says healers are stupid and lazy. She’d never be willing to work with you.”
Donal’s mouth tightened. She sounded more and more like old Gil. How many times had he and Healer Quany needed to fix the incompetent banfasa’s mistakes? Or worse, see scarring that wouldn’t have happened if the banfasa had sent the shifter to a healer. “In that case, I hope Pete can find a different way to train her.”
While help would be nice, it was just as well that no banfasa had decided to live in Cold Creek.
Chapter Four
Cold Creek, North Cascades Territory - day after full moon
Cold Creek was a charming town, Margery decided as she stopped on Main Street’s center island.
With a relieved sigh, she sat on one of the wood-and-iron benches to give her aching ankle a rest. Touring a town on foot was hard work.
Earlier, in the B&B, the owner, Rebecca, had served a great breakfast and lingered to gossip with Heather. The dining room had been filled with shifters who’d come to Cold Creek for the Gathering. Heather knew most of them and had introduced Margery before leaving for her mother’s Elder Village. They’d all been so welcoming.
As Margery walked around downtown, the people she passed greeted her with nods and smiles. It was so different from Ailill Ridge.
Looking around, she smiled. Rather than being all concrete and buildings, the downtown had tall shade trees, antique streetlights, and benches everywhere. Flower beds on the island and sidewalk planters were bright with yellow daffodils and pink hyacinths.
The town was…pretty.
“I want to stay here,” Margery murmured.
Could she? Pete would be angry, but in the note she left, she hadn’t said where she was going. Just that she wouldn’t be back. Even if he knew she was here, what could he do? Surely Cosantirs didn’t chase down shifters who left their territory.
Okay, then.
Step one: Find a job. Not as a banfasa, even if that was where her experience and talents lay. She wouldn’t venture into that trap again—not until she found out if Rainier Territory’s treatment of her was normal or not. No, she’d do something else for a job. She was good with people, and really, anything that let her work with others would make her happy.
Anticipation filled her until her blood felt as if it was zinging in her veins. Rising, she headed for the first place Rebecca had mentioned.
Yes, the sign was there. Pushing open the door to Angie’s Diner, she walked in. Gleaming wooden floors and chairs, blue checked tablecloths, and wooden ceiling fans created a welcoming atmosphere. A couple of customers were drinking coffee and eating pastries.
A middle-aged blonde woman stood behind a glass-fronted display and counter on the left. “Hi there. Take a seat anywhere.”
“Um…” Catching the scent of the wild, Margery realized the female was a shifter. She straightened her shoulders. “Actually, I’m not here to eat. I saw the Part-time Help Wanted sign in your window.”
“You’re Daonain.” The female gave Margery a slow scrutiny, before smiling. “I heard a Dogwood villager was at the Gathering last night—one of the captives.”
Margery tried not to tense. Was being an ex-captive good or bad? “That would be me.”
“Do you drink coffee?”
Margery blinked at the way the conversation had veered. “Uh, yes?”
“Well, then, let’s talk. I’m Angie O’Neal, by the way.”
“Margery Lavelle.”
Picking up two cups and a pot, Angie led the way to a table in the corner. As Margery sat, the female poured the coffee and handed over a cup. “Where have you been living this winter?”
“In Ailill Ridge.”
Lifted blonde brows asked for more. For why she was leaving.
Anxiety set up a twisting ache in Margery’s gut. She didn’t want to present herself as a pitiful survivor of abuse who’d been taken advantage of by a town. That wasn’t how she wanted to see herself either. Her tone needed to be relaxed when speaking about the past months.
“Yes. In Rainier Territory.” She sat back in her chair. “I learned a lot from living there, but I’m ready for a change. Heather recommended Cold Creek.”
“Heather Sutharlan? She brought you to the Gathering last night?”
Margery nodded, hearing the pleasant change in the diner owner’s voice. Heather was known here—and liked.
“In that case, have you ever waited tables before?”
“No, ma’am. But I learn quickly, and I get on well with people.” Usually. Except for some of the Ailill Ridge shifters who turned every interaction into predator versus prey. By the Goddess, no matter what the mangy wolves thought, she wasn’t prey.