Christian Values

by bookplayer

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Alternate Universe, Human, Applejack, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Rainbow Dash, Romance, Scootaloo
Length: 5362

"Dash" Hammett would rather sleep in on Sunday than go to church, and her girlfriend AJ is getting tired of it. But today someone interrupts her Sunday morning nap to show her that maybe a few hours of sleep aren't worth the things that get lost.

Co-written with Merc The Jerk

Evelyn "Dash" Hammett isn't lazy. She lives life hitting on all sixes, traveling between work in the city and seeing her girlfriend Jacqueline "Applejack" Pomme whenever she can. So if she wants to catch up on her shut-eye on a Sunday, it shouldn't be a big deal.

Except Applejack thinks it's a big deal, and one Sunday she lays it down: go to church or scram off for the morning. So Dash scrams... at least until a surprise visitor to the Pomme clan's farm shows up, and she's reminded that life's a narrow path.

Reading Moonshine is highly recommended to understand the setting and characters.

Cover art by Eve Ashgrove

Published 2016-02-28 20:30:02 UTC
Last updated 2016-02-28 20:30:02 UTC

A Swell Sunday Morning

Dash had nearly fallen back asleep from the call of her name downstairs when there came a knock at the bedroom door. Looking bleary-eyed towards the offending noise, she then trailed her vision over to the nightstand by the bed, where the early hour of eight thirty-two taunted her from the windup clock.

“Come on, now! Breakfast! Get down an’ eat up ‘fore we head!” Applejack’s strong country voice drawled out. Normally Dash could listen to the kitten purr all day, but at this ungodly hour she just wanted her to put a damn sock in it.

“Go on and eat. I’ll dig up some grub later,” Dash half called, half mumbled into her pillow.

“How much later?” Applejack asked, already opening the door and sticking her head inside. “Got church soon, sug, an’ ya don’t really look ready.”

Dash opened one eye. “I’m ready for you to go to church. Then I can finish my dream.”

Applejack shot an unamused look at Dash. “Does the dream involve me sluggin’ ya at the end?”

Even half asleep, Dash smirked. “I don’t know yet, you’re a wildcat sometimes…”

“This kitten’s got claws. You of all people should know. So if ya don’t want ta get scratched…” She poked her head outside of the room to check that the coast was clear. Confirming it, she gave a small, coy smile of her own, her eyes borderline predatory as she took in the petite woman laying on the bed. “Or, if ya want this cat ta scratch later on, ya gotta get up an’ movin’.”

“Come on, AJ. I’ve been to church. I know my onions. Reverend Waddle’s gonna drone on about God’s love and all that baloney, then the choir's gonna sing some boring stuff about Jesus and Stephanie’s gonna be the only one who can carry a tune.” Dash rolled back over. “I’ve seen this picture show. I don’t need to go again.”

This time Applejack stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her. She was already in glad rags—a smart summer dress and stockings—with a pair of well-worn flats. Shoes were harder for her to come by, AJ was tall in comparison to many of the men in town, for women she was massive; finding women’s shoes that fit her oversized feet was, in her own words, “an absolute bitch.”

“There’s more to it than the sermon, Dash,” AJ replied, crossing her arms. “I know back in the day, was ‘bout the only time we all got off the farm as a family. That has ta count fer somethin’. Hell, I’m pretty sure my first memory of you an’ Rare was after we all left church an’ you put a bug down the back-a her dress. Or did ya sleep through the rest-a that stuff?” As an afterthought, she added under her breath, “an’ Alice does a good job in the choir too, ya know.”

Dash sighed and rolled over onto her back. “Those were nifty times, I’m not gonna lie. But we were kids then, and now, I mean… I haven’t even been around town in ages. Maybe who sold the most lemon pound cakes at the school bake sale isn’t worth getting out of bed at eight-goddamn-thirty on a Sunday for…”

“Would ya at least not say ‘Goddamn’ on a Sunday?” Applejack asked with a grumble.

