Sweetie Belle screamed.
"Mister Cliff is alive?" she shrieked, grabbing hold of Apple Bloom with her trembling front hooves. "I thought Chalk said he was dead!"
"Sweetie Belle, it's just a story! Take it easy!" exclaimed Apple Bloom, hugging her unicorn friend, although she seemed rather shaken herself.
Scootaloo had reared up dramatically onto her hind legs, beating her wings to keep her balance. "Wow, Sweetie Belle... I didn't mean to scare you so much." She brought her front hooves back down to the floor, hard enough to jostle the oil lamp off the table. The wick of the lamp blew out as the lamp was upended, plunging the clubhouse into darkness.
Apple Bloom and Sweetie Belle screamed together, clutching each other tightly. Scootaloo groaned. "Come on, you guys! So we didn't notice how late it was. Nothing terrible is about to happen!"
Just then, a string of heavy hoofbeats pounded against the door to the clubhouse. Scootaloo vaulted over the table and huddled with her friends as all three of them screamed in terror.
Moonlight flooded into the clubhouse as Big Macintosh shouldered open the door, rushing inside. "Apple Bloom? Girls? What's goin' on?"
All three fillies pressed themselves against Big Macintosh's legs, clinging tightly to him. "Big Macintosh! It's you!" gasped Apple Bloom, pressing her head against his flank.
"Well, of course it's me," drawled Big Macintosh, peering down at the fillies with a quizzical look. "Who else would it be?"
Scootaloo managed to look guilty, and disentangled herself from Big Macintosh's leg. "I, um... might have been telling some scary stories... um, what time is it?"
"It's past suppertime. Come on, you two had better run on home. Your parents will be worried."
Sweetie Belle peered out past Big Macintosh, to the lonely farmland illuminated by the moon. "Um, Big Macintosh? Do you think maybe you could walk me and Scootaloo home?" Shadows were moving in the fields, which were probably just apple trees blowing in the wind, but any of them could have been a crazed rock farmer stallion.
Big Macintosh looked over the fields, thinking about his warm, comfortable bed, and then back at the fillies. "Eeyup."
The next day was Friday, the last day of school for the week. Apple Bloom trotted into the school yard about half an hour before the morning bell would ring, deep in thought. The idea that there were ponies like Hoof Cliff in Equestria had shaken her to her core. She remembered Nightmare Moon, of course, but she was a monster – Princess Luna turned to evil, and locked in the moon for a thousand years. Applejack had told her about Discord, too – another ancient monster, responsible for the day of chaos on the farm that she tried to forget. But Hoof Cliff was just a pony. He looked like any other pony. There could be a hundred ponies just like him in Equestria, or even in Ponyville.
She was so lost in her thoughts that she failed to hear the sound of hoofsteps behind her, until something cold and slimy landed in her mane. Shrieking, she spun around, shaking her head frantically. Pipsqueak, the new colt from Trottingham, was standing behind her, his teeth gripping a paper bag that had contained the frog that was now clinging to her mane, croaking indignantly. Behind him, Snips and Snails guffawed loudly. "Way to go, new colt!" called Snips, while Snails stomped his hooves approvingly. Pipsqueak only grinned apologetically around the paper bag in his mouth.
Apple Bloom snorted angrily. "Pipsqueak!" she snarled, rearing back on her hind legs. "What the hay was that for?"
Pipsqueak dropped the bag and flattened himself against the ground. "I'm sorry, Apple Bloom!" he babbled, tripping over his words in his haste. "Snips and Snails said I had to do it because I'm the new colt and I'm really sorry and please don't kick me!"
Apple Bloom brought her hooves down in front of Pipsqueak with a crash. "Then make sure you don't..." she began, then looked down at the quivering colt in front of her, and at her own hooves.
Suddenly she felt very small.
"... I have to go," she squeaked, then galloped off towards Cheerilee's office. The frog hopped out of her mane and wandered off in the direction of the river, while Pipsqueak slunk back to his unicorn friends.
"Miss Cheerilee? I really need to talk to you," gasped Apple Bloom as she burst into Cheerilee's office. The teacher was gathering papers for the day's lesson, but stopped when she saw Apple Bloom's distress.
