Witchdependence Day: A Wicked Witches of the Midwest Short (Wicked Witches of the Midwest Shorts Book 8)

C
opyright
© 2016 by Amanda Lee

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“
I
s that a horse
?”

I stopped what I was doing and shifted my gaze to the small boy hovering by Marigold’s stall. He looked to be about eight, but short for his age. I had no idea how he found his way into the stable on his own.

“That is a horse,” I confirmed, fighting the urge to laugh as the kid eyed the majestic animal with unveiled suspicion. “That’s what we usually keep in a stable.”

The kid didn’t look impressed. “Does it do anything?”

“Like what?”

The boy shrugged, the sunlight filtering in through the high barn window glinting off his blond head. “I don’t know. Can it do tricks?”

“Like fetching a ball?”

The boy enthusiastically nodded. “My dog Skippy can do that.”

“Horses don’t generally fetch balls,” I explained, enjoying the kid’s attitude despite the faces he made. “Marigold is very smart, though. She knows all the trails without having to be led. I don’t know many dogs around here that can do that.”

The boy wrinkled his nose. “She would be cooler if she could fetch,” he said. “I don’t like the name Marigold either. She should have a better name.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what?”

The boy tapped his bottom lip as he considered the question. “Wonder Woman.”

I couldn’t help but snicker. “I’ll take it under advisement,” I said. “Where are you supposed to be? I don’t recognize you. Do you belong to someone here in town?”

It was summer in Hemlock Cove, which meant the student population was free to wreak havoc. Still, I’d been around town long enough to recognize most of the regulars. Ever since Hemlock Cove rebranded itself as a magical destination a few years ago, tourism had exploded. That meant quite a few people traipsed in and out of town, and many of them brought their children.

“I live in Tawas,” the boy said. “I’m Brett, by the way.”

I extended my hand. “I’m Marcus Richmond. I own the stable.”

Brett eyed my hand, suspicious. “You’re not a pervert, are you?”

I worked overtime to swallow my laugh. Kids have no filters, which is what I like about them. Funnily enough, I’m also partial to adults who lack a filter. That’s probably why I fell in love with a foul-mouthed witch with impulse control issues. I guess you could say I’m a glutton for punishment.

“Not last time I checked,” I replied dryly, curious to see whether the boy would shake my hand or leave. Finally he extended his hand, his grip hesitant. “It’s nice to meet you, Brett.”

“I’ve never seen horses anywhere but at the carnival, and then they just walk around in a circle so the little kids can ride them,” Brett said. “Can I ride this horse?”

“Marigold loves going for rides,” I replied. “If you bring your parents here and they say it’s okay, I’m sure she would gladly give you a ride through the forest.”

For the first time since entering the barn, Brett looked excited. “Can I call her Wonder Woman?”

“Sure.”

“Can she jump me over a big tree?”

“Probably not,” I answered, opting for honesty. “She’s a big animal and you’re a small boy. You’re safer just riding her to start.”

“That sounds boring,” the boy said, furrowing his brow as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I want to jump over the moon.”

I chuckled. Kids and their whims always amuse me. “Well, we’ll see what we can do,” I said. “Find your parents and ask them if you can go for a ride. They might want to go with you.”

“Blech.” Brett made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “If they want to go with me they’ll bring my sister. She’s a real butthead.”

I bit my lip and fought to keep my face neutral. “Is she younger than you, by any chance?”

Brett shook his head. “She’s older … and she never lets me forget it.”

“Sounds like a typical woman.”

I shifted my eyes to an approaching figure, grinning when I caught sight of Landon Michaels. An FBI agent, his home office was in nearby Traverse City. I’d gotten to know him quite well since we began sharing the same roof several nights a week. You see, we’re both in love with witches. I’m not being mean or rude. I’ve fallen in love with a legitimate witch named Thistle, and somehow the prickly name fits her personality. Landon is in love with her cousin Bay. The four of us spend more time together than apart now.

“How’s it going?” I asked, tamping down the urge to laugh at Landon’s face when he caught sight of Marigold doing her business in the stall. “Are you here for the weekend?”

“Oh, gross,” Brett squealed, covering his eyes. “She just did a number two.”

“You noticed that, huh?” Landon asked. “I thought I was the only one.”

