ROCK CREEK,
WESTERN EQUESTRIA
Despite the notorious regional heat, the night was cool. In the late evening the main street of the small but sprawling town bustled with the last remnants of productive activity for the day; merchants and craftsponies closing up their shops, couples and loners finding their way to the watering hole for a few hours of libations. Others made for the namesake of the town, the bubbling creek running through the north-east hillside
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Serving as the unofficial town center and gathering spot, the doors to The Tipsy Tumbler saloon welcomed all between their swinging shutters. As a chuckling earthpony mare and stallion entered, they were met by the rowdy concert of lively piano music, boisterous laughter, glasses on tables, and the shouting of conversation and argument.
One pair of stallions rose from their seats at a small table, poking each other in the chest with a provocative hoof as they moved towards the exit, absorbed by their dispute of how many alicorns could dance on the head of a pin. In swept a fair young Pegasus maiden, throwing a rag down to wipe the surface for the next patrons, blonde curls bouncing around her face only to be culled back by a few feather tips. Light red fur coated her compact body, outer wings and tail to match her mane, she completed her task with practiced efficiency just in time for the happy new couple to assume the set of chairs beside.
“Anything I can get for you two?” The waitress asked with a friendly antebellum twang, stowing the cloth in the open pocket of her saddlebag, exchanging it for a pencil.
“Oh, just start us off with something light, Holly.” He responded with familiarity.
“Sure thing.” Notating the table and order on a piece of paper wrapped around her left foreleg, Holly fluttered her way back to the bar.
“Thalia, Pair of lime seltzers, please.”
Behind the counter was a mare of jet-black coat that never seemed to stop bustling about. Throwing back her equally dark mane accented by red tips, the subtle beauty of the earthpony might otherwise be masked by the expression of exhaustion and weariness in her ember-colored eyes.
“That it?” The bartender complained inside a long exhalation, huffing an errant bang aside.
“Fer now. Still early in the night.” Holly teased with a wink.
Thalia rolled her eyes back. “Ugh… come back in a minute.”
But the younger mare wasn’t satisfied to leave just yet and posted her forehooves on the bar. “Sugar, you look more wrung out than a dishrag in a tornado, you feelin’ alright?”
“I’m fine, Holly.” Thalia surrendered, leaning her chest on the opposite side. “I can’t tell you how great it is to have you help us out at night after working with your momma all day, but sometimes it’s like the two of us are pushing against the tide.”
“Oh, you know me, hun, I don’t mind. Momma said she don’t want me a’dilly-dallying around the farm all day anyhow. Plus, I like to make a few bits for myself.”
Smirking, Thalia leaned a bit more forward. “Let’s not forget, you get to wait and see if that young Mr. Mesquite Appleachia pays you a visit.”
“Maaaaybe…” Holly blushed, tilting her head in feign discomfort, ending the word with a stifled giggle. “When we first moved out here, Momma said the farm ponies worked the land like we ain’t never seen ponies work before.”
“Tell me about it.” Looking to her left, Thalia spied a large dark unicorn stallion stacking crates of bottles near the storeroom, the muscles of his neck and shoulders flexing as he lifted one in his teeth.
“Even Daddy said when Royal Guard pegasai gots’ta arrest a farmer, they need about 4-to-1 in case they decides’ to put up a fight.” Holly continued in a gossipy whisper.
“And damn don’t Huckleberry Appleachia work that boy hard.”
“Tell me about it.” Using her wings to fan her face, Holly and Thalia shared a conspiratorial giggle.
“Let me make them drinks.” Ducking back behind the counter, Thalia set to work. With deft expertise, she slid two glasses into position, then with her rear leg, bucked the cabinet behind her just enough to cause the bottle of seltzer to rattle off the shelf. It fell onto the same hoof, where she proceeded to juggle it with a two-beat motion to buck it over her shoulder and catch it in her mouth. Depressing the spigot with her right forehoof, she poured the drink across the cups until both were full. A duo of pre-sliced lime cuts later, and the sparkling drinks were on their way.