"Of course, dear. Sit down, have some water. Did somepony put something in your mane?" asked the older earth pony, doing her best to make Apple Bloom comfortable.
"What? Oh, yeah, but that's not what I wanted to talk to you about. I was listening to a story last night, about marriages that go wrong. Like... hitting kind of wrong."
Cheerilee blinked in surprise, walking around her desk to press her head against Apple Bloom's. Even without her cutie mark, the filly seemed to be growing up at a remarkable rate. "You know you mustn't let stories scare you. I don't know who would be telling a young filly such tales. But... I won't say that I haven't heard of such things. Not in Ponyville, but I've heard of it in Manehattan. I suppose you want to know how to avoid being in that situation?"
Apple Bloom nodded, tears welling at the corners of her eyes. "Yes, please, Miss Cheerilee," she whispered.
Cheerilee nodded solemnly, keeping her voice to the tone she used for private conversations rather than her teaching voice. "The most important thing you have to remember, Apple Bloom, is that you are a very special and worthwhile pony. A bad stallion might tell you that you deserve whatever he does to you, but you must remember that you don't. Nopony deserves to be treated that way. And if you need help, you have so many ponies who will do anything to help you in a situation like that. Your brother and sister, the Crusaders, your other friends... I'm sure Applejack could even get word to Princess Celestia if you were in a truly dire situation. And..." Cheerilee paused, nudging her head against Apple Bloom's again, "even once I'm not your teacher anymore, all you'd have to do is call on me and I'd be there to help you. So never forget that there are ponies who can help you."
Apple Bloom had started crying quietly as she listened to Cheerilee, leaning against her. "Thank you, Miss Cheerilee... that's... that's real good to know... but that ain't what I'm afraid of."
Cheerilee drew her head back in surprise. "It's not, dear?"
Apple Bloom shook her head. "I... I know I'm the strongest filly in my class... an' I'm stronger than all the colts, too, and I did kick Silver Spoon the other day, and this morning Pipsqueak thought I was going to kick him, and... am I a bad pony?"
Cheerilee threw her front legs around Apple Bloom's shoulders, holding her close. "Oh, Apple Bloom," she assured her, feeling tears welling in her own eyes. "You are the most kind-hearted filly I've taught in years. Miss Zecora told me about how you went to see her in the forest when nopony else would go near her. You help Twist with her mathematics and Snips with his reading, and I've even seen you help Diamond Tiara with her craft projects when she lets you. And the way you stand together with the Crusaders is... I've never seen anything like it in all my years as a teacher. You are a wonderful filly, and you're going to be a wonderful mare, and I will be so proud to have been your teacher.
"But you do think with your hooves too often," she continued, drawing back to regard Apple Bloom critically. "Fighting with Scootaloo is one thing, it's to be expected when she's aspiring to be like Miss Rainbow Dash, but I think you should be gentler with Sweetie Belle. She wasn't brought up to be as rough and tumble as you and Scootaloo, and I think she only goes along with it because you're her friends. As for Silver Spoon, you simply must remember that nothing a pony does means that she deserves for you to kick her." She sighed, looking out of her window towards the playground. "When you spend your whole life with a pony – a parent, a child, a sister or a husband – that pony will do things that will make you want to kick them. There will be times when that pony aggravates you more than anything else in Equestria, but that can't mean that you stop loving them. And you should never hurt the ones you love. And even the ponies you don't love don't deserve violence. Do you understand all that, dear?"
Apple Bloom nodded, wiping her eyes with Cheerilee's handkerchief. "I think so, Miss Cheerilee. I'll try to be less violent from now on, I promise. Thank you, Miss Cheerilee."
Cheerilee smiled. "Well, of course, Apple Bloom. If I couldn't help fillies like you become better ponies, I wouldn't deserve this." She gestured to the smiling flowers on her flank. "Now come along, class is about to start."
The Crusaders gathered at the clubhouse again that afternoon, having obtained permission for a sleepover that night. Sweetie Belle brought enough blankets for everypony, while Apple Bloom rustled up enough hay and snacks to keep them happy until noon the next day. Scootaloo packed a second oil lamp for the clubhouse, wanting to avoid a repeat of the previous night's terror.