“Hold the phone, dollface.” Dash sat half up in the bed, raising an eyebrow. “Lemme get this straight. Six days a week we can cuss like longshoremen, not to mention showing Sodom and Gomorrah how it’s done, but Sunday I can’t say ‘Goddamn?’”

AJ vehemently shook her head. “We ain’t like Sodom an’ Gomorrah. If we were, I wouldn’t be doin’ it.” She considered her words. “I hate bein’ mushy, especially this early in the day, but I love ya. What they was doin’ in those towns didn’t have love in it. It was jus’ lust.” Scratching her cheek, she gave a small nod in thought. “Though I really should cut back on the swearin’ sometime. A real bitch to do, though.” She raised her hand in realization, letting out a tsk of exasperation at her choice of words.

Dash sighed and lay back down. “I love you too, AJ.”

AJ pressed on, her tone a hair gentler as she looked to Dash. “Anyway, maybe now would be a good time ta see what’s been goin’ on, sug. I know they’d love ta have ya—people ask me ‘bout ya all the time, how yer doin’, all of that. I hate havn’ ta jus say ya ain’t feelin’ good, or yer wore out from workin’—I hate makin’ excuses fer ya.”

“Maybe I’ll go to church again sometime, just to see folks,” Dash said. Then she rolled over on her side. “It’s just not really my spot these days, and especially not today.”

“Then when?” AJ asked. “I know how ya are. Today becomes tomorrow, tomorrow’s next week an’ by the time that rolls around ya act like we never even had the talk. Ya never get the gumption ta get up an’ do somethin’ ya don’t wanna if I don’t drag ya along.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t wanna do it,” Dash muttered into her pillow, closing her eyes.

“What a load of horseshit,” Applejack said under her breath, then swore as soon as the swear word passed her lips. Heaving a sigh, she knelt down toward the bed. “Ya know what, fine. Nevermind all the shi—stuff—I do fer ya that I don’t wanna. If ya really, absolutely can’t stand givin’ up one hour or so of yer precious time once a week fer me an’ my family—our family—I won’t force ya, alright?”

She waited for a beat, then snapped forward, yanking the covers off of Dash and throwing them to the foot of the bed. “But Evelyn Hammett, if ya think yer sleepin’ through all-a it while we’re away, ya got another thing comin!”

“Hey! What the hell?” Dash’s eyes opened wide as the chilly morning air hit her. She swung her bare legs out of bed and sat in her undershirt and shorts. “I do stuff for our family! Just last week I taught Alice how to change a sparkplug! I just don’t see why me sleeping in has to be such a big Goddamn deal!”

“Heaven forbid ya sleep in jus’ six days instead of seven!” Applejack snapped back. “An’ part of doin’ stuff is bein’ a good example ta Alice! Ya know how much that girl looks up ta ya. I’m glad ya taught her that, but there’s more to bein’ a good role model than some odds an’ ends gearhead stuff!”

“Everythin’ alright up there, Jacquline?” the deep, rumbling baritone of AJ’s older brother rang out from downstairs.

AJ spared a narrowed look Dash’s way, but turned towards the door. “Aces up here, jus’ havin’ a discussion is all,” she called back out, then returned her attention to the woman sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dash rubbed her face with her hand, then reached over and grabbed her clothes from the chair she’d tossed them over the previous night. “Fine. Maybe I’m just a lousy role model. Wouldn’t want a kid turning out like me, right?” She tugged on her pants with more force than was strictly necessary.

AJ looked up to the ceiling and pursed her lips. “I didn’t mean it like that,” she said simply. “It’s jus’ like the Book says: a narrow path we’re all walkin’. I gotta mind what I’m doin’ an’ sayin’ jus’ like you do. But if I’m on the level with ya: you sleepin’ while I’m out doin’ somethin’ like that with everyone turns me the wrong way. Alright? Maybe it’s selfish, but that’s how I feel ‘bout the damn thing.”

