Page 27 of Promised to the Cowboy

A pause.

Then she smiles.

“Congratulations.” She points to the screen. “You’re having a little girl.”

For a second, I forget how to breathe.

A girl.

I look at Gabriel. His eyes haven’t left the screen.

“Our girl,” he says softly.

The words seem to surprise him as much as they do me.

Our girl.

I didn’t realize how badly I needed to hear him claim her until he did.

She isn’t an idea anymore.

She isn’t a pregnancy.

She’s a daughter.

The tech prints another image. “She’s not camera shy,” she says with a grin. “She’s giving us some lovely pictures today.”

Gabriel chuckles. “She’s got her mama’s confidence.”

He says it so simply that it takes me a second to realize he means it.

The tech wipes the gel from my stomach before setting the wand aside. “Everything looks reassuring today. I’ll have the doctor come in and go over the scan with you, but from what I’m seeing, your baby girl is measuring right on schedule.”

She looks at me. “We’ll get you booked in for your next appointment before you leave, and I do want you to take aprenatal vitamin every day if you aren’t already. The doctor will go over everything else with you.”

I nod. “Okay. Thank you.”

She glances between us. “Any other questions before I grab the doctor?”

Gabriel clears his throat. “Anything she should be doing differently?”

“Other than not missing any more appointments?” she says kindly. “Eat well, keep taking your vitamins, stay hydrated, and keep showing up.”

Gabriel nods. “Thank you.”

The tech smiles. “Your daughter’s looking wonderful. And so is Mom.”

The doctor spends another fifteen minutes with us, answering questions neither of us knew we had.

She sends us away with a schedule of appointments, a recommendation for prenatal vitamins, and a referral for one more scan in a week.

“Everything looks exactly as I’d expect at twenty-one weeks,” she says as she walks us to the door. “The extra heart scan is simply because of your history, Gabriel. I don’t want you leaving here thinking I’ve seen something worrying. We’re being thorough.”

Gabriel nods. “I appreciate that.”

By the time we leave the pharmacy with a bottle of prenatal vitamins tucked into my bag, my head is spinning with appointment dates and leaflets about childbirth classes.

Gabriel helps me into the truck before climbing behind the wheel, but he doesn’t start the engine straight away—he tucks one of the ultrasound pictures into the visor above us, the one where you can make out the curve of her profile.