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

grabbing the pitchfork from Bay. “Move over there with Sam, Clove and Thistle. Marcus and I will check out the office.”
    Bay, her face white, shook her head. “What if he hurts you?”
    “It’s going to be fine, sweetie,” Landon said, brushing a quick kiss against her forehead before pushing her toward Sam. “I’m trained for this.”
    “Then you should do it alone and leave Marcus with me,” Thistle interjected.
    “Yeah, that’s not going to happen,” I said, cupping Thistle’s chin and giving her a light kiss. “Go over there with your cousins.”
    Thistle didn’t look thrilled with the suggestion, but she followed my instructions and shuffled to Bay’s side.
    Landon reached inside the office, feeling around on the wall for a light switch. “Are you ready?”
    “Let’s do this.”
    Landon flicked the switch and the overhead lights in the small office flashed on. I steeled myself for action and found … absolutely nothing.
    “Well, do you see him?” Thistle asked.
    “The office is empty,” Landon replied, striding toward the open window and scanning the field behind the stable. “He must have hopped out the window.”
    “There’s more blood,” I said, pointing toward a spot near the corner. “He must be seriously hurt.”
    “I don’t know what to do,” Landon admitted. “He clearly needs help, but he’s acting like a criminal and is hiding from law enforcement for a reason.”
    “Maybe we should get dogs out here,” Sam suggested. “They should be able to track him.”
    “I don’t know anyone willing to send dogs out here for a guy stealing pies, especially on a holiday weekend,” Landon said, extending his hand so Bay would take it and then pulling her close. I jumped when Thistle appeared next to me and wrapped her arms around my waist. “I think you and Thistle should spend the night at the guesthouse, Marcus. Don’t risk staying here again.”
    “What about the animals?”
    “He doesn’t appear interested in the animals,” Landon said. “I think he’s just looking for a place to sleep.”
    “Should I let him sleep here?”
    Landon shrugged. “I have no idea. I don’t know what to think.”

Eight
    “ W hat are you doing ?”
    Landon found me sitting on the side patio of the guesthouse the next morning, my feet bare as I studied my injured toe under the bright sunshine.
    “I’m trying to decide whether I have sepsis,” I admitted, flashing a sheepish smile. “That stuff Sam said about organ failure kind of freaked me out.”
    I thought Landon would make fun of me. Instead he was all business as he sat on the paver stones and leaned forward. “Let me see.”
    He was gentle as he reached over and touched my toe. It was bruised and sore, but it didn’t look particularly life threatening.
    “Do you think it’s going to fall off?” I asked, offering a lame chuckle. “Do you think my organs will fail?”
    “I think you stubbed your toe and it looks sore,” Landon replied. “There’s no broken skin, though. Sam also said it generally starts with a bacterial infection. I don’t think you have that problem because there’s no open wound.”
    “That’s good,” I said, relieved. “Were you surprised he knew all that stuff?”
    “Bay makes me watch home renovation shows and I now know more about putting ceramic tile in bathrooms than I ever would’ve imagined,” Landon replied. “I have to keep reminding myself that he’s smarter than I give him credit for.”
    “He lied when he came to town,” I said. “I can see being leery.”
    “Yes, but he’s proved himself in multiple ways since then – including getting shot while trying to save Bay,” Landon said. “He deserves a clean slate.”
    “Plus, he makes Clove really happy.”
    “There is that,” Landon agreed. “I worry about Clove because she seems somehow … needier … than the other two. Sam seems to understand that, and gives her what she needs to feel secure.”
    “I worry about Clove