Page 62 of Lost and Lassoed

We kept eye contact for a few seconds longer before I let go of her elbow. Once she was out of my grip, she rounded the corner to room 108.

The door was ajar. Teddy paused for a fraction of a second before she pushed it open and went inside. I stayed in the doorway, unsure if she wanted me to follow her inside.

My dad was sitting in one of the chairs at Hank’s bedside. He had his glasses on and was reading the newspaper. When Amos saw Teddy, he immediately stood with arms wide open.

Teddy hugged him, but her eyes were on her father, who was asleep in the bed. When I saw Hank, it felt like I’d gotten the wind knocked out of me.

Hank had used a cane or a wheelchair for the past few years, and time had started to show on him, but I’d never seen him look like this. Hank was badass, but right now, in a white hospital gown, with tubes sticking out of him, he looked fragile. It was hard to see that.

My dad looked over Teddy’s head at me and nodded. The expression on his face was sad and tired. His best friend of nearly three decades was lying in that bed.

“What happened?” Teddy asked. She sounded the wayHank looked, and hearing her voice like that made my chest crack wide open.

Teddy pulled out of the hug, and my dad put his hands on her upper arms—like he was trying to steady her. “He had a heart attack, but he was able to yell for his nurse. She called 911, and they got him here in record time. They’re going to keep him for observation for a few days—just because of his history and his age—but he’s going to be fine, Teddy.”

“I should’ve been there,” she whispered, and my dad pulled her to him again.

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, Teddy,” he said. “You will not blame yourself for this, do you hear me?” My dad was using his firm but soft voice. It was one that he’d mastered over the years and one that I’d tried to replicate with my own daughter.

He guided Teddy to the chair he’d been sitting in and told her to sit down. She grabbed her dad’s hand as she did. Her face was still blank. She hadn’t even cried yet. “We’ll get you some coffee, okay?” my dad said, looking at me, and I nodded.

I turned and walked out the door and heard my dad’s boots follow. He shut the door behind us. “Thanks for getting her here so quick, August,” he said with a pat on my shoulder and a squeeze.

“Yeah,” I said. “He’s really going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be okay,” my dad responded. “You can head home if you want. I’ll call Emmy when it’s not the middle of the night, and we can cover it.”

“No,” I said immediately. “I want to stay with her.”

Chapter 27

Teddy

I heard the door to my dad’s hospital room click shut, and as it did, my shoulders slumped. I felt so unbearably exhausted.

For someone who was feeling that her life was boring a few weeks ago, it sure as hell wasn’t boring right now. In the past four hours alone, I’d had enough happen to keep me satisfied on the events front for a good long while.

We weren’t going to unpack the other event right now, though.

I reached out and folded my other hand over my dad’s. His skin felt like paper against mine, and I couldn’t swallow.

Don’t cry, Teddy.

My dad’s chest rose and fell as he slept. He looked so small in his hospital bed. His hair wasn’t tied back the way it normally was, and his beard was loose. It was almost like I was looking at someone else’s version of my dad and not my actual dad.

I’d seen my dad in a hospital bed a few times, and every time, I’d wished I’d never have to see it again. It made me feellike there was broken glass in my chest where my heart should be. Dads were supposed to be invincible, and even though I knew my dad wasn’t, I still wished he could be.

He’d been through a lot over the past couple of years—problems with his lungs, liver, and kidneys. All of that had taken a toll on his body, and he didn’t move around as well as he used to. He still played the guitar, but it was a lot more difficult for him to sit behind a drum kit—his true love. It broke our hearts, but both of us tried not to let it show.

I couldn’t pinpoint the moment when the dynamic between us shifted, when I started taking care of him in the ways he always took care of me—making sure he was eating and sleeping, or that he was warm enough and taking his vitamins. I didn’t think twice about doing it because I owed him everything.

And today, I wasn’t there. For the first time ever, I wasn’t there for him.

My lower lip quivered, and I let out a shaky breath. I thought about my dad, alone in his bed while his heart betrayed him. I thought about how scared he must’ve been, and I felt so guilty.

I should’ve been there. I should always be there.

It had always been my dad and me against the world. He’d always said that he and I were a two-man band—the favorite band he’d ever been part of, and he’d been in a lot of them. He had been in a band when he first came to Meadowlark over thirty years ago. He’d passed through on a tour bus and it stuck with him—the Welcome sign, the small main street, and the rancher and his cowboys wrangling escaped cattle on the side of the road.

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