"I think I'll cut back on the scary stories for a while, once we're done with this one," mused Scootaloo as they walked up the clubhouse ramp, laden with their supplies for the sleepover. "I'd forgotten how easily scared you two are."
"Us?" objected Sweetie Belle, dumping her pile of blankets on Scootaloo's head. "You wanted Big Macintosh to walk us home just as much as I did!"
Scootaloo staggered into the corner and shook off the blankets. "Alright, but you'd better not tell anypony about that, especially not Rainbow Dash! Anyway, Cheerilee doesn't want me reading any more horror stories until I'm older."
Apple Bloom looked guilty. "Oh, sorry. I think that's my fault. I told Cheerilee I'd been listening to some scary stories and I reckon she must have guessed who was telling them. I didn't get you into trouble, did I?"
Scootaloo shook her head, her purple mane swishing from side to side. "I'm not in trouble, but I think Miss Twilight might be. Guess that means no more of those books. And I was just about to borrow The Necromancer of the Everfree Forest, too..."
Sweetie Belle had already arranged the blankets so that she and Apple Bloom could lie down with a good view of Scootaloo, who was given pride of place in the armchair. It occurred to Apple Bloom that their storytelling nights had gone on for almost a week, without the possibility of a storytelling cutie mark coming up in conversation. She was about to suggest the idea when Scootaloo draped her black cloak around her shoulders and began her story once more.
"Your wife? I don't know who you mean. Ain't nopony here who's anypony's wife."
Hoof Cliff pushed his way into the farmhouse, shoving past Big Macintosh as he stood in the doorway, seeming rather dazed. "Don't give me that, you tree-kicker! I just hired a stallion for my winter harvest and he told me he'd seen my wife Chalk living here. Where is she?"
Big Macintosh snorted in anger as Hoof Cliff mentioned Chalk's name. "You're Chalk's husband? She said you were dead! If you ain't, then you ain't welcome here. She don't want to see you."
Hoof Cliff had trotted into the kitchen, his head swinging from side to side as he looked for his wife, but turned to face Big Macintosh as he spoke. "She's my wife! I've a right to see her and a right to take her home! Are you going to stand between a stallion and his lawful wife?"
Big Macintosh looked the intruder up and down. Chalk hadn't exaggerated his physique – he was taller than Big Macintosh, with muscles like horseshoe iron, particularly in his front legs. Beneath his oilskin cloak, Big Macintosh could see the mark of a hoof smashing a boulder to pieces on his flank.
Big Macintosh fixed his front hooves on the floor under him, meeting Hoof Cliff's gaze resolutely. "Eeyup."
"Then may the Nightmare take you!" snarled Hoof Cliff, raising a hoof to strike Big Macintosh. He stopped abruptly, though, and Big Macintosh heard the sound of hooves shuffling into the kitchen behind him. He turned to see Chalk standing in the doorway to the dining room, with Granny Smith behind her in a dressing gown and slippers.
"Hoof Cliff!" exclaimed Chalk, her eyes white with fear. "Why are you here? I'm not going anywhere with you!" She stood her ground, not backing away from her husband even though her hooves trembled.
"And I'm not going anywhere without you!" retorted Hoof Cliff. "You're my wife and you'll do as I say! Put this foolishness to rest and come home!"
Big Macintosh growled softly, starting to scrape his front hoof along the wooden floor of the kitchen. "She said she ain't goin' nowhere with you, Mister Cliff. She don't belong to you no more."
Hoof Cliff snorted in anger, then darted forward, pushing Big Macintosh aside with his shoulder as he lunged for his wife.
An almighty crack rang out through the kitchen as Big Macintosh threw his weight onto his front hooves and thrust his back legs out with all of his might. His hooves struck Hoof Cliff's chest and slammed him against the rear wall of the kitchen, shaking the plates on their shelves. The blow would have shattered the bones of a pegasus or stopped the heart of a unicorn, but the huge earth pony stallion was left gasping on the floor, struggling to stand.
