Lost and Lassoed (Rebel Blue Ranch, #3)

by Lyla Sage

It was a beautiful thing to watch your best friend be loved in the way you know she deserves.

“Don’t forget, I want to be cremated and shot off in fireworks,” I responded. “While Kiss performs ‘I Was Made for Loving You,’ ” she said with a wave of her hand. “I know, I know.”

Tears poked at the back of my eyes. I know it sounds ridiculously dramatic that I was crying over a jacket, but I wasn’t just crying over the jacket. I was crying over what it meant to me, and the memory attached to it, one of the many moments when Emmy and I had been completely in sync. Partners in crime. And, truthfully, it hadn’t felt like that in a while.

It’s just weird to be happy for her and sad for me at the same time. I contain multitudes and all that shit, I guess.

The other day, one of the girls I work with at the boutique announced that she was pregnant, and my first thought was that we weren’t old enough to get pregnant—especially on purpose. My second thought was to ask her if she knew who the father was. And then I remembered that we’re in our late twenties, and she’s been married for nearly five years. It just feels like everyone is moving on…without me.

I told myself not to cry. I didn’t like crying. I didn’t like seeing my world through watery and swollen eyes.

The Big House was one of my favorite places on earth. It was a big log-cabin-style home that always smelled like leather conditioner and pie crust. There was always hot coffee in the pot, food in the pantry, and a place to hang your hat.

One thing about cowboys? After they’ve been working all day, you can hear them coming, so I knew when Gus was starting to make his way toward me. Leather chaps, and all the buckles they require, are not quiet.

I didn’t like to listen to music when I was hiking or trail running—obviously because of safety, but also because nothing beat the way the sounds of the mountains cleared and calmed my head.

Hot nerdy cowboy with a mustache was not something I thought would do it for me, but…

I didn’t know until right now how nice it felt to be taken care of—how badly I craved it, to just relax and let go. But I didn’t know how I felt about the fact that Gus was the one who was granting me that.

I think when he saw my dad, he saw someone else who was doing it alone, and one thing about Amos is that he can’t resist a stray—horse, cat, dog, human, it doesn’t matter. He always has enough room to take them in.

“How are you feeling?” I asked. “Surviving,” he said. “Scale of one to ten?” “Three,” he said, and my heart swelled. I knew he was lying, but if he felt good enough to lie, that was good enough for me. “Good,” I responded.

“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.

“Don’t cry, Teddy,” I accidentally said out loud. My lip quivered, and my throat hurt. Gus tilted his head and brought one of his hands up to my face. “You can cry, Teddy,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

When I curled into his side, I felt his lips in my hair. “You can cry, Teddy,” he said. And so I cried. And cried. And August Ryder held me the whole time.

If I wanted this thing with Teddy to go anywhere, I’d have to remember that she was built to shine and glow and shimmer, and I couldn’t take that piece of her only for myself. She didn’t shine just for me. I got a different part of her—the part that was comfortable enough to turn down the brightness when we were alone, the part that wanted me to see past what everyone else was blinded by.

After a moment, Gus opened his door and got out of the truck. I was about to follow, but he said, “Don’t you dare open that door on your own, Theodora.” “Yes, Daddy,” I responded coyly. I saw Gus shake his head through the windshield as he crossed in front of the truck, but he was smiling. I knew he couldn’t hide those dimples from me forever.

“Deck-a-dent,” I said slowly. “It means super yummy—something you might not have often because it’s almost too yummy.” “I like deck-a-dent things,” she said. “Me too, Sunshine.”

Over the summer, I’d noticed that every time she started to run—even if it was just from the living room to the kitchen—she let out this maniacal little banshee cackle. It had become one of my favorite noises.

I wondered if she thought I let her go too easily. I told her last night that I never wanted to let her go, and now I was worried that I’d done that accidentally, by letting her leave without talking. Usually I thought actions spoke louder than words. I’d done everything I could to show Teddy how deeply I cared, and she’d done the same for me, but when it came down to a future together, we needed to talk about it too. I needed to tell her that I wanted her for so much longer than the summer.

I wanted Teddy to have it all—a job she loved, purpose, a family, whatever she wanted—and I had a few ideas about how we could at least start on all of those things when she was ready.

At its core, ranching could be summed up in one word: stewardship. Stewardship of the animals on the land and stewardship of the land itself. The land took care of us, and it was our greatest responsibility to take care of it.

“I think you are miraculous, Teddy. I think that your existence—the way you care and fight and love and live—is a miracle. There is no one else like you, and I am so sorry for making you feel like I didn’t know that—that I didn’t see that. I’m sorry for treating you like I didn’t know you the way that I do. I know that you feel things deeply, that you would do anything for the people you care about, and that you love hard.”

I feel like the absolute worst best friend in the world for not seeing that you were hurting. Your feelings about the way our friendship has shifted—they all make sense. I just never noticed because I was still your number one, but I also got to be Luke’s. And when I thought about it that way, I realized that you should have that, too.

“Luke is my fiancé, my partner, my everything. But you’re my soulmate, Teddy Andersen, and I’m the luckiest girl in the world because of it.”

“Hello?” “Teddy baby,” Gus said. He sounded like he was smiling. “How fast can you get to the stables?”

I watched my daughter collide with the woman I loved, and I watched the woman I loved catch her. I watched them laugh and smile at each other, and then I watched them clasp hands and start walking toward me—the luckiest man alive.

Now that we were getting closer, I was starting to get nervous about the surprise. I’d never done anything like this before. I’d never had a reason to, but now I did.

This was the scary thing about want—the fact that it wasn’t a guarantee. It was a wish, and wishes were made of air—at best.

There was no night sky like Wyoming’s. It was vast and sparkling and beautiful. Stars fell and shot all the time with certainty, the moon was effervescent and massive, and it featured as many colors as a sunset. Instead of reds and oranges, it was full of blues and purples and even emeralds.

I listened to the sound of crickets echoing around us. I’d never had anything like this before—where I felt like I could just exist in the quiet. I usually felt pressure to fill the silence, to entertain, but not here, not with Gus.

She was happy to do it. She adores you, Teddy.” “Most people do,” I said.

“I don’t have much to offer,” he went on softly. “Just a quiet life with a grumpy man from a small town, but I can promise to love you every day.” “You love me?” I said. Don’t cry, Teddy. “I do,” he said. “And I want to show you how much I love you every single day.

I want to do everything with you. I want you to be part of my daughter’s life. I want you at every soccer game, barrel race, and art show. I want you there when she sneaks into my bed in the mornings”—he kissed one of my cheeks then. “I want to marry you. I want to have babies with you—little copper-headed demons running around wreaking havoc”—a kiss on the other cheek. “I want to sit on this porch with you thirty years from now and look up at the sky and wonder what I did to deserve a life this good.

“Wanting used to scare me so much, because I didn’t think I had the space to want anything more than what I’ve got. But wanting a future with you is the easiest thing in the world. And I want it all, with ...

“What’s that?” She pointed at my shirt. I looked down and Teddy brought her finger up to flick me in the nose. I still fell for it. Every damn time.

This book is now etched deeply on my heart. I went from feeling lukewarm about Lost and Lassoed to loving it fiercely and passionately and madly. Where I was once scared that the weight of the anticipation would crush me, I have now embraced what I wrote and am openly and excitedly proud of it. Because it’s a love letter to my dad. But it’s in a book that he’s never allowed to read, so I had to write something that he could. This.