Shaking her head, Dash pulled on her shirt and buttoned it up. “It’s screwy AJ. This whole thing is screwy. We’re grown women, and half the time we couldn’t find that path with that Book and a compass. The town’ll still be there Monday, and I’ll still be here Monday, whether I catch a nap or not.” Dash shoved her feet in her shoes and stood up, grabbing her cap. “So, I’ll go catch a nap someplace else, and maybe when I catch up with you this evening you’ll have cooled down some.”

“Fine. Run off. Ya do it so well,” AJ tersely replied. She stood, heading towards the door. Gripping the handle, she sighed, not for the first time that morning, and visibly relaxed. “Listen, sug. Ya can’t always know that someone or somethin’ll still be there tomorrow. It’s better ta make yer peace when ya can, ya know?” Glancing over her shoulder, she shrugged. “I can tell ya from experience that a lot of things can happen between now an’ later. I jus’ worry ‘bout ya. Ya damn genius.” So saying, she opened the door and stepped out into the hall, shutting it behind her.

Dash just looked at the closed door for a long moment, swallowing a lump in her throat. Then she ran her fingers through her rainbow hair and put her cap on her head. She opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, but Applejack was already down the stairs.

“I’ll chance it,” she whispered, then she headed for the front door.

She stepped out into the crisp autumn morning, already grumbling as soon as her foot hit the porch. It was too cold out here, she was already dreading winter on the farm. Though she still spent a lot of time up in the city—had to make bread somehow, and right now being a mechanic brought in enough to where she was at least above water—she had come to consider the farm a second home, as often as she wound up in the Pomme clan’s guestroom.

Not always the guest room you’re sleeping in, though, she thought with a wolfish grin. Leaning forward onto the porch railing, she stood briefly, taking the view in.

Every day after the autumn harvest, the farm got quieter. Sure, there was livestock; if Dash really tried to search for the scent, she’d be able to find the smell of manure easily enough to prove it, but when a lot of the plants died or stopped bearing fruit for the year, a hush fell over the land. AJ didn’t always think it was a bad thing, she called it a reward for running around like a one-legged man in an ass kicking contest throughout the other half of a year. Dash was undecided on the matter. The yellowing vines that housed vegetables and the trees off towards the horizon to her right were quickly becoming bare of their leaves, leaving nothing more than wooden skeletons in their wake, weren’t something she enjoyed looking at. This time of year and towards Christmas always got to Dash. Everyone hunkered down, nobody wanted to really go anywhere or do anything and it left her antsy. She wouldn’t say she hated it, exactly, but it felt like it limited her options.

Once more she yawned, her mouth opening enough as she did that she could have fit her entire fist inside if she wanted.

Well, there’s one thing you could do now at least, she thought with a smirk. Debating on her options, she gave up on the usual idea of sleeping outside in the trees, and instead gave thought to the tool shed, but vetoed the idea before following that train towards station. Thing was too small and cramped.

Glancing towards the hay barn she quickly latched onto that as her best course of action. Though bedding down like she was some sort of cow or horse didn’t suit her, keeping warm did.

With that in mind she tromped on down off the porch and entered the barn.

Though dimmer than outside, the barn had enough openings that she could see clear enough through the dark—Mac had said something about getting electricity into the place, but none of the Pomme clan had ever committed fully to the idea, it fell to the ‘eventually’ category, like most of their home improvement works. Honestly, Dash should be grateful the hayseeds had hot water and indoor toilets.

In the far back resting next to a pitchfork and a stack of square bales sat one already open, the twine holding it together had burst and the hay littered the floor.

“See? A miracle. Even God’s telling me to take it easy,” Dash announced to nobody but herself and headed towards her prize. After a little work adjusting the hay pile she had made herself a bed, which she fell down into. While the beds inside were better, this wasn’t too shabby. Maybe hobos had the right idea all along. Tilting her hat forward over her eyes, she put her hands behind her head and let out a sigh of contentment.

