Heart-Shaped Horseshoes

“Dodge Junction,” Frederick Horseshoepin read out loud. “I´m surprised they even have a town sign.”

He took off a handkerchief and cleaned his forehead. The weather was unbearable for a Canterlot pony like him Every second he was under the sun was a torture for his coat and especially his hooves. As a talented musician, he couldn't risk his hooves getting sore or, Celestia forbides, scratched. Speaking of Celestia, Frederick couldn't be more grateful that the Princess always kept the sun at a tolerable point on the Capital City and the local weather never allowed for anything more or less than a thin layer of clouds. He couldn't wait to return to Canterlot and get a well deserved spa treatment but right now he had business to attended.

Business he wasn't happy at all to deal with. Somepony from the mail service with obviously the wrong Cutie Mark for the job had mixed up the addresses and sent a piano, his piano, down this Celestia forbidden corner of Equestria. Frederick trembled, imagining the damage that the dusty air was causing to the delicate instrument. He could only pray the local ponies had the common sense to keep it covered.

“Not such luck,” he said out loud when he found his piano in a corner of a ramshackle salt bar.

“Well, it´s you like ya said in your letter, mister,” a cute mare with a cowboy hat said, waving at the piano. “Your instrument arrived safe and sound at the station. Some crazy mix-up, ain´t it?

“This...this is a disaster!” Frederick shouted, grabbing his head in desperation. “How could you left it here in the open? You have any idea the damage this could cause to the strings or the pedals?”

“Woah Nelly, calm down now, msiter! Yah didn´t say anything like that in your letter. Just asked if we got yer contraption and yes, we do,” the mare replied.

“Oh, you settler ponies! I should have know you wouldn´t take proper care of such a delicate instrument…”

“Well, now what do yah mean with that, mister?”

“Haha, oh don´t get yerself so worked up, sweetie. Mr. Soft Hooves ´ere didn't mean anything by that,” a voice said from a table.

Frederick turned over to look at the pony, an earth brown coated stallion with a guitar Cutie Mark. He had been leaning on a chair, softly playing with his guitar. The sound was so quiet and in tune with the ambient that Frederick haven´t even noticed him before. He blushed a little, chastising for this failure as a musician.

“Well Meadow, it easy for you to not get worked up. It ain´t your establishment being insulted ´ere,” the mare replied.

Meadows simply shrugged and went back to his guitar.

“I need to take this piano back to Canterlot for a proper tuning. immediately,” Frederick said after he was done with his inspection. “Oh and I would need some strong ponies to carry it.”

The mare shrugged and turned over. “Train is leaving first hour in the morning. Ah bet yah can find a few oxs willing to help yah with that.”

“Wait a minute! You expect me to stay here all night?”

“Yah ain´t staying here fer sure, mister!” she replied, slamming the kitchen's door as she entered.

“Oh, the nerves! And what is exactly so funny, mister…”

“Meadow, partner.  Meadow Song, and music is my special talent,” the cowboy pony replied.

“I figured that much,” Frederick coldly said.

“Ah didn´t catch your full name, Mr. Soft Hooves.”

“My name is Frederick Horseshoepin, thank you very much. And I must add I do not appreciate that nickname.”

“Ah call them as I see them, Fred.”

“Do not call me Fred either.”

Meadows called for peace, raising his hooves and went back to his guitar. Frederick snorted, a typical Canterlot gesture and got back to his piano. He would never admitted to the mare´s face but it was in better condition than he thought. A little dust and there was a water mark caused by a flower pot, carelessly placed on top but aside from that, it seemed to be in fine condition,

Frederick took a stool, frowning at the fact that he needed to use sit in such a dirty object and pushed a few keys. He tested one by one but he couldn't help his musical instinct and began to play a tune. Nothing elaborated, just a simple, somber tune. The music helped him relax and after the rough day he had with the train ride and the rude patron, he needed it.

But something was wrong, there was something interrupting his performance. He tried it again, searching for the broken key. There had to be something wrong with the mechanism, something that caused that odd tune. It took him a minute to realize it was Medow playing his guitar, trying to match his rhythm,

“Stop that,” Frederick ordered.

Meadow ignored him and kept tuning his guitar.

“Please, stop that.”

“Oh, magic words. And ´ere ah thought only unicorns could use them. Must be that fancy Canterlot air,” meadow mocked him.

Frederick repeated his snort and went back to the pain, trying to recover his tune. Meadow however didn't stop playing, shifting into a country melody.

It was almost like a hoofbeat duel, both trying to overcome the other with his style of music. The heavy classical tune fighting against the swift country style. They went for a full five minutes, eventually ending on a stale point. Both were tired and gasping for air although only Frederick showed it, Meadow making sure to hide his face with his hat.

They both turned over to the sound of clapping hooves.

“Well, it ain´t pretty watching the boys have fun. Although ah would much appreciate if yah can save the macho wrestling fer when there are patrons around. Bar won't open until a few hours,” the mare said.

