Page 79 of The Perfect Hosts

After Lucy and Madeline shot Wes and the ambulance arrived, Madeline rode with him to the hospital in Jackson. The EMTs had worked on Wes during the drive, his blood pooling over the side of the stretcher and onto the floor. Madeline kept expecting Wes to push them aside and lunge at her, but he hadn’t. Twenty minutes after they arrived at the hospital, he was declared dead. And though she once loved her husbandbeyond reason, when Madeline heard the news, all she felt was profound relief.

Though the injuries to Madeline were necessary in order to make the entire scene look authentic, she and Lucy had gone a step too far. Both Madeline and the baby were in distress, their heart rates dipping dangerously low. Madeline was convinced this was her punishment for murdering Wes. She had been trying to protect her child from a man who was controlling and violent, but what if she had, instead, been the one to put her daughter in danger? It was touch-and-go, and Madeline spent a week in the hospital under close supervision. A week later, she gave birth to Isla—beautiful, healthy Isla.

Madeline bends down and picks Isla up from the grass. She lifts her to her shoulder and moves toward her sister, while Blackjack and Pip follow behind at a leisurely pace.

Was what she and Lucy had done murder? Madeline still lies awake at night for hours on end, wondering. Lucy, on the other hand, sleeps like a baby. When Madeline went back home for her stepfather’s funeral, they’d had tense words about the inheritance. But then Lucy saw her bruises and figured out what was going on. Lucy had urged her to go to the police, but Madeline knew that would never work—Wes had resources beyond what they could imagine. He would weasel his way out of the allegations or kill Madeline, whichever came first. “He has to die,” Lucy had finally said. “We have to kill him.” They brainstormed and planned for hours until it all came together. What Madeline didn’t expect was for Lucy to show up the night of the gender reveal party. Their original plan was to wait until after the baby was born, but unknown to Madeline, Johanna had reached out to Lucy.

Dalton had been wrong, as had Madeline. Johanna wasn’t having an affair. But she had been covertly in contact with Lucy giving her updates and letting her know that she thought the abuse was escalating. Johanna hadn’t knownabout Madeline and Lucy’s plan to kill Wes but, like them, believed that Madeline was in grave danger.

The stepsisters are careful not to talk about any of that now. Who knows if they are being monitored by law enforcement?

Madeline, for her part, tried to lie low for the past six months, a nearly impossible feat after Wes’s death and the arrest of his brother. Those headlines have been replaced with new ones, positive ones about Lone Tree Ranch.

“Are you ready to go?” Lucy asks, squeezing Isla’s chubby foot. “Trent has everyone in their seats, ready to go.”

Madeline nods, and together they walk toward the outdoor equestrian ring, the bleachers filled with over two hundred people, all waiting for Madeline to speak. They pass a newly constructed gazebo and garden, filled with flowers and plants and bird feeders, named in honor of Johanna.

Madeline passes Isla to Lucy and walks to the dais erected in the middle of the ring. She climbs the steps, her heart fluttering as she approaches the microphone.

“Welcome to Lone Tree Equine Retreat Center,” she says. “My sister Lucy and I revamped and renovated this space for our nonprofit, offering adaptive riding classes for those with developmental and physical challenges and hippotherapy for those who have experienced trauma due to domestic abuse. We even have special programming for veterans, created especially for their unique needs. In addition to the state-of-the-art facilities, we have world-class equestrian trainers, counselors, nutritionists, physical therapists, and more.”

Madeline looks around the arena. Lucy gives her a thumbs-up, and Trent, now holding Isla, smiles at her broadly. She recognizes a senator and a congresswoman as well as some of the wealthiest and most powerful members of the community. But what makes Madeline’s heart soar are all the children and families here to help celebrate.

“I got the idea for the retreat center,” Madeline goes on,“from something Lucy said when we were teenagers.‘Horses make everything better. You cannot not be happy when you’re riding them. If every sad, broken person could come ride a horse, things would instantly get better.’

“My sister was right. I have always turned to horses when things got hard—when friendships and boyfriends came and went, when our mother died, when our father died.” Madeline scans the audience, and she can tell they are moved by her words. She notices a woman in the third-row bleachers who looks vaguely familiar. She’s holding an infant and staring intently at Madeline.

Madeline clears her throat. These final few sentences are the hardest to say. “After what happened here at the ranch a year ago, after I nearly died... after my daughter Isla nearly died... one of the first things I did when I was able was take Blackjack for a ride.”

Madeline’s eyes keep flicking back to the woman holding the infant, and she loses her place in her speech, fumbles and then continues. “The thing about horses here at Lone Tree Ranch is their unique ability to instantly know what their rider needs. With their gentle eyes, their calming presence. I know better than anyone how lucky, how privileged, I am to still be here, and I want to share this sacred, special place with others who need time to heal.”

The arena explodes with applause, and Madeline invites everyone to eat, drink, and tour the facility. She’s just about to step down from the dais when realization hits her like a lightning bolt. The hair is now shoulder-length and no longer red, but the woman is unmistakably Mellie Bauer, holding a child who looks to be at least three months old.

With Isla back in her arms, Lucy approaches full of smiles and compliments for Madeline’s speech, but Madeline is frozen in place. “What’s wrong?” Lucy asks and follows her gaze toward the third row of the stands where Mellie still sits, asthe crowd of people step past her down the bleachers. “Oh my God,” Lucy says. “Is that Mellie?” Madeline nods. “Do you think that’s his baby?” Lucy asks.

“I don’t know,” Madeline says. The timing could fit. Mellie may not have been pregnant when she first came to the ranch after the explosion, but that doesn’t mean she wasn’t pregnant when she left.

Mellie gets to her feet and shifts the baby to her other shoulder.

“What are you going to do?” Lucy asks.

“If the baby is Wes’s, I’ll do what’s right,” Madeline says. “That baby deserves to be taken care of, just like Isla. I’ll pay her, and then hopefully she’ll just go away.” Madeline knows she sounds confident but can’t help remembering Mellie’s final words to her.

Madeline watches as Mellie straightens her spine and gives Madeline a little wave and a sly smile, her eyes hard.

This is not over.