Keeper of the Light

“Paul Macelli,” Paul said.

Alec touched the second woman on the shoulder. “And this is Karen.”

“He was broadsided,” Karen said. “The guy who hit him—with a Mercedes, no less—said the colt flipped up on the hood of the car and broke the windshield. He’s got a right good gash on his left hindquarter.”

Alec looked toward the horse. “Okay, fella,” he said quietly, “let’s see you walk.”

The four of them stood waiting for some movement from the colt, but he seemed frozen in one spot. He lifted his head to look across the road, where a group of horses milled skittishly in the darkness, the light from the beacon brushing over them every few seconds. They were huge, Paul thought with a shudder. Menacing. He remembered Annie warning him to steer clear of them. “They’re wild,” she’d said. “They can be nasty.”

Finally, the colt took a few tentative steps, obviously favoring his left front leg. Then he stood still, alone in the woods, neighing—crying, really—a sound that hurt to listen to.

Alec took the shotgun from Paul’s hand and gave him the flashlight. “Could you hold the light down here, Paul?” he asked as he knelt down to load the gun with something he took from the chest. Then he stood up. “Hold the light on him,” he said, and Paul and the women trained the beams of their flashlights on the animal’s bloody hindquarters as Alec moved quietly toward him.

Paul glanced over his shoulder at the enormous horses just across the road from where they stood. He felt somehow more exposed without Alec next to him.

Alec lifted the shotgun slowly to his shoulder and fired. The colt bucked and let out a cry. There was an answering whinny from the other side of the road, and Julie and Karen looked over at the herd.

“I’d better keep an eye on them,” Karen said, walking back toward the road. “You two can help Alec.”

There was not much to do as they waited for the tranquilizer to take effect. The three of them stood abreast, watching the frightened little colt stare back at them.

“How are you, Alec?” Julie broke the silence after a minute or two. Her question sounded loaded, one of those simple questions that took on greater meaning between old friends.

“I’m all right,” Alec said. “Hanging in there.”

After another few minutes of silence, the colt dropped abruptly to his knees, then rolled over on his side.

Alec lifted the tool chest. “Let’s see what we’ve got,” he said, as they started walking toward him.

Julie sat on the ground and pulled the colt’s head into her lap, while Paul stood above them, holding the flashlight so that Alec could see what he was doing. He glanced nervously toward the road. How was Karen going to hold those horses back if they decided to protect one of their own?

Alec ran his hands carefully over the colt’s legs, spending a long time on the leg the colt had favored. “Amazing,” he said. “Nothing’s broken. He’s going to be sore for a while, though.” He moved his hands slowly over the trunk of the horse. “No broken ribs. Hopefully no internal injuries, either. Looks like this is the worst problem.” He turned his attention to the gash. “Come a little closer with the light, Paul.”

Paul glanced across the road and reluctantly dropped to his knees. He was defenseless now. If the horses decided to stampede, the three of them were doomed.

He trained the light on the ugly wound. It was deep, and easily eight inches long. Alec washed it with a solution he took from his tool box.

“Do you have to stitch it?” Paul asked.

Alec nodded. “If it were winter, I’d let it go, but with this heat the flies are sure to get to it if I don’t.”

Paul wasn’t certain he could watch this. He hadn’t known what he was agreeing to when he’d told Alec he wasn’t squeamish.

Alec rooted around in the tool chest for another minute. Then he took the flashlight from Paul and handed it to Julie. “You’ll need to hold the edges of the wound together for me, Paul, okay?”

“Uh. You’ll have to show me how.”

Alec demonstrated, and Paul followed his example, wincing as Alec began to stitch.

“How’s your baby doing, Jule?” Alec asked, keeping his eyes on his work.

“She’s not a baby anymore,” Julie said, “which goes to show how long you’ve been out of circulation. She’s a hellion. Into everything.”

Julie talked about the little restaurant she managed, and Alec talked about Clay going off to college in another month. Paul listened to their easy conversation, their comfort with one another. Alec’s voice was so calm, so assured, despite the work he was doing on the colt, that Paul nearly forgot about the horses across the road.

“I wasn’t sure I should call you,” Julie said, after a brief silence. “I know you haven’t been working lately.”

“I’m glad you did,” Alec said.

“Well, I thought twice about it, I can tell you that. But there just isn’t anyone else I’d trust with one of these guys.” Alec glanced up at her with a smile. “This one’s going to make it, Jule.”

There was a silence as Alec continued his stitching. Paul moved his fingers along the edges of the wound to keep pace with him. The tension had left his body. The horses across the road seemed harmless as long as Alec was close by. For the first time he thought he understood. There was nothing mysterious about Annie leaving him for Alec. There had been no ulterior motive on her part, no hidden agenda, no succumbing to the demands of her parents. He could imagine her with Alec—Annie with her need to feel loved and cherished, safe and secure. Alec would have met those needs without even trying.

The pulsing light of the beacon seemed to slow, lingering on Alec’s hand for several seconds before melting back into the darkness. Then his hands stilled, suddenly, the needle poised above the wound, and Paul looked up to find Alec staring at him.