"I SAID, SHE DON'T BELONG TO YOU NO MORE!" bellowed Big Macintosh, whirling around to face the other stallion. "She's her own pony, and if she don't want to go nowhere with you, then she ain't going nowhere with you!" His ears lay flat against his head, and he snorted in rage as he raised his front hooves, glaring at the pony on the floor before him.
Hoof Cliff dragged himself up onto his knees, and turned his gaze from Big Macintosh to Chalk. "That's it, then, wife? You're going to abandon your home and your duties, everything you swore to when you married me?"
Chalk stepped up to Hoof Cliff and brought a hoof down in front of his muzzle. "Sweet Apple Acres is my home now, husband," she spat, looking down on him with contempt. "You can go back to Clifftop Grange and spend the rest of your life there for all that I care. And if you show your face around me again, I'll split it like a pebble."
Hoof Cliff looked from the hard face of his wife to the furious stallion who stood by her, hooves poised to strike. "The Nightmare take you both, then!" he snarled, hauling himself up onto his hooves. "May she bring you as much misery as she brought me!" Under the baleful glare of the inhabitants of Sweet Apple Acres, he limped into the hallway and out into the howling blizzard. The front door slammed behind him with a thud that echoed through the farmhouse.
Chalk stared at the door as it slammed shut, an expression of disbelieving wonder on her face. "He's gone. He's really gone."
She turned to Big Macintosh and pressed her head against his shoulders, sighing happily. "You kept me safe from him, just as you said you would. I can't thank you enough, Big Macintosh... Big Macintosh?" she asked, looking up at him when she realised he wasn't embracing her in return.
Big Macintosh looked back down at Chalk, his mouth set in a hard line. "You told me your husband was dead," he stated dully.
Granny Smith hobbled over to the pair. "Don't you be starting with that nonsense now, grandson," she began, but Big Macintosh cut her off.
"No, Granny, this is important. Pa wouldn't have approved of this none." Turning back to Chalk, he continued. "You told me your husband was dead. You lied to me. You're a married mare, and that means what we did weren't right."
Chalk looked crestfallen, her ears drooping dejectedly. "But I... if Hoof Cliff found out where I was... I had to keep myself safe."
"Did you think I would send you back to him?" asked Big Macintosh, taking a step back from his lover. "Did you think I would make you go home to be a 'good wife'?"
Chalk cast her gaze down. "I did. Everypony in Cliffside would have done the same. Once I knew you were different, I... I was afraid that what we have would end... that you'd end it."
Big Macintosh nodded grimly. "Eeyup. I would have. Pa taught me not to lie to other ponies, and not to fool around with a married mare. I can't do this no more."
The large stallion turned and walked from the kitchen, settling himself in Applejack's bedroom and closing the door. The two mares looked at each other, with nothing to say.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, the previous day's allotment of snow now blanketing the ground. Big Macintosh opened the shutters and groaned as he squinted out over the brilliantly white landscape, thinking about the events last night's storm had brought. Hoof Cliff, every bit the dangerously unstable stallion Chalk had made him out to be, except that he was still alive. Which made Chalk an adulterer, and him...
Well, Pa would never have approved of it, he knew that for sure.
Was what he had with Chalk over, then? It had to be. It wasn't right to carry on with a married mare, and she'd lied to him. He had trusted her, and then this had happened. It simply wasn't right.
Sighing heavily, he hauled himself out to the kitchen, where Granny Smith was stirring a pot of porridge over the hearth. "Morning, Granny," he muttered, looking around the kitchen. "Chalk not up yet?"
"I thought I'd let her sleep," replied Granny Smith, turning from her work to regard her grandson. "After everything that happened last night, I didn't reckon I should be the one to wake her up. I'll leave that to you."
"Granny," Big Macintosh objected, hanging his head. "What else could I have done? We were doing the wrong thing, and she knew it and she didn't tell me."
"And can you blame her?" asked Granny Smith. "Can you put the blame on her for wanting to leave that no-good husband of hers behind, to forget about the biggest mistake she ever made? For wanting a new life away from that rotten stallion and that rotten town she came from?"
