Had we not gone into town that day, it might have never happened. We might not have become aware, my roommate Sarah and I, of the wondrous being in our midst. And it was someone we knew, too; that was the odd part. The part that made the story harder to believe, even knowing what we came to understand, was that the world was not as we had always imagined it to be. But I am being vague, and that is not my goal, which is to tell you the story of how I met Sam, and how we came to be together. The facts of his later disappearance are well-known and well-documented, so I won’t go into them here, at least not now.

Sarah and I were living in the town of Andover, MA at the time when we first met Dr. Sam Winston. His veterinarian offices were on Elm St near the old location of the Andover Townsman newspaper where he was easy to find and convenient for the people who lived near the center of town. He was extremely good with animals, and when I took our aging tabby in for her shots, Sam looked at me sideways and blinked his large brown eyes at me contemplatively.

“Miss Laura, this is one of the happiest cats I have had the pleasure to meet in a long time,” he said in a long drawl that was not Texan but not Southern either. “You and your roommate must take real good care of her.”

“Sarah and I have had her since college,” I said, smiling. “Sorna is a great cat.”

“I am glad to hear it,” smiled the vet, “I will be right back with her shots. Sit tight a minute.”

When he had left the room, I let my glance run over the diplomas on the walls and noted that the vast majority were from the University of Montana. That explained the drawl, if not why he had come all the way out here. He returned then, gave Sorna the shots, and we left after thanking him.

Sarah and I saw him around town often enough, and he always made it a point to stop and ask me about Sorna. He was polite to Sarah, but I thought he took on a special twinkle whenever we spoke. I even managed to catch him at the local coffee shop one day when we were both on lunch break, and he invited me to sit to chat for a while. It was one of the more pleasant experiences I had had in a while, and when we parted, I felt like I really wanted to get to know him more.

At that time, we were having a regular social night every Monday at our apartment, and one day, I got up the nerve to ask Sam (we had gotten to first name basis by that time) if he would like to come over to the house for our weekly coffee night. He accepted, much to my delight, and became one of the regulars, bringing chips or pizza when he came. Other friends brought beer, or wine, but Sam never drank, preferring to stick to his spring water.

We had known him about three years when it happened, the incident to change everything. It was an early June, and Sarah and I were both off for the day. We heard a loud commotion outside of the café where we were having Friday lunch. Both of us rushed outside just in time to see a bright chestnut horse go rushing past, its hooves clattering on the pavement, its ruddy coat shining in the sun. I gasped at the beauty of the animal and watched as it turned the corner, almost slipping on the slick concrete pavers, then righted itself again to disappear around the corner. A group of policemen also rushed past, taking the corner much better than the animal had.

“Sarah, go get Sam!” I yelled, and dashed off in the opposite direction, having a good idea of where the horse might be heading. I got to the corner by the town park, and paused for a few minutes, which gave Sarah a chance to catch up with me.

“He wasn’t in the office,” she said, breathing hard. “His receptionist said he had gone out to lunch.”

“It figures,” I sighed, and then caught a flash of copper pass between two buildings up ahead, close to the bowling alley. “Sarah, I saw the horse! Come on!”

We ran down the block to where the horse had been and found that we were alone in the alleyway behind the bowling alley. There was no real way out; the alley wove around behind the buildings and eventually came to a blind dead end behind the old laundry. Sarah and I walked carefully down the alley, ready to leap out of the way if we had to in order to get out of the way if the horse returned at speed. There was no sign of the animal, and we crept around corners until we came to the cul-de-sac at the end of the alley system. We peered around to see the copper colored horse standing with its head down, breathing hard. Neither of us moved, but as I continued to watch, I took in the details.

The horse was a stallion, about fifteen hands high or almost five feet at the shoulder, not huge, but not small either. It had a matching flaxen mane and tail and had a small stripe on its face, with no other white markings. Its hooves were tan colored, and solidly built. To my semi-trained eye, it looked a lot like a Morgan, but seemed to have a little something else that gave its hind quarters some real power, maybe a Quarter Horse somewhere a few generations before. Its coat was glossy, and the animal seemed in good health…

I stopped in mid thought as the horse began to blur before my eyes, and the shape began to change. The blur became a man, and before I knew it, there, standing before us in the nude, was Dr. Sam Winston. He began to look under an overturned lid and brought out a bundle of clothes that he began to don.

