Chapter 19
Madeline
Madeline sits on the hotel bed staring blankly at the television, waiting for Wes to come out of the shower. The doctors in
the emergency room took X-rays and a CT scan of Wes’s head, diagnosed a mild concussion and sent them on their way, advising
plenty of rest. It could have been so much worse, the physician said. If Dalton had hit Wes with a fraction more force, he
would have shattered his skull, given him a brain bleed, or even killed him.
Waiting in this Jackson hotel room for the last two days is making Madeline want to jump out of her skin. She’s eager to get
home, but Wes insists they stay in the hotel until the house is no longer a crime scene so they will be more comfortable.
Madeline knows he’s right. The cots in bunkhouses are a far cry from the temperature-controlled, king-size bed and Egyptian
cotton sheets they slept in the last two nights.
Madeline still can’t believe that Dalton broke into their house and came after them with a crowbar, accusing Wes of having affair with Johanna.
At times, she does wonder if Wes has been faithful to her.
Admittedly, he is a notorious flirt. His behavior with Lucy is a perfect example, but she always thought the flirtations were harmless.
Madeline is confident Johanna would never have broken her trust. She might have been cheating on Dalton, but it wasn’t with her husband.
The bathroom door opens and steam billows out as Wes steps into the room wrapped in a towel. His left shoulder is a nasty
shade of purple, and his right eye is swollen shut. Madeline cringes at the sight. Wes is lucky, Madeline thinks for the hundredth
time. He could be dead.
“Are you hungry?” she asks. “Do you want to order room service?”
Wes gives a little shake of his head and winces with pain. “No, I’m not hungry, but you order something. You have to eat.”
“Okay,” Madeline says but knows she won’t. She has to get out of this room. Wes is getting short-tempered, and she is getting
tired of sitting in this dark, silent space. “I’ll get you more ice,” she says.
“No, thanks,” Wes says. “I’m going to call Trent. Will you grab my phone for me?” He sits on the bed next to Madeline.
“Here, why don’t you lie down,” Madeline says, reaching over him to adjust the pillows.
“Dammit, Madeline, I’m fine,” he says, swatting away her hand.
“Wes,” Madeline says, unable to keep the hurt from her voice.
He expels a long breath. “I’m sorry. I’m going stir-crazy here, and I’m worried about my brother. And those things Dalton
said about Johanna and me . . . You know I would never cheat on you, right?” he says.
“I know,” Madeline says, brushing the hair gently from his eyes, all the while wondering if he is lying to her. “Dalton wasn’t
making any sense. Why would he think such a thing?”
“How the fuck should I know?” Wes says, dropping his head into his hands. “And why wasn’t the alarm set? I told you to make sure it’s armed whenever I’m not home, and look what happened. Now we’re the ones who have to clean up Dalton’s brains from our baby’s floor.”
“Wes!” Madeline gasps, shocked.
“What?” Wes says. “It’s true. And why the hell did you invite that waitress to stay with us? Seriously? Of all the times for
a houseguest.”
“Her name is Mellie, I told you that after the explosion we rode to the hospital in the same ambulance. She’s scared and all
alone. I was just trying to be nice,” Madeline says, pulling a bottle of water from the wet bar. “I’m sure she’ll leave soon.
She just needs time to get her bearings.” She unscrews the lid and offers it to Wes, but he waves it away.
On the dresser, Wes’s phone begins to vibrate. They both stare at it.
“Will you grab that for me, please?” Wes finally says, his tone formal and clipped. Madeline picks up the phone, sneaking
a look at the display. There’s no name, just a string of numbers. She hands it to Wes and then lowers herself onto a chair
covered in chintz. The sun is barely up, and any incoming calls at this time of morning can’t bring good news.
“Hello?” he says cautiously into the phone. “This is Wes.” He then falls silent while the person on the other end continues.
He glances toward Madeline, who is holding her breath, and he holds up one finger as if to tell her hang on a second.
Dix, Madeline thinks. It has to be the hospital. Or maybe the police. Or the worst-case scenario—the coroner. “Uh-huh,” Wes
says, his face falling.
“Who is it?” Madeline asks. “What’s happening?”
Shut up, Wes mouths and then returns to his call. “No, I understand . . . Keep me posted? . . . All right.” Wes’s voice breaks. “Thank
you.”
He sets the phone down on the bed beside him and covers his eyes with one hand.
“What?” Madeline asks, her heart thundering in her chest. “What happened?” Wes and Dix are as close as two brothers can be.
“That was the sheriff’s office. They haven’t found him yet,” Wes says. “They’ve checked all the hospitals in the county. He’s
not at any of them.”
“Oh my God, that’s awful. He has to be somewhere,” she says, dropping on the edge of the bed just as Wes is getting to his
feet.
“What are you doing?” Madeline asks as he moves to the closet where the clothes he wore the other day hang, now laundered
by hotel housekeeping.
“I’m going home. I can’t take another minute just sitting here doing nothing.”
“Home?” Madeline asks in surprise. “Do you think we can even get back into the house yet?”
“Not we, me,” Wes says, getting to his feet with a groan. “And yes, they released the scene, but I want you to stay here.”
“I don’t want to be here without you, and you can’t drive yourself,” Madeline says in disbelief. “You have a concussion, and
you can barely keep your eyes open.”
“I’m not planning on driving,” Wes says, tapping a text out on his phone. “I’m texting Trent for a ride. You stay here, get
some rest.”
“But I want to go home too,” Madeline insists. “I don’t want to stay here all by myself.”
“You’re staying,” Wes says, removing the plastic cover from his laundered clothes. “Besides, I’m only stopping at home to
grab a few things, and then I’m going to find Dix myself. Phone calls obviously aren’t working.”
“Wes,” Madeline says in exasperation. “You were nearly killed. Be smart about this.”
Wes shoots a dark look her way, and Madeline clamps her mouth shut. “No,” he says with finality. “I want to make sure the house is safe and secure before you come home, and I don’t want you staying there without me.”
Madeline knows better than to argue. Once Wes makes up his mind, there’s no changing it.
He finishes dressing and sits in moody silence until there’s a knock at the door. Wes’s ride.
“I love you,” Madeline says, kissing his lips gently before he goes to answer the door to let Trent in.
“I love you too,” Wes says. “Get some rest. There’s a credit card on file at the front desk, and I’ll call the room with any
news.”
Wes opens the door, but it isn’t Trent as Madeline expected. It’s her sister. Lucy has her hands stuffed in her pockets and
greets them with an innocent smile.
At the shocked look on Madeline’s face, Wes says, “I texted Trent, but he said one of the mares is foaling. He has to be there,
so Lucy was kind enough to come get me.”
“It’s my pleasure,” Lucy says, hooking her arm through Wes’s. “Don’t worry, Mads. I promise to take excellent care of the
patient and make sure he gets home safe and sound.”
“I’m sure you will,” Madeline says, working hard to keep the irritation from her voice. Lucy hasn’t called her Mads, the family’s
pet name for her, in years.
Wes gives her one more peck on the cheek before stepping out into the hallway. “I’ll call you with any news,” he says and
then shuts the door, leaving Madeline all alone.