The Things We Do for Love

“Well, Sheriff?” Smokestack demanded as Silverstar walked up to the group at the train station in Ponyville. “Any luck yet?”

“Not yet,” Silverstar muttered. “Ah reckon y’all ain’t had any luck either, on account of y’ain’t got shit-eatin’ grins an’ some story about an ‘accident’ tryin’ t’catch Braeburn.”

“Now Sheriff, why would we four simple railroad drays, try to take on a proven killer like your deputy?” Smokestack asked dryly. “Unarmed, even? Why, Braker here even left his lever back in Appleoosa,” he pointed out, nodding towards the palomino, whose customary axe handle was now missing from its place on his back.

Silverstar didn’t even dignify the defense with an answer, snorting his disdain and shaking his head.

“He wasn’t out at Sweet Apple Acres, Ah know that much,” he continued instead. “Family ain’t seen ‘im. So that leaves us with the rest of town t’search. Prolly oughta start out with th’bakery, from what Ah remember there’s a filly workin’ there who knows most everypony in town.”

“That’s your plan?” Smokestack asked disdainfully. “Talk to the locals? I don’t imagine that Braeburn came into town and announced himself, Sheriff.”

“You got a better plan?” Silverstar growled.

“Yes. I say we all spread out and hunt down your pet head-cruncher. At least that way, four of us are going to want to catch him.”

“Now you listen here –“

“No, you listen now, Sheriff. All right, I admit it, I was seeing Sundancer on the sly once in a while. She’s a very pretty mare, and Lead wasn’t always the sort of gentleman she deserved. Right often he wasn’t, an’ Ah can’t say as I blame her for strayin’.”

“You couldn’t, since she was strayin’ your way,” Silverstar countered. “Don’t see what that’s got to do with –“

“Damned little, except this. Lead might’ve been a lousy husband, but that doesn’t mean he deserved to get his head split open by some filly-fooler that likes to play dress-up. I’m a real good judge of character, Sheriff, a real good judge. You learn to be one, growing up in a city where every waiter and street sweeper’s ‘just one lucky break’ away from being the next Clark Hayble or Billygoat Wilder. And I don’t judge you overly kindly, Sheriff.”

Silverstar’s scowl darkened.

“Is that so.”

“Yes, it is. When we were back in town, you changed the subject by trying to blackmail me with my running around with Sundancer. Well, now Lead’s out of the way, so I don’t imagine anybody cares about that. I’m still not so sure you aren’t rutting that little crossdressing freak of yours though. Just like I’m not sure you actually talked to the Apples.”

“You keep runnin’ your mouth like that, Smokestack, an’ it’s liable t’get you in trouble,” Silverstar growled. The rest of the posse had the decency to look uncomfortable, keenly aware of the lack of other ponies to see what might happen, aside from the ticket and concession workers at the station. But Smokestack just kept puffing away.

“On what charge, Sheriff? Of wanting to make sure you actually bring a killer to justice? I don’t think you asked them if Braeburn was there, because I think you know damn well it was. I waited here while you went out to Sweet Apple Acres because I thought it might come traipsing out of its carriage, but it ain’t. No, I think it did beat us here, and it went out to family. And when you found it, I think you told them all to wait while you got us off searching the rest of town, so Braeburn could come back and catch the next train to points unknown.”

“That’s a lot of damn-fool thinkin’, for a pony who thinks he’s so smart,” Silverstar snorted. “You don’t trust me? Fine, then go on out to Sweet Apple Acres your own Celestia-damned self, an’ Tartarus take y’all! Ah’m gonna check out the rest of town, an’ if y’all want to waste your time? Enjoy yerselves.” A wicked smile curled Silverstars lip as he stepped up close to Smokestack, the taller stallion leaning back as their necks almost touched.

“One thing Ah think y’all oughta know though, Smokestack,” Silverstar sneered. “Ah might not be th’most faithful stallion, but ah ain’t been ruttin’ mah deputy. Ah’m just somethin’ y’ain’t dealt with often in Applewood. Ah’m a good damn Sheriff, even if it means bringin’ in a friend o’ mine. An’ it means Ah’m gonna be damn sure Ah got the right pony on the end o’the rope for Lead getting’ killed. Just how long were you alone, after you lot split up an’ afore Ah found you, Smokestack? An’ did you think that y’all just admitted havin’ a motive afore you opened yer fat yap?”

Smokestack scowled at Silverstar, two pairs of stubborn brown eyes glaring into each other.

“I’m heading out to Sweet Apple Acres to double-check your story,” the dray growled. “Big Iron, you stay here; rest your leg and wait for when Braeburn shows up thinking the coast is clear. Braker, you come with me, and Red? Keep an’ eye on the Sheriff here. Don’t give him another chance to warn his little filly we’re comin’.”

“Sure thing, Smokey,” Red nodded uncomfortably, moving to try and separate the feuding stallions.