Sarah and I stood for about a half second with our mouths hanging open and looking stupid before I had the presence of mind to drag her back down the alleyway as quietly as we could go. We got back out by the bowling alley and secreted ourselves somewhere we could watch the alley. Sure enough, Sam came out, fully dressed, and walked swiftly past our hiding place, apparently heading back towards his office. Sarah and I sat down on a bench nearby and looked at each other.

“Well,” I said finally, “that clears up the mystery of where our good doctor gets his empathy with animals.”

“To put it mildly,” said Sarah, “What do we do now?”

“Well, we don’t say anything right now,” I said, “But I will go see him after work tonight, and talk to him.”

“Are you so sure that that is a good idea?”

“Sarah, he is a were-horse, not a werewolf. Besides, this is Sam we are talking about, you know? Do you really think that Sam, of all people, would hurt anyone?”

“No, “she sighed. “I’ll go too.”

That evening, we waited patiently in the reception area as closing time came. The receptionist, Sally, knew us well and shooed us back to Sam’s office to wait for him while he finished up with the animals. We sat nervously and waited, listening to the closing noises. Sam poked his head in to tell us he would be a few more minutes, and then we waited again, both of us anxious and unsure how best to approach the subject. We knew that we were not crazy and had seen what we had seen, but how to ask our friend such a pointed question escaped both of us.

A few minutes later, we heard Sally call out a good night as she left, and Sam himself entered the room. I looked up at my friend and found myself thinking not for the first time that day that our friendship was about to change forever.

“So, guys, what is up with you two today? You look serious” Sam sat down behind his desk, and leaned back, obviously at ease in our company. I sighed, looked at Sarah, and plunged in.

“We saw a pretty unusual thing today, Sam,” I said. “There was a horse loose in the middle of town today.”

Sam sat up slowly in his chair, no longer looking so at ease.

“Yes,” he said carefully, “I heard about it from a number of people.”

“Well,” I said, and swallowed nervously, “we, um, followed it down in back of the bowling alley.”

“I see,” said Sam, quietly. “And you saw…”

“We saw you,” said Sarah, “Or rather, we saw the horse become you.”

Sam said nothing, and simply stared at us, becoming white under his usual tan.

“What do you want?” he said in a strained voice, “Do you want money? Or do you plan to turn me in for public display?”

“Oh, Sam!” I said in dismay. “I would think that you know us better than that! We just wanted to know what was going on. I mean, I can understand why you never told us and all, but now that we know, can’t you tell us?”

Sam blinked, looking warily from one of us to the other.

“I have never had to share this secret before, not with outsiders,” he said slowly. “Not in this situation anyway.”

He paused, looking at us earnestly, emotions warring across his face. Finally, he sighed and nodded to himself.

“My family comes from Montana, as you know, but it is more than that. We are a herd, several family groups banded together. We run a big ranch, raise cattle, the usual, and with that much open space, no one questions horses running all over the property. I didn’t want to stay, though. I felt the need to see more, so I went to the college, got my vet degree there, and decided to see what the East Coast had to offer. My people warned me that someday it might happen, that the shift might come on me mostly unawares, so I did take the precautions of hiding clothes in a couple of secluded areas in case. Then this happened, blessedly in private. You see, if you don’t shift often enough, the horse nature will get loose, and then you have to deal with it. I forgot that, I guess.”

“So you are a were-horse?” Sarah asked, trying not to giggle.

“Something like that, yes,” said Sam, relaxing marginally. “We are not tied to the moon, so much as the seasons. Certain times, certain tides affect us and we get the need to run. If we deny that part of ourselves, well, today was the result.”

“And you haven’t told anyone outside your clan?” I asked.

“I tried to tell my girlfriend in college. She didn’t believe me, and I could not bring myself to show her. We broke up, and I have not had anyone to share it with since. I have wanted to tell you, Laura, and you too, Sarah, but I just could not bring myself to. My clan stressed that secrecy is necessary for survival. I am grateful, however, that you two were the ones to find out, and not someone else.”

“So now what?” I asked.

“Now, I take a look at my life here, and try to figure out how I can make sure that this doesn’t happen again. I mean, I can’t not change, but it is harder here than I thought to find time alone, and horses really don’t wander around on their own in Andover, do they?”

“What if we could help you?” I asked, suddenly. “One of us could be with you when you go for walks or runs, act as your rider, I guess. Or something,” I finished lamely.

