The Fault In Reality

Chapter Seventeen

"Poor fella, he's in pretty bad shape."

The vet stands with one hip cocked, assessing Devany's condition.

"But he'll be OK, won't he?" I ask.

Dr. Leigh gives me a weary smile and nods.

"He should be fine. I'd like to give him a few shots, though, just to be on the safe side. That gash on his knee might get infected otherwise."

"Right. That might be a bit of problem."

"I'm not going to lie, he seems like a changed horse from the bronco I last came to see, but I think we can all agree there's no way he's letting me anywhere near him with a needle in my hands."

I frown. I don't like the direction this is headed.

"You can't possibly be suggesting..." I trail off doubtfully, looking from Devany to the vet.

She shrugs.

"It's not hard, really," she says, "just a simple little injection is all."

I suppress a shudder; I've never liked needles. Something about the idea of metal piercing flesh rattles me.

Then, to my good fortune, Pat enters the scene. She takes in the situation with a single sweep of her intelligent, calculating eyes. I note the color has returned to her cheeks, and she looks far better than she did in the truck. Still, a sharpness lingers around her, different from the easy roundness of her usual movements.

Dr. Leigh begins to show me how to hold the needle, how to press the plunger down to the correct line, how to find the sweet spot on a horse's neck, how to angle the shaft at the perfect angle.

All this makes me feel a little dizzy. I try to focus but eventually the small knot in my stomach unravels into full fledged nausea, until my fingers won't stop shaking.

Pat steps in, then, and takes the needle from my hands. She and Dr. Leigh murmur something I'm too disoriented to hear, then she sends me out to Devany in a collected voice.

I obey without question, relieved to feel Devany's coat against my tingling fingers. I hold him gently by the halter, rubbing his nose and whispering sweet nothings.

Pat comes, the needle full of a strangely smelling liquid. Her quiet hands make quick work of Devany's nerves, and I smooth any remaining hesitation under my kneading fingers. Devany settles with a final snort, and Pat glides forwards.

To my surprise, Devany seems to recognize her. There's only a half-hearted skitter to the side before the needle is plunged smoothly into Devany's neck, and Pat steps away with an empty syringe.

I let out a breath I don't realize I was holding. My fingers slowly unclench from Devany's halter, and the great black horse offers me a confused nicker before returning to his hay.

"You certainly made that look easy," remarks Dr. Leigh from the rail, "but it took me a good half hour to even get near him. You've got a real way with horses, Era, and Pat - if my memory serves me well your talents extend to all kinds of furry critters. Wasn't it you who helped with the coyote incident a while back?"

Pat ducks her head modestly, but it doesn't stop me from catching the smile on her face. I can feel a similar one on my lips, actually. The vet's words warm my heart.

A real way with horses.

For a second the words replay in my head. For one delicious moment, I imagine myself helping other horses like Devany. Then the thoughts are whisked away by reality of both past and present, and I feel a weight settle back onto my chest.