The Salt Block Saloon was the most popular spot in Appleoosa. From shortly before sunset until long after the moon rose, it was difficult to find a spot at the bar or among the tables. Ponies bought salt licks or apple cider and talked as they found relief from the heat.
It was once assumed the bartender was the richest pony in Appleoosa. He would have been if he didn’t have to import large quantities of food and drink every week.
Ponies came and went casually. Sometimes a pony would come in for a drink after work, go home for dinner, then come back for a salt lick or a slice of pie. Others stayed and didn’t eat dinner until very late at night, after they’d had as much liquor or salt as they could stand.
The bar officially closed at ten, but the bartender couldn’t close up until as late as midnight or one because of how late some ponies would stay. And so long as they kept buying, the bartender would let them stay.
Among the regulars, the most frequent were the farm ponies. In charge of maintaining the fields and working long hours in the desert heat, it was they who most relished a cold drink and some time in the air-conditioned saloon. They also spent time commiserating about their relative problems and trading advice and techniques.
The bar always had a warm atmosphere with the good-natured and friendly farm ponies as the main patrons. They were friendly with nearly everyone in town, and if they had an open spot at their tables, they would invite newcomers to join them. And since most of them were a naturally open sort, it was easy to be drawn into conversation with one of them.
Despite being one of the regulars and generally considered the easiest pony to talk to in town, one night Braeburn sat alone. It was the evening after the buffalo had charged the town in an attempt to trample the orchards, and Braeburn had to admit he was kind of shaken after it. It was all good now, but it had been one of the most harrowing events in the starting of the new town and he wanted the drink and some time alone to think.
Thankfully, the damage was minimal. The railroad station clock tower was destroyed, bales of hay were everywhere, and the entire afternoon had been spent cleaning bits of pie that had intermingled with the dust, but nothing major. The clock tower could be finished by tomorrow, and the hay could be regathered into the bales.
But it was hard work, and there was more to do. They now had to make a pie stand and make more pies to satiate the buffalo’s appetite for the pies. They could make a lot of pies by themselves, but it was harder on-demand; they would be back in two days and wanted forty pies. At three apples per pie and at minimum twenty apples per tree, they’d have to harvest at least five trees before they’d have enough. Not to mention clearing the trees for the stampede path…
Braeburn drained the last bit of his bourbon and soda. As soon as a waitress came around to his table, he immediately ordered a second one. And a slice of pie, just to make sure he wasn’t going too overboard on the drinks. Wouldn’t do with his cousin and her friends still in town.
The saloon door opened and in walked a familiar face, Sheriff Silverstar. The brown pony went up to the bar and ordered something from the bartender that Braeburn couldn’t make out. But there was no seat at the bar and soon he was looking around for a place to sit.
The Sheriff was the one pony Braeburn could trust to talk about his issues, being the only one who really understood the conflict as he did. Braeburn raised a hoof and waved. “Over here, Sheriff!” he called.
The Sheriff turned in Braeburn’s direction. Noticing the empty spot at Braeburn’s table, he paid, grabbed his drink from the bartender and made his way through the saloon to where Braeburn was sitting. At that moment, the waitress came around with Braeburn’s drink, and each took a sip.
“You’re usually with the other farmers, aren’t you?” Sheriff Silverstar observed.
Braeburn sighed. “More on my mind lately that I don’t think they would have understood.”
Sheriff Silverstar nodded understandingly. “It’s been a hectic week for all of us.”
“Yeah, but… I can’t shake the feeling we could have prevented at least some of this work.”
Sheriff Silverstar raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
“Well… I think that Little Strongheart would have talked if my cousin didn’t intervene.”
“What makes you think so?”
“Well, I tried mentioning the orchards being for our livelihoods. And I heard her say something about it being the ancestral stampeding grounds. We both seemed to want to listen to the other, but my cousin and one of her friends started arguing and we couldn’t get a word in edgewise.” Braeburn took a long drink from his glass.
Sheriff Silverstar nodded sympathetically. “Yeah. I admit Chief Thunderhooves and I may have come to a peaceful agreement sooner. We agreed on that one pink pony’s performance and even shared a joke about it. And when I finalized the arrangement with the pies, he was real friendly about it.” Sheriff Silverstar took a drink himself.
Braeburn chuckled. “Yeah. I like my cousin and some of her friends didn’t seem too bad. But some of them are quite the hoofful.”
“Have they headed off home yet?” Sheriff Silverstar asked.