The door opened and Dash nearly groaned out loud, expecting to hear AJ drone on and on at her again. When it didn’t come she paused, tilting her cap back. Instead of any of the Pomme clan’s towering presence there was the outline of a figure a few inches shorter than Dash herself.

After a beat the figure approached her.

“Uh, hey,” she said. Dash finally had it click on who it was the instant a pair of driving goggles at the brow of the figure glimmered in the faint light from the door. Only one cat was cuckoo enough to wear something like those every day of the week.

Louanne.

Alice had two friends she was just about tied at the hip with, one was Rarity’s little sister, Stephanie. The other was a bob-haired, freckled newcomer to the sleepy little town, a little firecracker from the big city that moved here with her mom a few months back. People your age were a luxury in a small town like this, so even with some of their differences, the trio became fast friends; reminded Dash a bit of Rarity, Applejack and herself back in the day.

“Hey.” Dash nodded and closed her eyes to get back to her nap.

Louanne gave a curious look Dash’s way and rubbed at the back of her neck. “What’s going on?” she said, attempting to be casual but watching the woman with rapt attention, a half-smile on her face showing off a missing front tooth. She had fought a tree head-on a few weeks back. Turns out the tree won.

Dash opened one eye. “Just trying to get some shut eye.” She caught sight of the dress the girl was wearing. It looked real familiar, a worn and ill-fitting thing that was older than the girl that was wearing it.

Damn, AJ, Dash thought with a bit of a bemused smirk. You ever throw anything out, dollface? Regarding the girl again, she paused.

“Don’t you have to get to church?” Dash asked.

Shrugging, Louanne moved over to a nearby post and took to picking a splinter free from the support. “Mom doesn’t care if I go. Alice said you were around, so I thought I’d come and visit. If that’s cool.”

Dash looked at the kid again and shook her head. Even if the kid’s old lady didn’t care if she went to church, Dash had to wonder why AJ hadn’t marched her there. Having a dad who didn’t care never got Dash out of it when she was that age.

Not that Dash cared if the kid went to church, but it would let her get her nap in. Now she was pretty much stuck, she couldn’t send the kid off alone.

“It’s swell,” Dash said as she pulled herself into more of a sitting position, her back against one of the haybales. “So, what’s ticking? How do ya’ like the town?”

“It’s… kinda boring,” she admitted in the blunt way only children seemed to excel at.

“Yeah. Especially this time of year.” Dash frowned, thinking of the empty fields. “I like summer better.”

At that Louanne gave an enthused nod, the goggles she wore at her brow landing on the bridge of her nose from the shake of her head. The things were made for an adult, so even with the straps as tight as they could go it still was loose on her head. But the price was right, being a gift from ‘Filthy’ Richard, and the girl would grow into them.

Eventually.

Bringing her hands up, she adjusted them back to her brow and smiled. “Summer is swell. I like riding my bike around then.”

Dash nodded, then silence filled the barn as she tried to think of something else to talk to the kid about. She doubted she’d seen any good picture shows, and probably didn’t know anything about next year’s Fords. Finally she shrugged. “So, you’ve got folks? At least a mom who doesn’t care if you go to church, right?”

“Dad’s in jail. And Mom doesn’t really care about church.” Her face darkened, but lightened at another thought. “Grandpa liked going with me back home, though.”

Wrong question. Dash cringed. She should’ve known from experience how that one could go. “Where was home, before here?”

“Los Angeles,” she stated. “What about you?”

“Hometown girl.” Dash gave a thin smile. “Grew up about a mile from here. The place is empty now, it was a shack, and my dad left town right after I did.”

“Oh.” She seemed to measure her next words, unsure how to approach the question. Finally, she rubbed at her arm and looked at Dash. “Is your dad nice?”

