Page 39 of Lost and Lassoed

“She would,” Gus agreed. There was longing in his voice. “What about you? Do you want some copper-headed demons running around someday?”

I wasn’t expecting his question. I thought about it for a second, chewing on my answer. It wasn’t like me to think before responding, but something about the way he asked made me want to give him a thoughtful answer. “I think so,” I said. “Some days I think I definitely want one or two, and then other days, I’ll see something on the internet that no one ever told me about childbirth, and I’m like ‘No, absolutely not, please keep that little alien out of my body’—but I think so.” This was new to me—I’d never really given it much thought before this past year. I didn’t know if I’d be a good mom the way Gus was a good dad. I knew how to take care of people, but taking care of a child was a whole other ball game. There were so many ways to fuck a kid up. “If I found the right person,” I added.

Gus looked around at me again. He’d paused on the T-shirt he was folding, and his voice was sincere when he said, “I hope you find what you’re looking for, Teddy.”

“I hope you do too.” And I really did.

Chapter 19

Gus

It turned out, much to my surprise, that Teddy Andersen was pretty good company when she wasn’t being a fucking menace.

We’d never talked this way before. We’d never been able to have a conversation that didn’t devolve into a petty argument, but that didn’t happen, not tonight.

I liked that she’d asked me questions about Riley and about Cam. I hadn’t really done a lot of dating since Riley was born—especially in the last couple of years. Things had really picked up on the ranch, my dad was starting to turn things over to me, and Riley was always my priority. It didn’t really leave a lot of time to get to know someone.

But before that, when I did try to date, women were always weird about Cam. It wasn’t easy. I always got the feeling they were trying to fulfill some ready-made family fantasy with my daughter and me—like both of us were just an opportunity to live out some weird dream they had about my family or Rebel Blue.

Talking to Teddy made me wonder what it could be like todo this—talk, fold laundry, listen to music—with someone I actually liked.

Probably pretty fucking great.

Teddy had finally fallen quiet.

“How are you feeling?” I asked.

“Like a bunch of rabid raccoons are feasting on my uterus.”

“That’s a nice visual,” I huffed, then shook my head.

“The heating pad is helping, though. Thank you.” I nodded. I didn’t know how to respond to Teddy thanking me for something—it was weird.

“So, is this what you normally do when you have a night off from parenting? Laundry?”

“I’m usually better at keeping up with it,” I said as I folded one of my T-shirts. “But with everything lately, it’s just…piled up.” I thought about when Teddy threw in a load of Riley’s laundry that first day she was here, and how inadequate it made me feel. Like I couldn’t even make sure my kid had clean clothes.

I gritted my teeth.

“Laundry sucks,” Teddy said. “I always forget that I put it in the washer and then it sits there for two days, and then I go to put another load in and have to rewash the first load, and then I do that cycle approximately three more times before anything makes it out of the dryer. Plus, our washer is this close to crapping out on us, so I have to choose what I wash sparingly until we can fix it or get a new one.”

I wondered what was wrong with Teddy and Hank’s washer and whether it might be an easy fix. “You know you can always do laundry here,” I said.

“That’s nice of you,” Teddy responded. “Thank you.”

“I like doing laundry,” I said. “It’s methodical, doesn’t take alot of brain power.” I picked up a pair of Riley’s jeans and noticed a hole in the thigh. “Fuck,” I grumbled. “This is like the tenth piece of clothing of hers that has a hole in it.” I skipped folding it and threw it into the pile with the other holeyclothes.

“I can patch those for you,” Teddy said simply. “My sewing machine is broken, so I’d have to do it by hand, but it won’t be hard. As payment for letting me do laundry here.” Jesus, was anything in the Andersen household not broken?

“I don’t need any payment,” I said. “But that would be great, actually. There’s a shirt in there that she would be heartbroken to throw away.”

“I’ll start on them tomorrow,” Teddy said. “I never get rid of clothes unless I have to.”

“Thanks, Teddy,” I said, and I meant it.

“Was that so hard?” Teddy asked.

“What do you mean?”

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