“Do you retain your human mind when you…transform?” asked Sarah shyly.

“Yes, I am fully aware of who I am,” said Sam, peering at us. “You ladies would do that for me?”

“Aren’t we friends?” I asked. “Of course.”

“Neither of us can ride, though,” said Sarah. “And I hate to admit it, but I have always been a little bit afraid of horses, Sam. No offense, but they are so big.”

“Well, I think we could manage not to have to have you actually ride me, Sarah,” said Sam. “To be honest, I am not sure how I feel about that myself. I have never borne a rider on my back before. I mean, I carried my cousin Tim when he was four and had broken his arm, but that is different.”

Sarah nodded and glanced at her watch.

“I have to run for now to get dinner started,” she said hurriedly. “Why don’t you come over tonight, and we can talk more then?”

“Sure,” said Sam, “Laura, do you have to go too?”

“I could stay a few minutes more and then walk over with you, I guess,” I said. “Sarah, do you mind if I hang out here a few more.”

“Not at all,” said Sarah. “I will make enough for three then. We may have a long night ahead of us.”

She got up and let herself out of the office, leaving Sam and I alone.

“Well,” I said, “this is awkward.”

“Yes,” said Sam, and looked at me oddly for a few minutes

“What?” I asked.

“Do you think that this is going to change things horribly between us?” he blurted, and I suddenly saw past Sam’s calm exterior for the first time. There was some real fear there, that much I could sense from him, and he wasn’t sure if he had made the right choice in being so open with us.

“Why do you think it will do that?” I asked, “You are still Sam, right? Same guy I beat at poker almost every coffee night?”

“True,” he said, “but I am not exactly the same species, really. That doesn’t bother you?”

“No, Sam, it doesn’t. You are my friend, remember?”

“But I am…not human,” said Sam, hesitantly.

“And…?”

Sam looked at me, and sighed.

“Ok, so it doesn’t matter to you that I can become a horse at will, or that that blood running through my veins is genetically different from yours in some very odd ways?” he said.

“No, not really,” I said. “Should it?”

“In a sane world, no,” he said, turning to put away a few last files and standing. He turned back to me and said hesitantly, “Is there anything you want to ask me?’

“Actually, I would like to see you as a horse close up,” I said truthfully, “but I can wait on that until you are comfortable with the idea.”

Sam shifted uneasily, and gave me another odd look.

“I want to trust you, Laura, I really do,” he said, staring at his desk, “and that also scares me, because if I show you, and it damages our friendship, I will never forgive myself. I like you too much to lose what we do have. And, well…I’d like to get to know you in more than as just a friend. That is, if this hasn’t ruined my chances.”

Sam had turned a shade of bright red as he began this last, and he looked up at me hesitantly. I felt myself blushing and stepped back to cover my confusion, knocking over the mug on his desk that held his pens and pencils in the process. Sam jumped around me to catch it and set it gently back on the desk. The pens had fallen out onto the floor, and busied ourselves for a few minutes picking them up. We found ourselves in an awkward silence then, and I sighed.

“No, I hasn’t, and I can’t say that I haven’t wondered that as well,” I said. “At least I already know the biggest obstacle we’d have stumbled over eventually, so that makes it easier, right?”

Sam sat in his chair and just looked at me for a moment.

“You are taking this awfully well,” he said finally.

“Would you rather I screamed and flipped out on you?”

“No, no. You just seem so…calm.”

“Is that wrong?”

“No.”

Another awkward silence descended, and this time he sighed.

“We should go see if Sarah has dinner going,” he said. “And then we have some talking to do.”

“Right,” I said, moving towards the office door.

“Laura?”

I turned and saw that Sam was struggling to say something. I waited for him to gather himself, trying to project a calm that I was not feeling.

“I want to show you,” he said finally. “After dinner, maybe? I am not sure about Sarah just yet, but you…well, I want there to be truth between us. If we can handle that, then maybe I am not so crazy to think we might…well, we’ll see.”

He turned off the light over the desk, and we left his office, walking in thoughtful silence all the way to the apartment I shared with Sarah. I let my thoughts do their own rambling as we walked, and I kept stealing glances at Sam as we went along. He was very handsome, and I had wanted something to happen that might bring these feelings I had been having out in the open for a long time. Trouble was, this was not the way I had thought it might happen. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Sam sneaking worried glances in my direction as well, and I could only imagine the thoughts going through his head at that moment.