospital, but he had to be honest. “Your aunt Neely will come to get you, okay?”

      Joey’s arms tightened around his neck. “’Kay.” Though Joey’s voice was hushed, Devon sensed Ashley heard him.

      He punched in the numbers as Ashley struggled to relate them. As the phone rang, he shifted away, hoping what Joey heard next didn’t upset him. The woman’s voice jerked him back to the phone call. “Neely?”

      The line was silent a moment. “Yes?”

      “This is Lieutenant Murphy from


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