Leaning back against the hay, Dash considered that. He drank, sure, but he never yelled much or broke stuff like some of the guys she’d met in the city. He just kind of checked out after Mom died, at least that's what people said. But thinking about the people who said that led her to Mac, and Mr. Belle, and Reverend Waddle and his son… “He wasn’t the worst I’ve met. But he sure wasn’t the best.”

“I think mine’s the same,” Louanne agreed, looking down at the dirt. “Even if he’s where he is. Not as bad as everyone thinks, but...”

“I get it.” Dash sighed, taking in the kid again. She did get it, and it wasn’t a fun thing to get. It wasn’t that it was bad, there were plenty of folks in town who would step in if things were bad. It was just… lonely. “Look, kid, can I give you some advice?”

She mutely nodded, deciding to plop down to sit where she stood. She waited for Dash’s words, looking in a way like AJ used to when her granny was talking.

“Stick with the Pommes. They’re good apples,” she laughed a little at herself. “No matter what else is going on in your life, they aren’t ever gonna let you down.”

“Alice is swell, and Jacqueline and Mac too. They’re all really nice,” she agreed, then smiled. “Rarity complains about Mac’s stubble sometimes when she picks up Stephanie.”

Dash rolled her eyes. “Rarity’s a good dame, too, just sometimes she gets kinda picky about the paint job. But she knows what’s under the hood is the tops. And with the Pommes, it is, all the way.” Dash looked at the kid and cocked her head. “Ya’ know, it’s weird that AJ didn’t make you go to church. She used to make me go all the time.”

Louanne raised an eyebrow. “Why? Did you like it or something?”

“Pfft. No way. I just—” Dash paused. Why had she gone? It wasn’t like AJ could make her. “I just wanted to be there. Everyone else was there, and I got to sit with AJ’s family, then after we’d get together with Rarity and hang out…” She bit her lip, frowning down at the hay. “So, why aren’t you there?”

“Didn’t feel like it.” She looked to Dash and gave an unsure shrug. “I mean, I know about God and that stuff. Why do I have to go?”

“It’s not about God.” Dash stopped, then shook her head. “Well, I mean, I guess it is about God, but it’s about everyone else too. Like, what they’re doing, and what’s going on around town, if there are any good picnics or parties coming up… it’s the place where everybody’s together every week. And the God stuff isn’t that bad.”

“Then why aren’t you there?” Louanne asked with a suspicious look.

“It’s complicated, kid.” Dash sighed. “When you grow up, you get balled up, and sometimes… it’s like there’s this path you’re on, but sometimes you go wandering off. And when you’re off that path, sometimes things don’t seem that bad… or that good… and you get used to not even worrying about the path.” Dash rubbed her face with her hand. “Am I making any sense?”

“Maybe? If you know you’re going off it, why can’t you just try and get back on?” She grinned and went on excitedly, “I saw you take this turn in Mr. Richard’s car where it was like you were gonna go right in a ditch, then at the last minute you pulled it right back on the road!”

Dash gave a nervous laugh “Let’s pipe down about that one, okay?” She shook her head, thinking about the kid’s question. “It’s hard to get back on this path. What if it’s just not the path for me anymore? What if it’s not really where I belong?”

“I dunno.” She shrugged. “Is it where you wanna be?”

“I dunno.” Dash frowned in thought. She muttered, “It’s where AJ is trying to be.”

“You said to stick with the Pommes,” Louanne pointed out. “It’s good to have folks who won’t let you down.”

Memories of her conversation with AJ came back to Dash. Maybe AJ was good at not letting folks down, but Dash obviously wasn’t. She looked at the kid again and frowned. Why hadn’t AJ made that kid go to church?

A cloud crept into her mind; was it because of her? AJ wouldn’t just give up on a kid because Dash was a lost cause. A kid like that needed to go to church, she needed to be with the Pommes and the town, and learn how to stay on that damn-- darn path ‘cause it was easy enough to lose even with a lifetime of church in Dash’s brain.