“Y’feel like wastin’ yer time, feel free.” Silverstar shrugged and turned to head into town for his own investigation, leaving Smokestack and Braker to start making their way down the trail to the farm.

~~~===~~~

“Thanks ag’in for jumpin’ out an’ savin’ Mac like that,” Applejack said quietly as she helped Braeburn into the barn.

“Couldn’t live with m’self if Ah hadn’t,” Braeburn pointed out, standing up without a problem once they were under cover. “Hope y’don’t mind, Cous, but Ah didn’t really twist m’leg. Just wanted to talk fer a bit.”

“Reckon Ah can handle that,” Applejack sighed, rolling her eyes. “You didn’t have to fake a hurt leg to do that, though.”

“Ah did if Ah wanted t’talk about Mac without him here,” Braeburn countered. “How’s he doin’?”

“’Bout as well as can be expected,” Applejack smiled, reaching back to close the door so they could talk without being interrupted. “Still thinks y’cain’t stand ‘im after… well, you know.”

“Ah reckon it’s fer the best, Applejack!” Braeburn protested, stamping a forehoof. “You know it ripped ‘is heart out when Ah told ‘im how Ah am!” Applejack just sighed, walking back up next to her cousin and nuzzling his neck.

“Ah know, Braeburn. But it weren’t what you thought! He kinda thought it was his fault in th’first place. Like he’d gone an’ done somethin’ wrong. Y’remember what happened, Brae? What really happened?” Applejack clarified.

“Ah remember Mac lookin’ like I’d just bucked him in the teeth,” Braeburn sighed, hanging his head.

“An’ then he hugged you, an’ said he still loved you,” Applejack pointed out. “He meant it, Cousin. He tries t’move on oncet’in a while, but it never lasts long, mare or stallion.”

“Mare or what?” Braeburn looked up at her suddenly.

“Heh… figured y’didn’t know,” Applejack smiled knowingly. “Apple Bloom an’ her friends set him up with Miss Cheerilee, the schoolteacher, for a while, but it just didn’t work out. But before that, Mac had been seein’ Caramel on the sly. He still thinks Ah don’t know, but… well, he ain’t the only one who notices things ‘round these parts. Reckon it worked out better with Caramel than Miss Cheerilee, but then, Ah reckon their first date didn’t end up with him payin’ off a weddin’ band from the bottom of a pit neither.”

Braeburn stared at her dumbly, like he’d been the one bucked in the teeth this time.

“Ah tried t’tell y’all at the last reunion, but y’weren’t listenin’.”

“Y’sure you want to be tryin’ t’set a killer up with your brother, Applejack?” Braeburn asked guardedly.

“Shoot, Braeburn, if Mac says y’didn’t do it, Ah reckon he’s prob’ly right. An’ Ah reckon he meant it when he said he’d prove it, too. He’s mighty stubborn when he thinks it’s fer a good cause.” Applejack leaned back against a hay bale, patting the floor to get Braeburn to sit next to her.

“He’s stayed stubborn fer you ever since you really were a filly,” she added.

Braeburn sighed deeply, closing his eyes.

“Applejack… it ain’t fair. Ah know he loved me as a filly, but… Ah ain’t a filly!”

“An’ Ah’m just sayin’ that he don’t care, Braeburn. For what it’s worth… Ah think you’d be good for him, once this is all sorted out.”

“Ah cain’t be his mare, Applejack. Ah just can’t live like that, an’ you both know it. Please don’t –“

“Ah ain’t askin’ you to be his mare, Brae,” Applejack winked. “Ah’ve got some work t’do, while Mac’s off getting’ you off the hook, but Ah’ve got somethin’ up at the house y’might find… useful. Ah’ll bring it on down when Ah take a break later.”

“Heh… thanks,” Braeburn shrugged, trying not to let his mind wander too much as to what it might be. “Guess Ah’ll see you then?”

“You betcha,” she grinned, nuzzling his neck. “But first, you remember where the ol’ club house is?”

“How could Ah forget?” Braeburn laughed. “That old thing still standin’?”

“Good as new, down in the west fields,” Applejack grinned. “Why don’t you mosey on down there t’hide for a spell? You can keep an eye on Apple Bloom an’ her friends, just don’t let on why you’re there. Oughta be safer than hidin’ out up here, so close t’the house.”

“Y’sure that’s a good idea, Cous’? Last time Ah was down there….”

“Last time y’all were down there was a rough day for everypony,” Applejack pointed out. “Besides, ain’t a question about if it’s a good idea, it’s a bad one stayin’ here. Y’all git goin’ now!” She stood up and started towards the door, pausing to turn back to him before she stepped out.

“An’ don’t you worry. Mac knows what he’s doin’, Ah’m sure.” She left to head out to the fields, leaving Braeburn alone to gather this thoughts.

“Ah sure hope he does,” the cowpony murmured, snagging the bag of biscuits and slipping out the barn to find his way back to the clubhouse that he, Applejack, and Big Mac used to play in when they were foals.

Not for the first time, he wished that life could go back to being that simple again.