"But that don't make it right, Granny. Pa wouldn't have –"
"Your pa was a darned foal of a pony, Big Macintosh."
Big Macintosh stared at his grandmother, his mouth hanging open. "Granny! How can you say that?"
"Because he was my colt. I foaled him, and I raised him, and I loved him, and I buried him, and I'll say what I like about him. He was a good stallion, and he found a good wife and raised two good children, but he was a darned foal sometimes."
Big Macintosh blinked slowly, shaking his head. "But he taught me everything I know! He taught me how to be a good stallion. A proper stallion."
"Did he teach you how to be happy, grandson? Way I remember it, he taught you rules and he taught you how to work yourself to death. You and your sister both work too hard, and you take too much weight on your own backs. That's fine when it comes to the farm, that's how we keep our noses above water, but you work your hearts too hard too. You're too keen to do everything the way your ma and pa taught you, and they done taught you well, but you've got to be your own ponies now."
"But I..." began Big Macintosh. "I gotta... do what Pa said... gotta be a good pony. I don't wanna let him down..."
The big stallion lumbered over to his grandmother and pushed his head against her mane, finally crying the tears he had been holding back since his parents' death. "I just miss them both so much, Granny. I don't know what to do now that they're gone, except be the stallion of the house the way Pa taught me. But I'll never be the stallion he was. I miss him..."
Granny Smith ran her teeth through her grandson's mane, nickering soothingly to him. "I miss them too, grandson. Your ma was like a filly to me, after your aunt moved out west with her husband. She and your pa were all I had after your grandpa died, and burying your own foals is the worst thing in the world a pony can have to do.
"And it's good that you're trying to do what your pa wanted. But what he wanted more than anything else was for you and Applejack to be happy. And you ain't been happy this last year except for when Chalk came and made you happy. And letting her walk out of your life ain't what your pa would want, no matter what he said when he was alive."
Big Macintosh nodded slowly. "You're right, Granny. I can't let her go now. Not after everything we've been through. Especially not after last night. She's just made her own life right, now I gotta let her make mine right too."
Granny Smith watched her grandson proudly as he walked from the kitchen, towards the bedrooms. A minute later, though, he rushed back with a piece of paper between his teeth.
"She wasn't there, Granny. Just a note from her." Big Macintosh laid the note on the kitchen table, and the two ponies read it in silence.
"Dearest Big Macintosh,
I have made so many mistakes. I have lied to you, more than once, and made a dishonourable stallion out of you through my deception. You have been nothing but kind and generous to me, and the hospitality of your household has made these past months the happiest of my life.
I love you, Big Macintosh, and I want you to be happy. I don't deserve the happiness you have brought me if it comes at the expense of your own. You are the best stallion I have ever known, and you deserve better than a broken mare like me. I hope you can spend your life with somepony who deserves you.
Yours,
Chalk Cliff"
Big Macintosh stared at the letter, then out towards the door. "She could be anywhere by now, Granny. She probably left in the night." He shook out his mane, agitated.
"Simmer down, grandson," muttered Granny Smith. "She ain't taken nothin' from the larder, so she's gonna have to buy food in Ponyville if she wants to go anywhere. You might be able to catch her in town still. You'd better hurry, though. She oughtn't be out in this cold by herself."
Big Macintosh had galloped out the front door almost before Granny Smith finished speaking. She sighed and turned back to her cooking.
"Especially in her condition."
Big Macintosh thundered across the snowy ground, through Sweet Apple Acres, into Ponyville. There were no stalls in the market at this early hour in the middle of winter, but the scent of baking bread and cake drifted from Sugarcube Corner, whose door was closed against the cold but clearly marked with a bright purple "OPEN!" sign.
The bell above the door jangled as Big Macintosh pushed his way inside, and the bright yellow proprietor greeted him cheerfully. "Welcome to Sugarcube Corner! How can I... oh, Big Macintosh, it's you!" continued Carrot Cake. "It's a good thing you're here."
"Is Chalk here?" gasped Big Macintosh, leaning against the door frame. "I thought she might have stopped in to buy food on her way out of town..."
"She's upstairs, with Cup and Pinkie," replied Carrot Cake. "You should get up there."