As Holly passed the other tables, the tray of glasses in her mouth, a trio of eager and ambitious young stallions watched her go, admiring the rare desert flower.
“Yeah, that’s her alright.” One murmured, biting his lip, the other two trading a glance.
“You gonna take your chance tonight?” One of them asked. “Or you worried Mesquite ‘gone come a’walking through them doors and see you sweet-talking his girl?”
Wearing a light brown Stetson to match his coat, the desirous stallion hissed. “That fool ain’t got a claim on her yet, not ‘less he got permission from mommy and daddy.”
The joke nearly caused one of his friends to shoot his drink from his nose as they broke into laughter, Mesquite’s obedience to his parents a poorly kept secret.
“That poor boy!” Cried the third. “Can’t put one hoof wrong ‘round them folks a’his!”
They were still laughing when Holly was making her return trip to the bar. The friends put hooves into the other’s back, ushering him out of his seat with whispers of encouragement.
“Uh, hey there, Miss Holly.” He said, standing up just in time to block her path and nervously fussing with his hat to avoid direct eye contact.
“Yes?” She asked, looking among them. “You boys need another round?”
“Ah, most likely, but we was wonderin’, I mean, I was wonderin’, If you ain’t mind sharing that next round with us.”
Holly’s response caught in her throat, realizing their intent. “That’s mighty nice a’you Jackson, but it’s a busy night and I’m plum loaded with tables to wait on.”
When she tried to skirt around him, he moved with her. “Now I don’t mean to cause a fuss, Miss Holly, but we was just thinking, on account a’you not having too many friends in town, an’ you workin’ so hard, you might wanna sit a spell with us an’ get off yer hooves for a bit.”
It took a moment, but Jackson realized that Holly’s wings were flapping, and looking down, saw that her hooves weren’t even on the floor.
“Er, you know what I’m tryin’ ta say.”
Sparing him a smile, Holly hugger her hooves to her breast. “I appreciate the gesture, but like I said I got work to do.”
Again she made to move, again he blocked. This time she was not so amused. “Jackson, don’t you go makin’ a fool of yourself now.” She firmly suggested.
Undeterred, he postured to hold his ground. “Well what’s so foolish about wantin’ you to spend a little time with me?”
Behind the bar, Thalia was sliding another drink to a patron when she spotted what was going on. Holly was a pretty young thing, and Jackson was known to be a bit too headstrong for his own good sometimes. Glancing over to where the dark stallion was still working, she gave him a sharp whistle to get his attention.
“Dallas…” She nodded over to where Holly was being stalled, and he followed her line of sight, ears twitching as he comprehended what the issue was. Gun metal coat with ebony mane, a patch of hide just behind his right shoulder marred by a series of scars, he was a quiet stallion, but one that carried a no-nonsense presence.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into you tonight.” Holly scolded, hovering just a bit higher in the air to emphasize her irritation. “But I ain’t got the time to-“
“I bet you’d have the time if I were Mesquite.” Jackson’s face hardened, his courtesy broken by his pride.
Appalled, Holly stared at him for a moment, her jaw slack in an expression of shock. His ego offended, he matched her with a spiteful glare.
“If’n you boys ain’t gonna order nothin…” The deep voice resonated behind Jackson. “Miss Holly got plenty of other tables ta’ tend to.”
Turning, Jackson’s eyes landed on a wide, dark chest wreathed by a small chain necklace sporting a pair of dog-tags, then moved up to find a set of cerulean blue irises bearing down on him. Dallas stood still as a rock, waiting to see how the younger buck wanted to handle this.
Jackson’s gaze darted over to his friends who sat wide-eyed. So he lowered his face towards the floor, issuing a manufactured throat-clearing to break the tension. “Ah, yes sir, Mr. Dallas.” He apologized. “Just uh, jus’ tryin’ to be friendly.”
“Hmmpf.” Fluttering past them both, Holly held her chin up.
Jackson winced, but did not meet Dallas’ gaze directly before going back to his seat. The larger stallion snorted, then turned himself back towards his duties.
