Page 70 of Ride Me Reckless

Dr. Jensen leaned in a bit. “Miscarriages are more common than we talk about—one in four pregnancies, statistically. And most of the time, it’s not anything the mother did or didn’t do. It’s just nature, chromosomes, things we don’t always control. But I’ll do every test, every check, to make sure you’re supported every step of the way.”

Tessa swallowed, her voice barely audible. “So you think I can carry this one?”

“I do,” he said without hesitation. “I think this baby has every chance in the world. And I think you’re stronger than you know.”

Her lip trembled, but she held it together. I didn’t know whether to wrap her up in my arms or just hold her hand tighter, so I did the only thing I could—stayed right where I was, steady as I could be.

“I’ll send in the ultrasound technician,” he added gently, standing up. “I want you to see that everything is going well. All right?”

Tessa nodded, wiping a tear quickly with the back of her hand.

When the door closed behind him, the room went quiet again, except for the low hum of the wall vent.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Don’t be,” I told her. “You’re allowed to feel whatever you need. I’ve got you.”

The technician came in and helped her lie back, adjusting the monitor and wheeling over the portable ultrasound machine. I stayed seated beside the table, watching as Tessa pulled up her paper gown and exposed a patch of pale skin. I took her hand without thinking.

“You ready?” the technician asked, spreading the cold gel across her belly.

“Yeah,” Tessa whispered.

The machine buzzed softly as the nurse moved the probe. Static. Then a blurry black-and-white swirl. And then?—

“There it is,” she said softly. “That little flicker, right there? That’s the heartbeat.”

I leaned forward, squinting at the monitor. It looked like nothing and everything. Just a tiny, bean-shaped figure in a sea of gray, pulsing with the softest of rhythms.

“Can you hear it?”

The technician smiled and turned a dial.

And then we heard it. That fast, steady whoosh-whoosh-whoosh, like tiny galloping hooves echoing off the inside of my mind.

Tessa’s hand tightened in mine. Her eyes filled instantly, but she didn’t look away from the screen.

“That’s your baby,” she said, quieter now.

Tessa nodded, tears spilling over. “I didn’t get to hear it last time.”

I swallowed hard, feeling like I was holding my breath in a church pew. Sacred didn’t even begin to cover it.

“Everything looks perfect for this stage,” the woman added. “Strong heartbeat. Good placement. We'll print out a picture for you to take home.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?” I asked, hugging her shoulders.

She turned to me slowly. “That was real. I heard it.”

Outside, I opened the truck door for Tessa and climbed in behind the wheel. She turned to me, still a little dazed. “How do you feel?”

I just grinned and cranked the engine to life. “Peachy,” I said. “We’re goin’ for a little ride.”

She narrowed her eyes. “To where?”

I pulled onto the road and tapped the steering wheel like it had a secret.

“You’ll see soon enough.”