Ledger Line did a few calculations by the window. His paper was illuminated by the light from his horn and the occasional flashes of lightning from the storm outside, and the rain pounding against the window in front of him beat a fairly constant rhythm.
The rain pounding on the roof, however, beat a loud and dissonant rhythm; and the rain leaking through some of the holes in the ceiling splashed into various pots and other dishware. Already he could hear that it was almost time to change the bowl right behind him, as it would soon be too full of water to catch any more.
Frankly, the dismal weather was aligned perfectly with his mood. He finished his calculations for the second time, and confirmed what he'd already known. He exhaled as he rested his head on the desk. By this time next month, he'd be out of money. Bank ponies were circling like sandsharks. He'd quite literally lose the orchard.
And he had absolutely no idea where to go from here.
A knock at the door made him jump up. His first terrifying thought was that the bankers had come by to demand payment; but then he remembered that even though it was still early afternoon, there would be no chance they'd come out here in the rain with all this mud. In fact, it would take a truly mad pony to be out in this weather.
Not at all comforted by this second thought, he shivered, and then headed out to the parlor. After a steadying breath, he lit his horn and opened the door.
His first impression was that he had been right about the whole mad pony thing. Standing in the doorway was a mare, wearing a hat and a long poncho that covered most of her body. She looked up at the sound of the door opening, and he saw her striking green eyes.
Those eyes flicked around as she looked past him, inside at the peeling wallpaper, and the leaks in the roof, and she whistled. As if suddenly remembering her actual purpose in visiting, she raised a hoof and tipped her hat up. “Afternoon,” she said. She had a gentle accent that sounded vaguely familiar. “I'm looking for Cherry Jubilee; she around?”
Ledger Line shook his head. “Aunt Jubilee passed on a good six months ago.”
The stranger choked. She reached up and tugged her hat down a bit to cover her eyes. “Mighty sorry to hear that,” she said regretfully. “Cherry gave me a chance to get back on my hooves many years ago, and I was hoping to see if she'd let me come back again for a spell. Who's in charge around here now?”
“That'd be me. For now, anyway.” He held out his hoof. “Ledger Line,” he offered.
She returned it. “Applejack.”
He looked down, having felt something weird against his hoof when she’d bumped. On her hoof she wore something like a bracer, made of thick leather. It would have protected the back of her forehoof from… something. One strap trailed up her foreleg and wrapped around her shoulder, where the leather grew thick and padded again, with more straps securing it under her opposite foreleg and ribs. Strange.
He then realized he was still in the doorway. “Oh, uh, come- come in.”
Applejack stepped inside. She glanced around, and shuffled in place. “So, uh, music pony, then?” she tried.
Ledger smiled wryly, having gotten this response for quite literally his entire life (one of the downsides of living in such a musical society). He rotated slightly, showing her his spiral bound pad cutie mark with pencil. “Accountant.”
“Ah. Sorry!”
He briefly wondered if she were apologizing for getting it wrong, or for his profession.
But he didn't have long to think about that. Applejack raised an eyebrow. “You said ‘for now’?” she asked, for clarification.
He shook his head. “We've had some… financial troubles since she passed. I was her closest relative and so I inherited her orchard; but I'm an accountant by trade and I don't really have the skill to keep it growing.”
“I see,” the stranger said slowly. Her eyes flicked up to his horn, and one corner of her mouth may have twitched slightly upwards before her attention turned back to him. “Sounds like you could use the help of a solid earth pony, and I'm as solid as they come.” She hit a hoof against her chest. “Apples are my normal fruit of choice, but I can handle cherries like nopony's business. There room for me here?”
Ledger chuckled darkly. “All the room you want; it's literally only me here.”
Applejack nearly missed a step. “Really?”
He nodded.
Her eyebrows scrunched up in confusion. “What happened to the others?” she asked.
Ledger shrugged weakly. “Ran out of cash, and they moved on to, uh, more fertile ground. Pardon the pun.”
Applejack shook her head, though in disgust or disappointment he couldn't tell. She took off her poncho and hung it up on the nearby hat rack to dry.
He stared. Under her poncho she wore two saddlebags, their straps crossed across her barrel; and in her left saddlebag was what was most definitely a bird. A big brown bird. And if he'd hazard a guess, it was a bird of prey; it had large brown eyes and a curved beak. It turned its head and seemed to glare at him.