Braeburn shook his head. “I came here because I wanted the time alone. They’ve a big help, though, and they agreed to help clear the trees for the stampede route.”
Sheriff Silverstar smiled. “That purple unicorn – Twilight Sparkle, I think her name was – seemed like she was pretty nice. And the pink pony has promised to help us bake; Applejack said she was pretty good.”
“I think she is. She helped Applejack make dinner for all of us last night and did a pretty good job of it.”
“Too bad they can’t stay for rebuilding the station,” Braeburn said. “The rainbow one would be helpful for getting the stuff higher up.”
“I was thinking we should rebuild it smaller anyways,” Sheriff Silverstar said. “We’re not that big. A smaller clock tower would suit us fine. It was a nice landmark, but not too many ponies pass through here.”
“Yeah, that’s true. It shouldn’t take very long to rebuild it, and it’d save resources if we built smaller.”
Sheriff Silverstar nodded and they both took a drink from their glasses. The waitress returned with Braeburn’s pie and he paid for it. Sheriff Silverstar eyed it for a bit before ordering one for himself.
“So what brings you here?” Braeburn asked. “You’re not one of the usual crowd here. I figured you being the sheriff and all, you’d try to stay dry.”
Sheriff Silverstar sighed. “You know the worst part about being a sheriff out here? Not much to do. It’s me and two deputies, and really we’re not doing much police-work.”
Braeburn raised an eyebrow at Silverstar’s avoidance of the question. “I’ve never heard of someone drinking because of a lack of work.”
“It happens,” Sheriff Silverstar shrugged. “But it’s mostly ponies who have trouble finding work. I have a job, but… I don’t know. I think I just needed some time out.”
“Don’t you do other stuff than just being sheriff, though?”
“Well, technically I’m the mayor and keep the books in some cases, but really it’s not a lot of work for a small town like this.”
“Yeah. From what I’ve heard from Applejack and her friends, Ponyville is larger and it’s still a small town.”
“We’re new. I have no doubts we’ll grow, too; Appleoosa’s the finest place in this here desert. But…” Sheriff Silverstar sighed.
The Sheriff fell silent for a while. Braeburn had no idea what to say and took a few bites of his pie. It was made with fresh apples from his orchard and tasted as good as always. The waitress came around with Sheriff Silverstar’s pie and the brown pony poked at it with lackluster feeling.
“Something wrong, Sheriff?” Braeburn asked.
“Just call me ‘Silverstar’,” the brown pony said, taking off his black cowpony’s hat. “I’m not on duty; no need for the Sheriff.”
“Well, okay then. Is there something wrong, Silverstar?”
Silverstar poked at his pie. He pushed a piece of apple that fell out of the crust around on his plate. He itched his large handlebar moustache with a hoof. “…it gets kind of lonely out here sometimes.”
Braeburn shrugged, a mild smile on his face. “There’s quite a few friendly ponies in this town, if you ask me.”
Silverstar sighed and ran a hoof through his mane. “I suppose I’m used to bigger towns. I lived in Dodge Junction before coming here. It wasn’t Canterlot or Manehattan, but it was more bustling than this. I had a good amount of friends and plenty of work to do. This slower pacing… it drains me.”
“I can see that,” Braeburn nodded sympathetically. “I’m used to this. I came from Ponyville myself, so I’m used to smaller towns. But this certainly is a step down from Dodge Junction. Woo! I think that’s about the biggest city I could stand to live in.”
“I think I have to agree with you. I lived in Vanhoover for a while and the sights of it all overwhelmed me. Too big for my liking, even though the weather there was fantastic.”
“Vanhoover isn’t that all that big, isn’t it? I mean, it’s just above Baltimare in population, right?”
“Yeah, but Baltimare is the first real big city, and Vanhoover’s bigger than that and pretty dense. Living was good, but the size was too much, so I compromised with Dodge Junction until this whole thing started.”
Braeburn finished his drink and his pie at about the same time. He patted his mouth with a napkin. He would have left, but it seemed a good idea to stay. Silverstar seemed like he needed the company.
“So, why’d you come out here in the first place?” Braeburn asked.
Sheriff Silverstar took a bite of his pie. “The position was open and it was still a small town. I figured why not, you know? Take up a good job with an automatic promotion, help grow a young town into something similar to Dodge Junction… it seemed like a good idea.”
Braeburn didn’t say anything.
“What about you?” Silverstar asked.
“There was a good position available for apples,” Braeburn said. “I could start up my own farm, hire a few ponies, offer food for the town and some jobs… it seemed like a good idea.”
