Page 65 of Lost and Lassoed

“A few snacks and supplies,” she said. “And I stopped at Teddy’s before I came to grab a few things for her and Hank.”

I don’t know why that pushed on my chest—I was going to have to get that checked out—but it did. I set my breakfast burrito down and leaned across the couch and pulled Emmy into my arms.

She let out a little laugh. “Are you feeling okay, August?”

I pulled back after a few seconds. “You’re a good friend, Emmy,” I said. “You guys are lucky to have each other.”

Emmy narrowed her eyes. “You realize that you just complimented Teddy—again.”

So much had happened since my first compliment.

I shrugged in response. The way Emmy was looking at me was very reminiscent of our father, and I tried not to sweat.

I stayed quiet, not wanting to accidentally blurt out that I’d given Teddya lotof compliments last night. It’s a good thing I wasn’t a blusher like Wes, or thinking aboutthatwould’ve been a dead giveaway.

Get it together, August. You’re in a hospital.

“Well,” Emmy said after a minute, “c’mon, then.” She patted my leg and picked up the paper bag with the food in it, leaving the canvas bag and the cupholder with coffees on the small coffee table in front of the couch.

“So you want me to grab everything else, then?” I said sarcastically as I picked it all up. Emmy walked toward the door and pushed it open slowly.

“Ted?” she said quietly, then pushed the door open all the way and walked in. I followed.

Teddy was back in the chair at Hank’s bedside. Hank’s bed had been positioned so he was sitting up. There was a tray ofhospital food in front of him—I must’ve been asleep when they brought it by.

It looked like he and Teddy were playing games on one of the napkins—tic-tac-toe and that game where you connect the dots to make squares. Emmy walked over to Hank’s bed and gave him a kiss on the cheek, then put her arm around Teddy’s shoulders and gave her a hug.

“Hank,” Emmy said. “How the hell are ya?”

“Survivin’,” he said, with a smile that made him look more like himself.

“And looking damn good while doing it,” Teddy chimed in. She smiled too, and some of the weight that’d been on my chest all night lifted. “Please tell me you brought something edible.”

“Of course I did,” Emmy said. She set the bag of burritos on Hank’s bedside table. She pulled two out and handed one to Hank and one to Teddy. “And I brought coffee. Hank, I love you, but you can’t have any.”

“Understood,” Hank said with a sigh.

“Gus,” Emmy said to me, “Teddy’s is the—”

“—the brown sugar one,” I finished for her without thinking.

“You know,” Emmy said to Teddy, “I’m starting to feel pretty confident that my maid of honor and best man might actually be able to walk down the aisle without trying to trip each other.”

I risked a glance at Teddy. Her eyes brightened, and she smiled a little. It was the first sign I’d seen all day of the Teddy I knew, and I wanted to breathe a sigh of relief. “Is that so?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” I said, and when Emmy looked at me, her eyes narrowed.

“August Boone Ryder,” Emmy said, still squinting—like she was trying to see me better. “Is that…a smile?”

“No,” I lied. I could feel the smile creeping up my face.

Emmy stepped toward me and poked me in the cheek—right in the dimple that rarely showed itself. “It is!” she exclaimed. “Teddy, what are you doing to him?”

Please god, don’t answer that.

“I don’t want to know,” Hank chimed in.

Teddy laughed. “What else did you bring?” she asked, artfully changing the subject.

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