Carrot Cake looked concerned, but Big Macintosh didn't stop for long enough to ask why, as he clattered up the stairs to Pinkie Pie's bedroom. Chalk was sitting up in Pinkie's bed, coughing into a cloth that Pinkie held to her mouth. Mrs Cake was in Pinkie's tiny kitchenette, brewing a pot of tea.
Big Macintosh rushed to the bed, kneeling on the other side from Pinkie Pie. "Chalk! What happened to you?"
Chalk looked up at Big Macintosh as he moved into her field of vision. Her eyes seemed to shine with the sweat streaking her face, which Pinkie mopped up as best she could. "Big Macintosh?" she murmured, blinking in surprise. "What are you doing here? I thought you wanted me gone! After I lied to you so much..."
Big Macintosh pressed his head against Chalk's neck, sighing in relief to have found her again. "I don't want you to go, Chalk. You're... that is to say, we're... I love you," he finally blurted out, turning his head to gaze into her eyes. "I love you and I don't want you to go. You're the best thing that's ever come into my life, and I don't want to lose you."
Chalk nuzzled Big Macintosh's neck gently, then sat up straight to drink the mug of herbal tea that Mrs Cake had brought to her. "I love you too, Big Macintosh. Even without all of the wonderful things you've done for me – given me a home, sent my husband on his way – I would still love you. You're everything I've ever wanted in a stallion." She paused and shook her head, then took another slurp of tea. "No, you're everything I should have wanted. I married what I thought I wanted, and look where that got me. I am so sorry that I lied to you, my love... what can I do to make things right?"
Big Macintosh pressed his lips against his beloved's cheek, noticing how hot her flesh was. "Just be honest with me, that's all I want. And come home with me and be... well... you know I'd make you my wife if I could. But we can be... together, and that's what matters." He pressed the back of one fetlock against Chalk's forehead. "You're burning up, Chalk. What's wrong?"
Chalk sighed and turned her head so that Pinkie could mop her forehead with a damp cloth. "I took ill not long after I left Cliffside, Big Macintosh. I don't know if it's from the cold, or the damp... it strikes me when I run too far and have to breathe too deeply. It started to recede when I settled down at Sweet Apple Acres, but it hasn't gone away."
Big Macintosh gave a grateful smile to both Pinkie Pie and Cup Cake, bowing his head to them in thanks for the care they were taking for Chalk. "We'll look after you, Chalk," he promised. "We've just passed through the worst of winter, and things will only get warmer from now on. You're in good hooves here in Ponyville."
Chalk smiled blissfully, reaching up to lay her hoof against Big Macintosh's face. "I know I am. I never want to be anywhere else. And... there's one more bit of news you should know. It's good news, though, or at least I hope it is."
Carrot Cake and his latest customer looked up at the ceiling of the shop, hearing Pinkie Pie's delighted squeal through two intervening floors.
Chalk spent the night in the loft at Sugarcube Corner, with Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie taking turns to care for her. At midmorning the next day, when the sun was high in the sky and shedding what light it could through the clouds, they went home to Sweet Apple Acres, to make their new life away from the spectre of Chalk's past, and to look forward to the new life that would be joining them soon.
Winter passed into spring, only two days behind schedule. Applejack returned to the farm in mid-spring, with documents from the bank detailing their loan, and orders for half of the orchard's worth of saplings already on their way. Applejack and Chalk took to each other immediately, recognising in each other a kindred spirit knowing the value of hard work. The idea of having a new sister certainly appealed to her, and the idea of becoming an aunt even more so.
After the new saplings were planted, the three young earth ponies stood and watched the local bees take to the new blossoms growing on the branches. "Spring is so beautiful in Ponyville," commented Chalk. "Up north, spring just means new grass for the sheep, and a little more rain. Here, it's a whole new world after winter. There are so many colours everywhere, green and red, and white for the apple blooms. I could stand and watch the blooms for hours. So beautiful. So much new life."
Big Macintosh pressed his head against Chalk's, sighing in contentment. "It is beautiful. Don't you miss your own work, though, the rock farming? It must be rough not being able to use your special talent."