“How could I not notice?” Brett asked. “It’s huge. It looks like an alien.”

“I never really thought about that, but I guess you’re right,” Landon said, patting the kid on the head. “You’re not Brett, are you?”

The boy wrenched his hand from his face and widened his eyes. “How did you know that?”

“I’m with the FBI,” Landon replied, puffing out his chest for comical effect. “I know everything.”

“He’s ‘The Man,’” I interjected, internally chuckling when I saw a dark look move over Landon’s angular features. “He has unique powers of observation.”

Brett remained unconvinced. “How did you really know?”

“Because your parents are outside calling for you,” Landon replied. “They’re starting to look a little worried. Did you sneak off when you weren’t supposed to?”

Brett graced Landon with a sheepish smile. “My sister said she was going to put gum in my hair if I didn’t shut up, and my parents took her side,” he explained. “I don’t want gum in my hair.”

“I think you wanted your parents to worry as some form of punishment for taking your sister’s side,” Landon countered. “That’s not very nice.”

“I … .” Brett looked caught.

“You should go out to them now,” Landon said. “Maybe if you apologize and mean it they’ll let you ride the horse.”

“Wonder Woman,” Brett supplied. “That’s her name.”

“It’s a good name,” Landon said. “Now, run along and put your parents out of their misery.”

Brett blew out a frustrated sigh. “Fine. My sister is still a butthead, though.”

“Most women are,” Landon said. “Eventually you’ll find one that’s not so bad, though.”

“My sister?”

“Not unless you’ve got issues no one ever needs to hear about,” Landon replied. “Ask your parents about a ride. I’ll bet they’ll agree to it.”

“Okay,” Brett said, hopping toward the door. “You should probably collect that poop alien and put it in a box, though. I know at least five girls in my class who would love to get that as a gift.”

“You’re kind of a sick little kid, aren’t you?” I asked, shaking my head hard enough that my shoulder-length blond hair brushed against the top of my shoulders. “That’s gross, man.”

Brett didn’t look particularly disturbed by the admonishment. “If girls don’t want to be grossed out they should stay away from boys.”

I laughed. “You’ll change your mind one day.”

“I doubt it.”

We watched Brett scamper out of the barn, making sure we could hear him call out to his father before turning our attention to each other.

“Do you remember being as gross as that little guy?” I asked.

“I grew up with two brothers,” Landon replied. “We were much grosser than that kid. Although, I have to be honest, I don’t think we ever considered wrapping up horse droppings and then gifting the box to unsuspecting girls in our neighborhood.”

“I’m thinking he’s never going to find someone to date him if he’s not careful,” I said. “What’s up with you? I thought you would be all over Bay right about now. Haven’t you two spent three whole days apart?”

Landon’s job kept him in Traverse City for the bulk of the workweek, although he often went out of his way to find an excuse to spend the night with Bay. When he wasn’t around I made sure to keep an eye on her. Mostly it was for his peace of mind, but in truth, Bay has a tendency to find trouble, and she often drags Thistle along for the ride. They’re a diabolical twosome, and now that they’re living together without a buffer, things are getting rough.

“Bay is putting the paper to bed for the week. She told me I was distracting her,” Landon replied. “She’s … in a mood.”

“I thought you liked her moods?”

“I like most of her moods, but she seems irritated today, and that’s not what I was looking forward to,” Landon said. “It’s a holiday weekend, which means I get extra time off. I was hoping for smiles and kisses.”

“Ooh, you’re such a woman,” I teased, although I got what he was saying. There’s something about fireworks and picnics that put me in the mood for alone time with my witch, too. “Are you guys going to the festival this weekend?”

“I was willing to bypass it, but Bay says it’s one of her favorite festivals of the year,” Landon said. “Personally, I think this town has too many festivals. They should have one in the summer and one in the fall. That’s it.”

“It’s a tourist town,” I reminded him. “The festivals mean big crowds and money. That’s why we have so many.”

“I know.” Landon tugged a restless hand through his long black hair. “I just had visions of a picnic basket, a bottle of wine and time alone with Bay. Now she’s talking about pie-baking contests, kissing booths, funhouses, games and corn dogs.”

“You usually love all of that stuff – especially the kissing booth.”