“Louanne?” Dash said, her voice giving a squeak as she spoke.

The kid looked to her expectantly.

“Get a wiggle on, let’s see if we can make it to church before the sermon starts.”

Louanne frowned. “Weren’t you gonna take a nap or something?”

“There’s some stuff that’s more important.” Dash rose to her feet and walked over to the kid, messing her hair and leading her out of the barn.

The two snuck into the church just as the choir finished their song and had sat back down. Scanning the pews, they spotted the unmistakable backs of the elder Pomme siblings—sticking out was a specialty for them—and Dash smiled in surprise. AJ had kept a couple of spots at the pew open for them next to her. They approached and squeezed past Rarity, who kept her focus towards Stephanie, beaming with pride even after the girl had finished her song and took to giving a poke to Alice’s side, the two choir members obviously sharing a joke.

Mac raised a brow as they came sneaking past him and sucked in his massive frame as much as he could so they could get by. The Pomme’s neighbor Zecora reached forward, the negro woman giving Dash’s hand a squeeze in friendly greeting as they moved through and plopped down next to AJ.

“Made better time than I expected,” Applejack remarked with a pleased smile. “Was expectin’ the Reverend ta start up ‘fore ya change yer mind.”

Dash ran her fingers through her hair, pulling out some stray pieces of hay. “Woulda been here sooner, but I had to drag the kid along.”

“I coulda beat you here, even,” Louanne protested. “You slowed me down.”

“Dash is a bit of a slow poke, ain’t she?” Applejack replied, her smile turning into a grin.

Dash narrowed her eyes at Applejack. “You wanna say that--”

She was cut off by a shushing from Bonnie and Lyra in the pew in front of them. Dash looked up to see that the very elderly reverend had finally made his way to the pulpit and had started the process of examining the notes for his sermon like he’d never seen them before, a sign she knew meant he was about to start.

Dash leaned back with a resigned sigh and a glare at Applejack that melted into a lopsided smile. As Reverend Waddle started droning on about temples and merchants or some jazz like that, Dash felt herself starting to doze, and wished she’d stayed in bed.

It felt like a good Sunday morning was supposed to.

Dash let out a small grunt as AJ gave a nudge to her abs, stirring her awake just as the last note of Nearer, My God, to Thee finished from the congregation. Reverend Waddle adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses, double-checking the scattered notes atop the podium before smiling warmly at his flock.

“Well, unless there’s any confessions to be made, we’ll let that dismiss us. Go out with a light heart. God bless.” With that, he shut his book and headed to the front of the church.

There was a general murmur though the people, several stretching and popping joints as they came up from the pews. Dozens of conversations and well-wishes filled the church, some talking about the sermon, a few of what was going on in town, what lunch was going to be, but the constant was that people were talking to one-another, talking, laughing, shaking hands, the people there across all kinds of different professions, temperaments, and walks of life, united together the way only a fellowship over something could do.

Maybe Dash still didn’t get the big picture as often as she should, but as she headed to the exit, surrounded by her friends and, in a way, her family, she thought she could catch at least a glimpse of life maybe not as it was, but as it should be.

At the doors Reverend Waddle stood alongside his son Matthew, though most called him Caramel not only due to his hair color, but also after what the older folks around town called the ‘caramel incident,’ something Macintosh was fond of mentioning every chance he could to the man.

The Reverend finished shaking Bonnie’s hand and sent her on her way, then turned to offer a handshake to Dash, a warm smile on his face.

“Well if it isn’t Evelyn! Jacqueline's been mentioning you’ve been in town from time to time lately! How are you doing?”

“I’ve been swe—er, good. I’ve been good, Reverend,” Dash said, remembering at the last minute that the old bird was about a hundred and probably not up on slang. “It’s good to be home.”