“Thanks sweetheart.” Thalia smiled, using her tail to swat him on the rump as he passed by. For the next short while, the activity in the saloon resumed its normal ambiance of clattering and bacchanalia. That was until the doors swung open and the ponies closest to the entrance began a wave of silence.
Hoof-steps echoed on the wooden floor as more voices hushed, laughter died down, cups set on tables. Methodically the figure walked through the center of the room, an old and worn pewter grey Stetson hat hung low over his face. But it did little to prevent the stares and covered murmurs that spread outwards from his position like an autumn breeze. Even the piano ceased playing when the grey-furred stallion caught a glimpse out of the corner of his vision.
The stranger reached the bar and saddled into a seat, a satchel tied around his waist. A hoof came up and removed the hat, sitting it down on the counter. Thalia, who had watched the whole surreal experience from where she stood, took him in with cautious civility. “What’ll ya have, stranger?”
“I’ll just have a tall drink of water, if ya please.” He requested with a hoarse voice, staring straight ahead. “I’m feelin’ a might parched.”
She nodded. “Sure thing.” And as she went about positioning a tall glass under a water spout, the rest of the audience slowly resumed their own business.
“Here ya go.” Thalia nudged the drink in front of him. Just as she did so, his left hoof quickly came up and placed itself gently over hers. At this he turned his face full to hers, the right side of his cheek mutilated, the eye deformed and milky, his other a pale blue.
“I’d likewise have one or two questions with ya’ as well.”
Her initial reaction was to gulp, swallowing down a hard lump, struck by his severe countenance. “And just what’s the name of the pony asking those questions?”
“The name’s Hex, ma’am.” He said, fixing his good eye on her.
“And your business?”
“Lookin’ for a fella, name’a Jericho, heard you was familiar, Ms. Thalia.”
She withdrew her hoof from under his, unnerved to hear both names be spoken. Hex took the hint and settled for a long gulp of water.
“How do you know that name?” She asked, dead serious. “Or for that matter, mine?”
He finished his drink with a satisfied breath. “I been on his trail for a few weeks. There’s a bounty on his head, an’ I aim to collect. Word is you and him got history, figured you might know something could help me track him down.”
“Everything all right?” Dallas asked, stepping beside Thalia but staring at Hex. While he was noticeably larger, he got the feeling the stranger wasn’t intimidated easily. And there was of course, the discomforting sight of his face.
“I ain’t mean to cause no fuss, partner, just tryin’ to get pointed in the right di-rection.” Hex took a nonchalant swig of his water to disengage.
Thalia craned her neck to whisper in Dallas ear, to which they both suddenly pivoted backwards. His eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared. He then stepped in between the stranger and Thalia protectively.
“Mr. Hex, I don’t know what you been told, but we ain’t got no business with that villain.”
Hex clicked his tongue, which made a queer sound coming through the missing part of his cheek. “Not presently, Mr. Dallas. But if I understand rightly, you got your own past with that little filly a’his, Capricorn.”
Dallas’ chest swelled at the sound of the mare’s name, a flare of anger in his face.
“Any idea where I might find her? If anypony knows where her old man might be hole’ up, I reckon it be her.”
There was a tension between the stallions like a steel cable, Dallas processing the collision of emotions going on between his head and his heart. An anxious Thalia stepped around, placing a hoof on his chest.
“We haven’t seen either of them in a long time.” She told Hex with a quiver in her voice. “We’ve made a point of that. Now if that satisfies your curiosity Mr. Hex, that about all the thought I want to give those two in one day.”
The bounty hunter nodded, leaning his body away from the bar. “Fair enough.” He said, glancing towards the set of stairs at the back of the room. “Y’all got rooms for rent?”
“We do.”
Hex reached down to his satchel and removed a few bits, tossing them down on the counter. Thalia exchanged the money for a key from an unseen compartment.
“I’ll be in town for a spell to chase down a few leads. If’n ya think of anything might be helpful, y’all know where to find me.”
