Free Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8) by Amanda M. Lee

back,” Thistle hissed. “I’m nothing like that woman. Marcus, tell her I’m nothing like Aunt Tillie.”
    Now I was the one caught. “I think you have many wonderful qualities,” I said, choosing my words carefully. “One of them is a tendency to dig your heels in, which shows you’re determined. The other is your delight in irritating your family, which makes you very entertaining and a true slave to your muse.”
    “Wow,” Landon intoned, making a hilarious face. “That was a masterful turn of a phrase. I am impressed.”
    “Me, too,” Sam said.
    “Yes, this isn’t my first rodeo,” I said, sputtering as Thistle elbowed me in the stomach and scorched me with a murderous look. “That was a compliment, Thistle.”
    “You’re on my list,” Thistle warned, although she settled her head against my chest and focused on the fire. “What do you guys think is really going on around here? Between the blood in the loft, the attempts to get into Aunt Tillie’s field and Winnie’s stolen pie, something weird is happening.”
    “We don’t know that everything is related, though,” Bay cautioned. “They could be three separate instances. People are always trying to find Aunt Tillie’s pot field, and a holiday weekend when everyone is looking to party would make the field doubly tempting.”
    “That’s true,” Landon said, brushing Bay’s hair from her face. “I think whoever was in Marcus’ loft is the same person who stole the pie, though.”
    “Because of the blood?” I asked.
    Landon nodded. “I think it’s too much of a coincidence.”
    “You don’t know that the blood in the loft was human, though,” Bay pointed out. “As far as we know, an animal died up there and got dragged off by a bigger predator. It could’ve been a smaller bird or even a cat or something killed by an owl.”
    Landon opened his mouth, and for a moment I thought he was going to call her on her assumption. He changed his mind mid-course, though. “You’re right,” he said finally. “We don’t know anything yet. I’m still waiting for confirmation from the lab. So far we have a stolen pie.”
    “Yes, and great memories,” Thistle enthused. “I will never forget Winnie screaming ‘Someone put their grubby hands on my pie!’ I almost died.”
    “That’s because you have a demented mind,” I said, although I couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I liked when she realized why we kept snickering and threatened to unleash unholy hell on us if we didn’t find her pie.”
    “Then we just laughed harder,” Landon said. “I’m not going to get bacon all weekend. I know it.”
    We lapsed into amiable silence for a few minutes. I wasn’t surprised when Clove was the first to break it. “What are your plans for the stable expansion?”
    “I’m going to double its size out the back,” I replied. “We’re going to keep more than horses in there. I also want a dedicated storage area so the other barn will be completely open for home renovations. Thistle wants to add display windows on the front so we can draw people in with haunted scenes in the front area by the door.”
    “That sounds like a great idea,” Bay said. “People will love that. How are you going to do it?”
    Despite their argumentative ways, Thistle, Bay and Clove loved each other beyond reason. Even though they were mid-fight about the spare room in the guesthouse, Bay enjoyed bolstering Thistle’s creative endeavors.
    “Well, Marcus has a bunch of vintage riding gear in the loft,” Thistle said, leaning forward. “I figure I can paint different backdrops on two big canvases, put them on either side of the main door, and then use wire to make it look as if the outfits are being held up by ghosts.”
    “Ooh, that sounds neat,” Clove said, getting in on the action. “We’re going to be ordering some lighting stuff for the ship when we get it. You should get in on the order because we’ll save if we do it in bulk. You can get