“Yah know ah´m always ready to lend a helping hoof. What do yah said, Fred?”

“Please, Ipm a member f the Canterlot Orchestra. I do not perform for free.”

In response, the mare taped the tips jar, causing Frederick to growl.

****

Frederick did performed that night, much to his chagrin. Like he expected the settler ponies didn't appreciate his classic performance but at least had the courtesy to keep quiet while he did so. Halfway, he realized he was losing their interest and his musical pride kick in. He took a deep breath and changed the tune to the same Meadow had played earlier. He only had one half of say tune so he wasn't going anywhere with it.

Luckily, Meadow jumped to his rescue, taking his guitar and accompanying him. Frederick didn´t say a word, not even a nod with his head. He kept playing along with Meadow, their only reward the applause and the dancing couples, with the occasional whistles. They didn´t made the most energetic of tunes but it was enough to made the earth ponies hit the dancefloor.

They kept playing until the Princess´ moon was high on the sky.

Exhausted, Frederick went outside to get some fresh air. Early he had wished for the cool breeze of Canterlot but now he was missing the heat. The desert air was cold at night, worse than any Canterlot winter and that was a mountain town.

Relief came in the form of a towel hitting his head. He turned over and saw Meadow sitting next to him.

“That was quite a performance, Fred mah boy. Are yah always so zippy?”

“Not...always. I know my fair share of cheerful tunes but none quite so...upbeat,” Frederick replied, blushing a little.

“Haha, upbeat it was! Ah´ve never see mares jump that way when not chased by a rattlesnake! hahaha!”

Frederick didn´t quite get the joke but he smiled. Meadow was rude and uncouth by his standards but he had to admit it was an skilled guitar player. And he was enjoying his company.

“It´s a shame yah got to leave so soon,” Meadow mentioned.

Frederick kept quiet. He didn't want to admit he was enjoying his time here after how much he complained. Besides, he did had to go back to Canterlot as soon as possible. Even if the piano was in good conditions, he still had performances pending in the Capital City. He had no reason to stay, he had come simply to fix a problem with the delivery.

That was all.

“Hey partner, ah don´t like being a tell-taller but there miss has been watching you the whole night,” Meadow said, pointing at the inside of the bar.

Frederick peeked and saw the bartender looking at their direction. She gave them a somewhat flirty look and went back to her dance partner. Frederick wiped his forehead, wishing Meadow will not continue with the subject.

“She sure is pretty, right?”

Not such luck. “So it seems.”

“Oh come on, yah can´t tell me Canterlot mares can give her a run for her money.”

“I really can´t tell,” Frederick said He didn´t wanted to continue with this conversation.

“Yah don't expect me to buy that, right partner? Ah bet there is a pretty mare waiting at the Orchestra, right?” Meadow insisted, poking him.

“Stop that!”

Meadow backed down, a little scared at Frederick´s tone. “Sorry Fred, ah didn't mean to...ah´m sorry.”

“It´s...fine. I just don´t feel like talking about it.”

“Okay, private matters. Ah understand.”

“You wouldn´t.”

“Maybe ah will. Maybe..ah understand better than yah think.”

Frederick turned to look at MEadow. It was hard to say because of the dim moonlight. Without the city lights and with the few clouds for water supply covering the moon, Meadow´s face was hard to look. Frederick thought he saw a blush and frown but more importantly, a sad gleam on his green eyes. A gleam that Frederick had seen before on another pair of eyes.

HIs own.

Without knowing, Frederick had start to extend an arm towards Meadow but before he could ask the question, the mare called them back.

“We better go inside,” Meadow said. “It seems the party still needs us”

“Ill be there in a minute,” Frederick responded.

He stayed under the faint moonlight, waiting until he heard Meadow grab his guitar and made those swift tunes come back.

*****

“All settle to go, mister?” the hatted mare asked.

“Yes, everything is secured,” Frederick stated.

Certainly everything was settled. The piano was in the wagon, all tied-up and ready for the journey back to Canterlot. Frederick had no more reasons to stay in this settler town. At least, not any reasons he could said out loud.

“Well, it sure was a short visit but it was a chirpy one, mister Fred. Yah think yah can come back sometime again? Maybe do us another performance?”

“I...I´m not sure.”

“Ain't that a shame. Hope ya change your mind,” the mare said, tilting her hat before leaving.

Frederick watched her go and stood at the train station for a  few more minutes, waiting to see another pony showing up.

None did.

He got into his sat and watched as the train slowly left the town behind him. He pulled a paper sheet and began to scribble a partiture. It was a piano and guitar piece, a combination of two instruments and tow tunes. He took pride on his musical ear, on being of able of remember all the notes from last night. But he knew that he could never recover that tune.

Two different tunes had met one fateful night and it wasn't likely they'll ever meet again.