“We’re glad to have you back. Some home cooking would do you good, you’re just about skin and bones. I’ll try to find Mary’s recipe for molasses pie and have Caramel bring one for you sometime. Bless her soul, she made the best in the county.” He rested his other hand on the top of her palm, giving it a squeeze before letting go. “But I’m sure you have more to do today than listen to an old fella.”

“I remember that pie. I went back for four pieces at the Sunday School picnic once… that was a bad idea.” Dash made a face, but there was a smile in her eyes. “But I think AJ’ll keep me from making myself sick again. Thanks.” She smiled sincerely, giving his hand a gentle shake. “And, hey, good job on the sermon. I’ll keep that stuff in mind.”

They bid their farewells and poured into the yard of the church alongside almost the whole damn town. It felt like a quarter of the Pomme clan’s extended family alone had just come out of the woodwork; cousins and uncles and aunts filed out the doors, most giving AJ a slap on the shoulder or a quick word as they passed by, on their way to their families and farmsteads. Next came a pack of the Carota clan, the Pomme’s distant neighbors, with well over a hundred acres separating them. Though the distance didn’t stop them from housing a rivalry to the Pommes that dated back before Applejack’s dad was even a thought to her grandma. Granted, it was more of an in-joke to both families at this point, but that didn’t stop the town bake sale feeling like a war between them every year.

Next out came Rarity, immersed in a chat with Filthy Richard, at his side he held the hand of his daughter Desiree, one of the only sour faces the church grounds seemed to hold. Rarity offered a few words to Applejack and Dash, then returned her complete focus to Richard, no doubt invigorated by the man’s stories as much now as she was when she was a child.

Finally, the familiar faces slowed down to a trickle and Applejack could spare a moment to get a word in edgewise with her partner.

“Well, was it painful, Dash?” Applejack asked.

“Only ‘cause they don’t put cushions on the pews. How’s a gal supposed to nap like that? I almost had to listen to some of it.” Dash smirked and gave Applejack a nudge.

“At least you missed some. I was wide awake,” Louanne grumbled.

Applejack reached forward, ruffling the girl’s hair.

“Better that happens than ya fall asleep. I woulda made sure that didn’t last long.”

Dash frowned. “If you care so much if she’s awake, why didn’t you make sure she got here? What’s up with letting the kid scram off by herself? You always made sure I showed up.”

Applejack got ready to speak up when Louanne beat her to the punch.

“She said I didn’t have to go if you didn’t,” the girl replied. “I just had to go and talk to you first.”

Dash’s eyes went wide and she looked to Applejack, reading the truth of it in the satisfied smirk on her face.

“You… You…” Dash’s eyes started to narrow. “You rat! You had this all worked out, huh? Sending a kid to feed me a line! Isn’t there something in that book about not tricking poor janes outta their nap time?”

“Maybe towards the back,” Applejack easily admitted with a shrug. “I tended ta skim towards Revelations.” Looking between the two, she added on, “can’t argue with results, tho’. Think Jesus’ll forgive me fer this transgression if it gets yer as—er, butt—here.”

Dash glared at her. Then she looked down and caught sight of the kid, just as Louanne and Alice ran off to join Stephanie as she came out of the church. The three of them started talking and giggling as soon as they were together, and Dash had to smile, remembering those days.

She turned at Applejack, the smile still on her face, and said, simply, “Thanks.”

“Anytime, sug. I know you’d do the same.” Clapping her hands together, she looked towards Mac and Zecora as they came out from the front of the church. “Now I think we’re due fer some fried chicken fer lunch. How’s that sound?”

Though winter was still on the back of Dash’s mind, its approach as sure and as eventual as death itself, as the sun shone down that afternoon on the town there was a warmth that not only came from above, but seemed to almost radiate from the town’s people, filling the streets and fields with hope when it was needed the most, briefly dispelling the approaching chill and pushing away the quiet promise of the season.

And to Dash, it was good.