He shuddered. Who was this mare?
“Ledger Line?”
Her voice startled him back into the present, and she shook his head. “Oh, right. Follow me. We've got plenty of rooms.” He started trotting down to many of the guest rooms. “Take your pick. Like I said, it's just me here.”
Applejack slowed to a stop as she looked up and down the hallway with doors for bedrooms all along the wall. “Where do you sleep?” she asked.
Strange question… He pointed to the master bedroom at the end.
Applejack nodded. “Fair enough,” she said, turning away and looking in the room furthest from his. She poked her head inside, looked around, and nodded approvingly. She turned back to him. “You making dinner tonight?”
That seemed slightly forward to him; but then again, Cherry Jubilee had always been a welcoming and generous host. Only problem with that was, he was definitely not Cherry Jubilee. “Sure. You like daisy sandwiches, right?”
Applejack laughed.
And then her laughter slowly trailed off as he didn’t join in. “You're serious,” she asked flatly.
Ledger nodded sheepishly. “I’ve never been much of a cook,” he admitted.
Applejack opened her bag to let her bird out. It hopped up onto the bracer on her shoulder, and its curved, sharp claws dug into the leather but were unable to pierce it.
Huh. At least that part started to make sense.
She then dropped her saddlebag onto the ground and turned around to face him. “Your aunt Cherry never taught you anything?”
He scratched the front of his opposite foreleg. “She tried, anyway…”
Applejack chuckled. “Well, hold on to your taste buds, because I’m about to give them the ride of their lives!” She trotted out, her bird still clinging tightly onto her shoulder pad.
Not feeling particularly comforted by any of this, Ledger Line followed her back into the kitchen.
* * *
Applejack was like a wizard in the kitchen. Foods, spices, and cookware that Ledger Line didn't even know had existed in the kitchen she pulled out and used as if they were second nature to her, and soon the whole house smelled just like it did when Cherry Jubilee was there.
And when she was done, the food on the plate that she slid in front of him could only be called a work of art.
“Whoa,” Ledger breathed.
“Tastes better than it looks,” Applejack promised, pulling her own plate closer and picking up a fork. “Dig in!”
Ledger Line needed no further invitation. He picked up his fork and took a bite.
It was a flavor explosion in his mouth.
“Sweet Celestia,” he breathed.
Applejack chuckled modestly. “Glad to see I've still got the touch,” she said, taking her own bite. “There's plenty more where that came from, so eat up!”
And there was. Ledger Line had never had such a meal, especially not on his own. Throughout dinner, Applejack chatted about many things, but Ledger Line noticed that she didn't share many personal details about herself. Still, he mused as he helped her do the dishes, she seemed nice enough, and his stomach was happier and fuller than it had been in a long time. He somewhat regretted not trusting her at first.
For a while, anyway.
She entered her room, carrying with her a plate full of food probably for a midnight snack. She stepped nimbly over the buckets, no longer needed now that the rain had stopped and the setting sun peeked through the clouds. She set her tray down and examined the window, even going so far as to open it and close it again. Seemingly satisfied, she turned around. “You don’t… uh… wander outside at night, do you?”
Ledger Line chuckled. “No, can’t say that I do.” He cast a suspicious eye at the sky. “Especially not when it gets like this.”
“Oh, good.” Applejack sighed, relieved. “Because I get some really bad nightmares at night. Like, really bad. Terrible, bad. Tossing and turning all night bad. And sometimes I go outside to clear my head. So if'n you hear screaming from out there, don't pay it no mind.” And with that cryptic statement, she retreated into her room and shut the door.
She opened it again. “And don't ever go outside, no matter what you hear.” She shut the door.
She opened it again. “Like, at all.” She shut the door.
She opened it again. “And maybe stay in your room all night.” And she shut the door for a final time.
That's it, Ledger Line thought, a cold sweat breaking out on his forehead. I've let a mad mare into Auntie's house and she's going to kill me in her sleep.
Needless to say, though he locked the door and slid a dresser in front of it, he didn’t get much sleep that night.
Especially not when her bloodcurdling screams rent the night as the moon rose.