Following the posted signs and the sounds of people, Margery walked around the side of the Wildwood Lodge to the back patio.
Bree had said that every other Sunday during the warm season, the lodge held barbecues, open to their guests and the town. Today was special since it was Beltane—or what the humans called May Day. If the fire festival day had arrived closer to full moon, the Cosantir would’ve celebrated during the Gathering, but this year, Beltane fell near the new moon.
She smiled at the bright red tulips in a bed by the side of the lodge. Farther out in a sunny patch, apple trees bloomed, casting a heady scent. Beneath them, wild strawberries showed off their white blossoms.
Under a vine-covered arch, a middle-aged female served as the lodge’s gatekeeper. Spotting Margery, she motioned her forward and said in a rough voice, “You’re the new one in town. Angie’s waitress, right?”
Small towns were so fun. Introductions were almost unneeded. “That’s right. I’m Margery.”
“Rosie. I work at the Wild Hunt. Next time you’re in there, I’ll buy you a beer. Us waitresses have to stick together.”
Margery grinned. “We do.”
“Go on in—and be warned, Breanne’s drafting people to help.”
“I’m up for that.” A quick sniff said Rosie was a shifter. “It’s an honor to serve an alpha like her.”
“That’s the spirit.” Rosie gave an approving nod. “Bright Beltane to you.”
“And you.” Feeling thoroughly welcomed—and betting that Rosie and Angie were good friends—Margery walked past and stopped to get her bearings. Because…people.
Whew. She hadn’t been expecting such a large party.
Along the back wall of the lodge, long tables held a wealth of food, from appetizers to desserts. Nearer at hand, Shay was turning steaks and burgers on a huge grill. A closed grill gave off the fragrance of smoked barbecue.
Across the wide patio, people at tables were eating, playing board games, and socializing. On the grassy area between the patio and the stream, cubs were playing soccer.
A darling small playground had a batch of kits swinging and bouncing and climbing. So cute.
“Margery, I’m glad you came.” Blonde hair pulled back in a long braid, Bree hurried up and gave her a one-armed hug before stepping back to study her face. “Shay told me about the trick Tynan pulled on you at the tavern last week. Zeb said you cried. Are you all right?”
The alpha female’s concern warmed Margery’s heart. “I’m fine. Really.”
Bree’s eyes narrowed. “Tynan can be damn intimidating when he goes all authoritarian. But you’re fine.”
“Really, I am.” Although Bree had a point. The commanding cop was daunting. Scary.
And disconcertingly captivating. How could someone make her anxious, yet melt her insides at the same time? Every night since then, she’d dreamed of being in the circle of his hard arms, her cheek pressed against his muscular chest. What if he hadn’t been trying to comfort her, but to do something else? Something…intimate?
Oh, wow.
Shaking off the unexpected carnal thoughts, she tucked her hair behind her ear. “On Friday, Tynan took me for another run and explained why he pushed me. He said if I panicked at seeing a uniform—and shifted in front of humans—it could be deadly.”
Breanne’s expression went tight. “He’s right. Revealing our existence is a death sentence. I almost broke that Law when I was a new shifter, and Zeb, Shay, and I came close to being terminated.”
Gods, that sounded bad.
Margery puffed out a breath. “So, Tynan was right, and honestly, his intervention and explanation helped. Yesterday, I walked past the sheriff’s office a bunch of times and worked on my reaction to seeing Alec and his deputy in uniforms.”
There was nothing like half-panicking, over and over. However, after a few trips, she’d started to relax.
“Good for you.” Responding to a greeting from across the patio, Bree smiled, started to wave, and winced.
“You’re hurt.”
“No. Well, maybe a little.” Bree scowled at her left arm. “I chased a wood rat and caught my foreleg between a couple of rocks. I think my wrist is a bit sprained, nothing worse.”
Margery held her hand out. “Let’s see.”
The joint was swollen, slightly warm, no obvious break. “The healer would be able to mend it right up.”
The ever-so-gorgeous healer who didn’t like her.
Bree grinned. “You sound like Zeb. Donal’s helping at a birth, but he’ll be here later.”
No, Margery’s pulse did not just pick up. She didn’t want to see that grumpy, bull-headed male. “Until then, how about if I wrap it and put your arm in a sling to remind you not to use it.”
“That’d be great. I keep trying to pick up pans and embarrass myself when I yelp.”
After raiding the lodge’s medical supplies, Margery settled Bree in a quiet corner of the kitchen and tended the injury. After the sling was on, she finished by settling an ice pack on top of the ace-wrapped wrist.
“That feels a lot better.” Bree smiled as she rose. “It’d really started to ache.”
“Because you kept using it.” Margery glanced around the busy kitchen. “What’s my assignment? Angie said the pack was helping out.”
“We had no idea quite so many people would show up today. Thank the Goddess for the pack’s help.” Bree gave the kitchen an assessing look. “Can you take a pitcher of iced tea and refill drinks?”
“Absolutely.” Margery grinned. “Waitressing has turned into one of my favorite things. It’s such a great way to meet everyone.”
“Thank you. And thank you, banfasa, for the tending.” Bree patted the sling.
At Bree’s gratitude, Margery felt as if the sun had grown brighter.
She pulled in a breath as the realization shook her. Being a banfasa was who she was. What she loved. Nothing, not even waitressing, fulfilled her quite the same way, and…face it, she missed it.
Two hours later, Margery joined three other pack females to eat.
Although eat was perhaps not the right word—she almost inhaled the food. “This barbecued pork is…I’ve never had anything so good.”
Bonnie, who was a dispatcher in the sheriff’s office, laughed. “You can thank Alec for that. He fostered in the south and talked one of his uncles out of the recipe.”
“Did I hear my name?” The relaxed masculine voice had them all turning.
Huge male—wearing a badge, firearm, baton, uniform.
Margery froze, her hands closing on her fork, ready to…
He wasn’t moving. In fact, he was holding perfectly still. Her gaze lifted to his face, to the sympathy in the dark green eyes.
Oops. She breathed out and set the weapon down. “Hi, Sheriff.”
She’d seen him at the station and strolling the streets off and on yesterday. One more breath, and she could lean back. Her muscles relaxed. Thank the Goddess for Tynan and his shock therapy. “Bonnie says we have you to thank for this amazing barbecue.”
“I merely persuaded the recipe out of my uncle. Shay did the actual cooking.” Alec grinned. “I far prefer talking to cooking.”