Chalk nodded solemnly in agreement, but then Applejack interjected. "Well, there's a field out past the southern cornfield that we were just going to leave fallow for a couple of years. You could set up a little rock farming field down there! Won't hurt the soil none, I'm sure, and it'd be a little bit of extra revenue for the farm."
Chalk brightened up at the idea, and she and Big Macintosh spent the afternoon rolling rocks into the new field, and arranging them in just the right fashion. The theory of rock farming was still a mystery to Big Macintosh, but Chalk assured him that her family had made their fortune in the practice, as had her husband's. When they were finished, the field stood dotted with boulders and smaller rocks in a sort of pleasing, stark symmetry.
Something was missing, though, until Big Macintosh remembered that there was one sapling left in the last shipment that they hadn't been able to fit into the orchard. Soon enough, the young tree was planted as the centrepiece of Chalk's rock garden, its browns and greens providing a warm contrast from the grey, stony field.
"It's perfect," murmured Chalk, leaning against her lover's flank. "This truly feels like the home I've always wanted. I want to live in Sweet Apple Acres for the rest of my life."
"You will, my love," replied Big Macintosh, lipping at her mane. "We all will. You, me and the little one. We'll be a family."
Spring gave way to summer, and the first round of apple harvesting. The weather grew hotter with each passing week, but instead of responding favourably to the warmer, drier air, Chalk's cough grew worse, and her fever kept her in bed one day out of every four. She still worked when she could, though, drawing the cart full of apples that Big Macintosh and Applejack had bucked down. She walked down to her rock garden at least once a week, to shift the stones around and watch the apple blooms blowing in the breeze.
Summer turned to autumn. Granny Smith did her best to keep Chalk's strength up with the very best vegetables and grains, but between her illness and her pregnancy, she could not help with Applebuck Season, finding herself confined to the farmhouse for most of the season. The most she could do was walk down to the fields where Big Macintosh and Applejack were working, and bring them the food that Granny Smith had prepared for them. Her garden still brought her joy, even though she could do little but walk among the stones and watch the growth of her tree.
By the time Chalk was ready to foal, her fever had risen and was refusing to break. Applejack had fetched Nurse Redheart from town, and Pinkie Pie had joined them on the way back, as if she had somehow known that the foaling would be that night. Big Macintosh and Pinkie Pie took turns keeping vigil by Chalk's side in their bedroom while Redheart tended her as best she could. When Chalk slipped into a shallow sleep, the nurse drew Big Macintosh aside.
"I believe your foal will live, Big Macintosh," she said without preamble. "All of the signs are for a healthy foal. I don't think Chalk's illness will pass to her child, either, as long as she doesn't nurse it herself. She has the strength left for a successful foaling."
Big Macintosh nodded slowly. "What about Chalk, then?"
Nurse Redheart shook her head.
"I am so sorry, Big Macintosh. This rot has been consuming her lungs for over a year, by my estimation. If she had found good medical attention when it first took hold of her, she may have thrown it off. But now... I suspect that there was nothing to be done for her since before she arrived in Ponyville."
The large stallion blinked. "She was a dead mare walking all this time? Everything we did together... that was all the time she had left? Did she even know?"
Nurse Redheart shrugged sadly. "Probably not. She is very strong. A pegasus in her condition would not have lived this long, nor would an earth pony without her stamina and otherwise good health. She has fought the infection very well, but... even without the foal, I wouldn't have expected her to survive another winter. And the foaling will be the end of her, I'm afraid."
Big Macintosh was about to ask the nurse another question, but Chalk stirred on the bed and called out to him. "Big Macintosh? Are you there?"
He knelt by the side of the bed again, pressing a cool, damp cloth against Chalk's sweat-stained muzzle. "Right here, my love. I'm not going anywhere."
Chalk gazed up at her beloved stallion, her eyes shining with sweat and tears. "What does the nurse say? Will our foal be alright?"
Big Macintosh nodded. "Fine and healthy, she thinks. It'll come soon, and we'll be ready." He cradled her head as she coughed into another rag, leaving it a bloody mess.
"And what about me, darling? Am I dying?"