Silverstar nodded. “At least your job has some worth,” he said, sounding resigned.
Now would be a good time to step in. “Sheriff, your job means a lot! Just because you’re not doing much doesn’t mean it’s not important.”
Silverstar took a bite of his pie and did not speak, so Braeburn thought it safe to continue.
“I mean, yeah we don’t have many problems. But I think the fact you’re here helps; no one tries to do anything because we have a competent sheriff on duty. You make the place safer by being here.”
Silverstar smiled. “You don’t know how much I needed that, Braeburn.”
Braeburn smiled back. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up so much about it. You’re worth more than you think you are.”
Silverstar smiled a little wider and put his hat back on his head, covering up his eyes and the faintest trace of a blush.
A waitress came by to pick up their dirty plates and glasses, collected Silverstar’s payment, and asked if they wanted another drink. When they both responded in the negative, the plates were replaced by two glasses of water and they both drank deeply from them. They both drained their glasses in a few gulps and stood up, walking towards the saloon’s exit.
“So, where are you off to now?” Braeburn asked.
“I think I’m just gonna go home,” Silverstar said. “I do have a few things to organize for the next few days. What about you?”
It was night when they stepped outside. The weather had cooled off considerably and there was a bright moon overhead lighting up the town. The stars were out and Braeburn looked up to see them twinkling. Another advantage from the city was how clear and beautiful the nights were, and the desert basin they were in cooled off just enough to make it feel wonderful.
“I’ll probably spend some more time with my cousin and her friends and we’ll come by to help with the work tomorrow.”
“Your help is greatly appreciated, Braeburn,” Silverstar said. “Really.”
Braeburn nodded. He had an idea. “Hey, you want to meet up and have a drink again when we finish rebuilding everything?” he asked. “You seem like you could need it, and I’d probably want one anyways.”
Sheriff Silverstar initially looked surprised, but his look soon softened. “…yeah. I’d do that.”
They parted at the major intersection, Braeburn heading off towards the orchard and his home and Silverstar heading off towards his home in the main town.
Two weeks later, the station was rebuilt with a new brick clock tower. A new family had moved in after the buffalo fiasco and construction on a new house for them was almost finished. The pie stand was created for the buffalo, but it moved to the town’s main stretch and served as a new stall for the family, who sold small jewelry and trinkets.
Sheriff Silverstar meant to talk to Braeburn again, but time had escaped him. The more he worked on getting the house for the new family – getting the building permits, showing them design ideas, coordinating construction teams, disassembling and reassembling the stall, adding their profiles into his records – the more he realized he was essentially a mayor. He didn’t mind too much; it meant his job was more filled, and more fulfilling.
The only pony in town who had as much influence as him was Braeburn, and that was only because he owned the largest farm. He was by no means rich and powerful, but there was a certain respect given to him for his efforts and he was charismatic to boot. Not to mention...
The farm pony had found his way into Silverstar’s head more than once over the past two weeks. They had both been among the initial run of settlers into the area but the Sheriff had never really talked to Braeburn. Silverstar had only known of him by word of mouth; his deputies seemed to know him and he seemed nice enough. He was polite to them, offered them refreshments whenever they passed by on the rounds, and often talked with them just because.
It had gotten to the point where Silverstar quite nearly walked over to Braeburn’s house himself to talk. But two things prevented him: it might have been an invasion of privacy to just come over like that uninvited, and Braeburn himself was often busy with work, either in the orchards or helping rebuild the station.
But a little over two weeks passed and Sheriff Silverstar finally found a break in his schedule and felt enough energy to go have a drink again. He waited until some of the edge of the heat had come off and headed out towards the Salt Block Saloon.
Silverstar headed inside the saloon and looked around. It was crowded as usual, with plenty of ponies eating and drinking. He eventually found Braeburn in a darker corner, face glowing with heat, yet looking seemingly as chipper as ever. He walked over and sat down across from them and Braeburn called a nearby waiter over. They both ordered the same thing: bourbon and soda with a slice of pie, and a glass of water for afterwards.
There was a long silence where Silverstar took off his hat and set it aside, settling himself into the chair, but neither one seemed quite sure to say. This shocked Silverstar, considering the younger pony was usually filled to the brim with exuberance and vitality. He passed it off as working in the fields all day, hard work that would tire any pony out.
“I was beginning to think you wouldn’t show up,” Braeburn said.
“I finished my work two days ago, really,” Silverstar replied. “I just haven’t had the energy.”