He tilted back the glass of water to polish off the last of his drink, a small rivulet bubbling down from the gap in his cheek. Replacing the Stetson on his head, Hex hopped off the stool and mosey’d over to the stairs.
Holly shifted her body to the side as he passed her by, she couldn’t help but stare at the grim stallion, eyes wide with mystery. Swallowing a gulp of nerve, she carried on with a tray of empty glasses.
Back behind the bar, Dallas snorted in frustration as he made sure the stranger made no trouble on his way to the rooms.
“I don’t like it either, honey.” Thalia’s voice calmed him just enough to turn his focus away, she somehow always knew how to reach him. “But if he’s right, and they are back in the region, then we’re gonna need to be extra careful.”
Dallas lowered his head, and the couple pressed together. “Do you…” He began, Thalia could practically see the thought working its way down from his brain and through the twitches of muscle in his face. “Do you think maybe we should… leave town?”
The question caught her off-guard, surprised to hear him of all ponies make such a suggestion. For a moment she pondered, wondering just how hurt he must’ve been when he got those scars. “No. We can’t go uprooting our lives every time their names are whispered on the wind. They don’t get to control us like that.”
“You’re right.” Forehead to forehead, he nuzzled her. “But if I do see that crooked horn a’his come through those doors-“
“I know.” She cut him off, smiling tightly caressing the side of his face with a hoof. “You’ll protect me.”
Watching Holly tend to every other table except theirs, Jackson downed the last of his drink and with a frown, threw his payment on the table and got up. “Come on boys.”
“What’s a matter, Jack?” Asked one of his friends as the trio exited the saloon. “That ol’ Dallas got you all shook?’
“Oh hush up, Cassidy!” Jackson scowled. “I’m jus’ tired of sitting in that same bar every night.”
“Yeah, well, you go on and do what you wanna do, Jackson. I’mma head home. Butch?”
The third friend mulled the thought before giving a nod. “Yep, me too. I can feel the touch’a ol’ Sandmane workin’ his magic on me.”
“Suit yerselves.” Dismissed Jackson, spitting to the side. “I’m a little too wound-up to hit the hay just yet.”
Butch and Cassidy waved over their shoulders as they bid their friend goodnight, breaking into a bit of inebriated song. “Mr. Sandmane!” They began, inspired by the mention. “Bring me a dream! Bum-bum-bum. Make her the cutest mare that I’ve ever seen!”
Jackson tipped his hat as he watched them wander off for a moment, shaking his head before drifting in the opposite direction himself. Reaching the outskirts of town, with a mind to kick a few rocks along the way, he could see the outline of the hills by the light of the moon.
There was an old shack that stood a dozen paces from the backside of the pharmacy, used to be a shaded spot for laborers, but had been left alone for years. Its wood was dried out, and over time the front wall where the door had been had fallen apart, leaving the small space open to the elements.
He had intended to take up a spot on the outer wall that faces east out to the desert, spend a bit of time sulking in his rejection. But when he rounded the corner, found that he wasn’t alone.
“Hey there, cowboy.” Said the earth pony mare propped against the wall, a white Stetson sitting behind her ears. “Fancy meetin’ you out here ta’night.” A sharp glint fixed him in place, a dark eye peeking out from behind a blond bang that swept over the left half of her face. Bathed in the moonlight, her white coat shone with an ethereal soft silver glow.
“Um… Howdy, ma’am.” Jackson sputtered. “I didn’t think anypony would be out here. Don’t mean to disturb you-” He began to back away.
“Ain’t no bother.” Changing position to rest her left flank against the wall, she drew her right leg up along the boards, a knee-high black boot accenting her feminine figure. “I’m in the mood for some company.” She smiled, tilting her head.
Suddenly feeling his mouth go dry, he gulped. He was sure he’d never seen this girl before, he’d never be able to forget. Holly was now a distant memory as he absorbed the sight before him. “Well uh, a lady like yerself shouldn’t be left all alonesome at night. What kind of gentlecolt would I be to leave you… unattended.”