“I still love it,” Landon said. “Laugh all you want, but that kissing booth is awesome. Whoever thought of it is a genius. It’s just … I adore this family. I really do. I’m fond of every single one of them. Occasionally it would be nice to spend some time alone with Bay, though. I don’t understand why we have to do everything as a group.”

Bay and Thistle Winchester live in the guesthouse on their mothers’ property. Their cousin Clove used to live with them, but she moved out a few weeks ago to live with her boyfriend. The move was proving to be more of an adjustment than I initially envisioned thanks to the ensuing power struggle between two belligerent witches.

Their three mothers own The Overlook, one of Hemlock Cove’s most popular inns. They run it with the help of a recent town transplant named Belinda, who lives on the third floor with her daughter Annie, and the hindrance of their persnickety aunt, Tillie, who has more in common with a tornado than a typical senior citizen.

“It’s the Winchester way,” I said. “They can’t go through life without one another. I think you either get used to it or … .” Or what? I knew Landon was in it for the long haul. There really was no acceptable “or.”

“I’m just complaining,” Landon said. “Most of the time I enjoy the hijinks. It’s just hot … and I want some time alone with Bay.”

“Why can’t you spend time with the family and time alone with Bay, too?” I prodded. “Is there a reason you can only do one or the other? When I want time alone with Thistle we spend the night at my house.”

“Yes, but my house is in Traverse City,” Landon pointed out. “Bay is happy here. I love this town, too. I don’t want her traipsing over there for half the week.”

“Have you considered getting a place here in town?” I asked. “Heck, are you allowed to do that?”

“Not really,” Landon replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “I would have to apply for a special dispensation, and to do that I need to have documented proof of a relationship.”

I had no idea what that meant. “Can’t you just tell them you’re involved with Bay and want to be closer to her?”

“That’s not quite how it works,” Landon chuckled. “If we were married, it would be one thing.”

“Are you ready to get married?”

“Not quite yet.”

“So, what are your other options?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I’m not sure yet,” Landon said, shaking his head to dislodge whatever heavy thoughts weighed on him. “Don’t say anything to Thistle. I don’t want Bay getting worked up. We’ve had enough drama lately.”

He wasn’t exaggerating. About a week and a half ago, someone shot at Bay, Thistle and Clove while they were snooping in a senior citizen’s back yard. They watched in horrified disbelief as the woman fell dead at their feet. The cousins are known for finding trouble – especially Bay. I knew, given everything they’d recently gone through, Landon would be happy with a few weeks of peace before the next dramatic upheaval.

“You’ll figure it out,” I said finally. “Do you believe in destiny?”

Landon shrugged. “This is a weird conversation to be having with another dude.”

I snickered. “I get that,” I said. “I believe in destiny, though. I think it was my destiny to move back to Hemlock Cove after being away for several years. I also think it was my destiny to fall in love with Thistle.

“The question you have to ask yourself is whether you think Bay is your destiny,” I continued. “If you do, everything will happen the way it’s supposed to. I’m a firm believer in that.”

“You have an upbeat way of looking at life,” Landon said. “I wish I wasn’t such a downer all of the time.”

“I don’t think you’re a downer,” I clarified. “Your job is a lot harder than mine. You’ve seen some horrible things. Bay has, too. I still think you two were meant to find each other when you did.

“Think about it,” I pressed. “What are the odds you would run into each other at a corn maze? What are the odds that you would keep crossing paths with her while you were under cover? If it’s not destiny, you’d have to admit it’s an incredible set of coincidences.”

“I don’t know whether I believe in destiny the same way you do,” Landon said. “I do believe Bay is my heart, and I won’t let her go.”

“That sounded stalker-ish.”

“I know,” Landon said, flashing a rueful smile. “I didn’t mean it to sound that way. I don’t want to live my life without Bay. I’m not sure we’re ready to get married quite yet. I have faith things will work out, though. Until then, I’m happy with how my life is going.”

“Even though it’s going to be a weekend full of Winchester hijinks?”

“Maybe even partially because of it,” Landon conceded, glancing around the empty stable. “Do you need help with anything? I’m kind of on my own until Bay finishes up in an hour.”

“Oh, are you lost without your blonde?” I teased.