“Oh, that’s fine,” Braeburn said, waving a hoof as though pushing the issue out of sight. “I slept most of yesterday myself.”
Silverstar looked around awkwardly. Despite actually agreeing to Braeburn’s offer, he still wasn’t quite sure what to talk about. He knew next to nothing about the farm pony, and he was pretty sure Braeburn knew nothing about him. “So… did you enjoy your visit with your cousin?”
“Yeah. ‘Twas a shame they couldn’t stay longer, but they had their own business back in Ponyville to take care of.”
“That’s… nice.” That subject didn’t take too long to exhaust…
Thankfully, the farm pony quickly took up the slack. “Hey, have you had a chance to talk to the newcomers lately?”
“Bits and pieces while we were going over their house. Sterling Chain is the one setting up the stall, Jade Star may be looking for work or helping her husband, and their son Rapidfire is joining the post and may be good enough for the rodeos.”
The waiter brought them their bourbon and soda and pie. For a few moments, the two were silent as they picked at their food and sipped at the drink. Silverstar did try and keep himself dry as sheriff, but the drink was smooth and refreshing and he rather liked it.
“Are they earth ponies, pegasi, or unicorns?” Braeburn asked between bites.
Silverstar hummed and thought about it, scratching his chin. “Sterling Chain’s a unicorn, Jade Star’s an Earth pony, and Rapidfire’s a pegasus.”
“Might be nice to see if Rapidfire would be good for a buckball team,” Braeburn mused. “I remember playing it a lot back home, and I’d like to start up a team here, too.”
“I almost tried out for buckball back in Dodge Junction myself. Practiced a couple hours a day for getting myself ready. But I became a sheriff and worked more than I do now, and Cherry Jubilee ended up getting the spot. Can’t remember if she still plays, though…” Silverstar trailed off, lost in thought, but it didn’t come back to him.
Braeburn thought about that for a while, then his face lit up like he had an idea. “If we do start up the team, you could be my second. You know, if I’m sick or injured, you can take over for me.”
“Really?” Silverstar found himself flustered. He couldn’t tell if it was the suddenness of the statement, or if it was because Braeburn seemed to genuinely mean it. “Gosh, I mean, that’d be nice. I’d need to practice some more, though.”
“One of these days, when we’re seriously considering making a buckball court, I’ll start getting you back in the groove. It’s not that hard to pick back up.”
Silverstar chuckled. “I hope I have the same strength I did back then. I mean, I’m not an old stallion by any means, but I’m older than you.”
“The pony who invented and first played buckball was an elderly unicorn who loved sports and wanted a way to stay involved. He made the game because while buckball required speed and precision, the unicorn’s job didn’t require as much physical prowess so he could play without overworking himself.”
“Yeah, but I’m an Earth pony. Who, you know, needs to use their hooves and strength.”
“All I’m saying is don’t count yourself out. Why, I’ve seen stallions far older than you playing buckball. Sure the games are quieter, but it’s still played.”
Silverstar shrugged, but had a smile on his face. “Alright, then. Once we get ideas for a buckball court, you can help me practice again. If you’re okay with it, of course.”
“I’d be delighted.” Braeburn tipped his hat.
They both took a few bites of pie and a few sips of their drink; even Braeburn seemed to have nothing to say and they ate in silence. Silverstar decided right now it was best if Braeburn initiated conversation, his own attempts going to dead ends, and so kept to himself.
Which gave him ample time to survey the pony across from him. Golden coat and mane, a bit above average size for normal Earth ponies, bright green eyes. Working in the Apple orchards had given him a fine physique, and yet his vibrant nature and honestly kind disposition kept him well in favor of everypony in Appleoosa. There was something about his air that could have made him a pretty colt in his younger days, but now even Silverstar had to admit he was actually handsome, and his broad chest and decently muscled back hinted at strength underneath the softer surface.
Silverstar suddenly shook his head violently. While it was fine to evaluate Braeburn’s particular merits, he hadn’t entirely wanted it to go down that road. Thankfully, it seemed the farmer hadn’t noticed, and he kept on eating without care.
“Did I ever tell you I went to Canterlot College on an athletic scholarship for buckball?” Braeburn asked after a few moments more.
Silverstar shook his head. “I don’t believe so. But wow… I’ve heard it’s hard to get in there. You got pretty lucky by the sounds of it. Were you there just for buckball or did you have a major?”