“My luck to find such a proper stallion.” Her words dripped with suggestion. Sauntering over to him, she traced the outline of his chest with a hoof. She was a head shorter than him, allowing Jackson to gaze down into a dark purple iris that sparkled with temptation. “Would you be a dear and escort a lady home?”
“It would be my pleasure ma’am.” Jackson smirked, his confidence returning.
“Hmm, I assure you, it will be.” Flicking her plaited tail across his nose as she turned, the whiff of perfume elicited a sharp twitch of the nostrils. “This way, darlin’.”
“You sure live a ways out.” Glancing at his surroundings, Jackson examined the trees that had begun sprouting up the closer they got to the foothills. The ground had gone from sandy to a mix of dark earth and rock, a few tufts of green grass here and there. “It’s a good thing I came with ya, them Diamond Dogs catch you out here, they’ll nab you quick as spit.”
“Oh my.” She said, walking beside him, her own focus forward. “I hear those brutes are just terrible. Have you ever seen one?”
“Few times. Big slobbering bastids’ come right up out the ground. Rob you blind if’n they ain’t just drag you back down with ‘em.”
“How awful.” She emphasized the words by swerving her head, taking careful measure of their surroundings in the same motion. “How ever did you manage to avoid them?”
“Well, the first time I was just a colt, my daddy grabbed me by the scruff and ran like a dragon was breathing down his neck. The second time the fella actually caught me by surprise, so I lashed out right quick and smashed my hoof across his jaw. Musta been more of a fight than he was expectin’, ‘cause he went back down his hole and I high-tailed it.”
“Handsome and brave.” Sparing him a coy look combined with a bite of the lip, she led him up a trail that ran between a near-vertical rock face and a boulder that had rolled down long before. “Just a little further now.”
Coming through the other side, Jackson saw the lower valley beyond, obscured by more trees and the development of heavy bush. “You know uh…” Looking around, he realized that he was far further in the wilderness than he was comfortable with, no matter how pretty a mare she might be. “Being out here this late ain’t really safe for anypony.”
“Oh don’t you mind.” She cooed. “I can find you a safe spot for the night.”
The trail rounded a corner, and there he finally saw the dark shape of a cabin ahead and off to the side. “You live here by yerself?” He asked, a bit incredulous.
“I got family that drops in from time to time.” Going onto the porch, she led him inside. While he stood in the shadow, she struck a match and lit a lamp affixed to a table.
“Thank you ever so kindly for seeing me home safely.” She strode close to him and nuzzled her face alongside his. “Now you just wait right here, and I’ll prepare your… accommodations…” Before he could say anything, she planted a kiss on his lips, lingering for a moment until she tore away and walked with a noticeable swagger towards an adjacent room and shut the door behind her.
After a few seconds of staring at the closed door, Jackson’s head shivered. “Oh boy…” He muttered. Thinking quickly, he went and carefully shut the front door they had entered, then tossing his hat aside, found a hanging mirror to adjust his mane in. “Now don’t you go making a fool ah’yourself boy.” He told himself.
In the other room, the white mare grinned, her eye gleaming with delight in the moonlight that beamed through the window. She approached a metal pipe that ran from the ceiling and through a hole in the floor. With her hoof, she began tapping on it in rhythmic pattern: tik, tik-tik, tik-tik-tik, tik-tik. The sound and vibrations carried down the bar.
She then took her hat off and tossed it on a standing rack in the corner, and finding another match on a bedside table, lit a candle propped in a bronze carry dish. “Hmm hmm hmm.” Biting the handle of the table’s drawer with a gentle hum on her tongue, she extracted a white-handled brush and set it on the bed.
What came next as she proceeded to unbraid her hair, was the sound of the creak of wooden boards on old hinges followed by a shriek from Jackson.
Despite the chaos of yelps, barks, snarls, growls, and clattering wood that ensued, still she carried on with the melody and began to run the brush through her golden locks, casually smoothing out any burs or tangles.
The commotion in the other room was over in a few moments, bookended by the same whine of the creaky hinges. She poked her head out of the bedroom, and seeing that she was alone, chuckled.