Page 26 of Promised to the Cowboy

And then there’s a sound from beside me.

I turn my head. Gabriel’s hands are fisted at his sides, his jaw working. He stares at the screen as though he’s afraid that if he blinks, it’ll disappear.

“That’s—”

His voice gives out.

He tries again.

“That’s our baby?”

That absolutely destroys me.

Because until that second, it’s been a pregnancy.

Now it’s our child.

“What’s that sound?” he asks hoarsely, as if he’s afraid of the answer either way.

“That’s the heartbeat,” the tech explains patiently, no doubt used to reassuring expectant fathers. “Strong one, too.”

He swallows and reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together. His thumb shakes as he smooths it over my knuckles. Not much. Just enough that I know this enormous, capable cowboy who never seems rattled is holding himself together with sheer determination.

“The heart. It’s already going,” he says, mostly to himself. “It’s already—it’s tiny, and it’s already going.”

Then something crosses his face, and the wonder folds down into something like unease. “Can you—” He stops and tries again. “Can you tell, this early, if the heart’s built right? If there’s anything wrong with it?”

“So far, it all looks where it should be,” the technician says reassuringly.

Gabriel’s eyes sheen. “Good.”

This man, who couldn’t serve his country because his own heart runs wrong, stares at a brand-new one beating right.

The tech glances at him, reading something. “Is there a reason to be watching for it?”

A muscle flicks in his jaw. I watch him choose to tell a stranger the thing he’s spent a lifetime wishing wasn’t true, which I know costs him more than it would cost most men.

“I was born with a hole in mine,” he says. “A defect. They patched it when I was small.” His thumb moves once over my knuckles, and I don’t think he knows he’s doing it. “Is that the kind of thing that… carries? Down the line?”

I squeeze his hand as we both look at the screen, this gray smudge with its rabbit heart.

“Some can,” the tech says gently, not pretending it’s nothing. “Some don’t. It’s worth telling the doctor your history so she can keep an eye on the right things. But what I’m seeing today, the rhythm, the size, it’s all right where it should be for twenty-one weeks.”

He nods. I can see him wanting to believe her and not letting himself all the way, holding the fear at arm’s length where it can’t do any damage but won’t leave either. He’s spent his whole life being the thing that came out built wrong. I watch him look at that little flickering pulse and try to make room for the chance that this one came out right.

The tech smiles as she taps a few more measurements onto the screen. “I’ve got one more question.” She looks between us. “Would you like to know whether you’re having a boy or a girl?”

I look at Gabriel. He’s already looking at me. For a second, neither of us answers.

It’s ridiculous that one word could make everything feel even more real than hearing a heartbeat already did.

“What do you think?” he asks quietly.

I smile. “I think...” I look back at the screen. “I think I’d like to know.”

His eyes search mine for a moment before he nods. “So would I.”

“Okay, let’s see if baby is feeling cooperative,” the tech says, moving the probe slightly. “There we are...”