“Majored in Agriculture with a minor in Environmental Science and graduated cum laude. Kind of a tradition in the Apple family; any Apple who goes there picks those two in one way or another. The only ones who haven’t are the Apples of Ponyville, though I’d say my cousin Big Macintosh is one of the smartest ponies I know.” Braeburn hummed in thought and seemed to scrutinize Silverstar for a moment. “Let me guess: you said you were in Vanhoover for a while, yes? Did you go to UE Vanhoover for police training or law?”
“Well, I did live in Vanhoover for a while, but we moved to Dodge Junction kind of early on. I finished school in Dodge Junction and did the six-month training there for sheriff’s duty. I’ve thought about going on and studying law, but I think I prefer the role of sheriff more than I would trying to be a lawyer.”
“Fair enough.”
Silverstar felt mildly embarrassed. “Uh… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s ‘UE’ again?”
“Oh, University of Equestria,” Braeburn answered like it was nothing. “It’s the normal state-funded college system. Canterlot University’s more of a private thing. But they sure do love their buckball; I don’t think I would have even gone to UE Canterlot if I didn’t get the scholarship.”
“Oh yeah… I remember reading a newspaper article from the Daily Corral that they were supposed to be building a new campus in Dodge Junction soon. But I guess the name of the place didn’t stick.”
“Hey, if they bring it back here, you could go on the weekends and get a degree. Get something like a paralegal major or a Criminal Justice major and you could get an extra boost in pay.”
Silverstar pulled on his moustache as he thought. That did sound like a good idea; might even bring in more ponies and jobs to Appleoosa, and more deputy undersheriffs for him. “That’s not a bad idea. I guess I’ll keep a look out for when they’re accepting applications.”
“You should get some sort of scholarship, too,” Braeburn added. “Being a sheriff and all, it could count for job training.”
Silverstar found himself laughing. “Are you a shill for them, by any chance?”
Braeburn laughed, too. “No, I swear. I just think it’d be a good idea, that’s all.”
They laughed for a while longer. Silverstar found he was warming up to the younger farm pony; Braeburn was exactly as kind and personable as his deputies said he was. He wondered why they hadn’t exactly talked before, as Braeburn was very easy to talk to and Silverstar actually talked quite a bit more than he expected to around him.
Their waiter came by and picked up their plates and empty alcohol glasses, replacing them with the glasses of cool water. Instead of downing it in a few gulps as they had before, they sipped at them, enjoying the cool air and lively atmosphere.
A pony had sat down at the piano in one corner of the saloon and began to play a bouncy tune. Ponies were getting up and dancing like it was one of the Wild West dances, tables and chairs moved out of the way as the patrons stamped their hooves and twirled around to the beat. Other tables had conversations that were loud and exciting, telling jokes and stories. The place was boisterous but happy; it was a little oasis in the desert, a little safe-haven from the heat and stress of outside.
Silverstar looked over to Braeburn. For a while, he watched the farm pony tapping his hoof to the beat as they sipped at their water. He was surprised the farm pony didn’t immediately spring up and dance. He almost expected it with how much energy he had.
But, when they had finished their water and Silverstar got up to go, so did Braeburn.
“Well, I’ve got some papers to finish,” Silverstar said. “I’m helping Sterling Chain with his business permits tomorrow, and they need to be off on tomorrow’s mail train to Dodge Junction.”
“Yeah,” Braeburn agreed, walking out with Silverstar. “I’ve got a long day tomorrow; we harvested a few apple trees early for the pies, but I wanted to let the rest sit and ripen a little more. I’ll be spending the next few days in the orchard.”
A cool, gentle breeze met them outside the saloon as they walked down the street. Silverstar saw Braeburn close his eyes and smile as he let the air flow through his mane and coat.
“Seems like the heat’s backing off a little earlier,” Braeburn said. “Hopefully it stays that way for a while.”
“I’ve heard they’re trying to schedule a shower pretty soon,” Silverstar said. “Not too long after your harvest, as a matter of fact.”
“Well, so long as they do it after the harvest, I’ve got no complaints.”
The two ponies walked towards the intersection in the road where they split off. But instead of leaving and going each their own route, they stopped and faced each other. Silverstar found himself wanting to say something but unable to actually spit it out, and Braeburn seemed almost the same way.
“Well, that was fun,” Silverstar said lamely.
“Yeah, yeah it was,” Braeburn replied. “Um… I guess I’ll send a note around with the post about doing this again sometime?”
Silverstar nodded. “That would… I’d like that.”
The two ponies smiled at each other. Both turned around and started heading off in the direction of their homes, but Silverstar stopped after a few paces and watched Braeburn walk down the road and didn’t stop until he was out of sight.