The stallion looked across the bed to Nurse Redheart, then over to his family and Pinkie Pie, clustered outside the bedroom door. If there was one thing his father had taught him that he'd never put aside, it was the importance of honesty, especially at a time like this. "Eeyup," he told her, tears starting to fill his eyes.
Chalk tilted her head to butt it against Big Macintosh's. "Don't cry, my love. I don't have any regrets. This year, here, with you, has been the best year of my life."
"Mine too, Chalk," murmured Big Macintosh, leaning his head against hers. "Mine too."
Chalk began to whinny in pain, and Nurse Redheart bustled him out of the bedroom, leaving her and Granny Smith to tend to Chalk as the foaling began. In spite of Redheart's assurances, it was the most anxious half hour of Big Macintosh's life, and neither Applejack's company nor Pinkie Pie's tea could soothe his nerves. After what seemed like a hundred years, the nurse beckoned Big Macintosh back into the bedroom.
Chalk sat up in the bed, gazing at a foal with a soft yellow coat, which Nurse Redheart was cleaning with a fresh cloth. The foal's mane and tail were a brilliant red, just like Chalk's. Both ponies looked up at Big Macintosh as he approached the bedside.
"Come and meet our filly, Big Macintosh," Chalk greeted him, smiling weakly. "Look at her. Isn't she perfect?"
Big Macintosh knelt down and placed his muzzle next to his new filly, letting her bat at him with her tiny hooves. He barely remembered Applejack's own foaling, and so the sight of this new life stirred something unfamiliar in him. "She's beautiful, my love. What's her name?"
Chalk turned her head to the bedroom window, looking out over the fields of Sweet Apple Acres. "She's everything I love about this place. Everything beautiful in my life. My little Apple Bloom."
She sat back against the head of the bed, reaching out one hoof to nudge her filly. "You raise her well, Big Macintosh. Help her grow up strong, and tell her that her mother always loved her."
Chalk closed her eyes and curled up on her pillow, drifting off into sleep. Big Macintosh cradled their new filly and sat by her mother, watching her until he could no longer hear her breathing.
Apple Bloom was crying. Not weeping quietly as she had at the end of Sweetie Belle's story, but sobbing out loud, her breathing coming in ragged gasps.
Scootaloo tilted her head towards Apple Bloom, a guilty feeling gnawing at her heart. "Um... Apple Bloom? Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I KILLED HER!" wailed Apple Bloom, throwing her front legs around Sweetie Belle and crying into her mane. "My mother died foaling me and it's my fault!"
Sweetie Belle hugged Apple Bloom tightly. "It's not like that, Apple Bloom!" she reassured her. "Mares die in foaling sometimes... it's not the foal's fault, and she was sick anyway, right, Scootaloo?"
Scootaloo looked anguished, then gestured for Sweetie Belle to keep comforting Apple Bloom as she dashed off towards the farmhouse, wings pumping to drive her scooter as fast as it would go. A few minutes later, she returned leading Big Macintosh and Applejack, who rushed up the ramp into the clubhouse.
Big Macintosh picked Apple Bloom up by the mane and swung her onto his back, where she clung desperately, still sobbing. Applejack gave the other two fillies a stern glance. "Are you two fillin' Apple Bloom's head with crazy ideas about her parents again?"
Scootaloo stared at her hooves. "Maybe," she admitted. "But she really wants to know, Applejack! Why can't you just tell her? Isn't she old enough yet?"
Applejack sighed heavily as she followed Big Macintosh down the ramp. "I don't think she is, but I can see she ain't gonna stop trying to find out, not now that she's got the idea in her head. I reckon it's high time we sat her down and got the whole thing straightened out. Tomorrow mornin', I think. You two might as well come sleep in the farmhouse tonight."
Scootaloo nodded eagerly and started packing their supplies into the trailer, while Sweetie Belle looked up at Apple Bloom, still whimpering on Big Macintosh's back. "Is she going to be alright? I've never seen her like this before."
Applejack trotted alongside Big Macintosh, lowering her head to brush against Apple Bloom's. "She'll be right enough once we get her home. She's with her family, after all."