The fact that a tree had toppled didn’t surprised Applejack. She’d seen plenty of trees fall. Been a might too close to a few and had the shakes for a week after. Thing was, none of them trees had been like this one. It was too big. Too thick. There were no breaks. Whole dang thing had been uprooted, taking a good chunk of soil with it. The hole could serve as a foal’s play pool. You’d need a ten-pegasus tornado to yank out a tree like that.
But here it was, on its side, crushed cherries everywhere. Made for a nice scent, but Applejack couldn’t stop glancing at Ms. Jubilee. The lines under her eyes were deep enough to plant crops. She sighed and surveyed the damage.
“Clutterstep?”
“I’m okay!” said a cluster of branches to the left. The wind kicked up as the branches shook and trembled. An earth pony’s head wiggled free with half the leafs tangled in his shaggy mane.
The wind in the trees grew to a howl. The blue thing! The blue thing!
Took a minute to make sure that really was his coat color. Enough mud and twigs stuck on him to make a passable timberwolf. The pony stumbled free and tripped, landing on his chin and knocking some of the chomp loose. He coat was a strong shade of blue. Reminded her of the deepest lake in Ponyville. His smoky mane drooped over his neck and covered his left eye. The right one wheeled like it couldn’t decide which way to look. The pony—Clutterstep—stood on jelly legs and wobbled over to them.
“Clutterstep,” said Ms. Jubilee, “this here’s Applejack and Big Macintosh.”
“Howdy-do?” Clutterstep held out a hoof to Applejack’s left. When she didn’t take it, the pony shook his head and his eye settled. Grinning, he shifted his hoof over.
“Hi.” She said, real uncertain, and shook.
Clutterstep moved on and shook with Big Mac. “So I guess you guys are those Ponyville farmers Ms. Jubliee called?”
“Eeyup.”
“Glad to have you.” Clutterstep smiled at them both.
“Uh, Clutter,” Ms. Jubilee glanced at the toppled tree. “What happened here?”
Clutterstep glanced back, grinning like Applebloom whenever she’d been caught with a hoof in the cookie jar.
“Well… the tree had a fight with gravity, and the odds-on favorite won.”
Ms. Jubilee didn’t laugh. “That’s not an answer, Clutterstep.”
The blue pony scratched the back of his mane. The tangled leaves scraped against each other. “I… I tripped.”
“Tripped?”
“On a root.”
Applejack blinked, a fresh pit digging into her stomach. “How in the hay does tripping on a root turn into a tree landing on its side?”
“I wish I could tell you.” Clutterstep shrugged. “I just remember a lot of crashing, branches in my face, and leafs in places I’d rather not mention.”
“Fine. Fine!” Ms. Jubilee waved her hoofs as if fighting an idea. “Just… take Big Macintosh to the barn and get the axes and harness. We need to get the roots back in before they dry out.”
“Right.” said Clutterstep turned to go, then paused. “I’m sorry.”
“Just go, please.” The Pony trotted towards the farmhouse, his head low. Big Macintosh followed.
Applejack waited until they were out of earshot before saying, “He’s your only worker?”
“The only one!” Ms. Jubilee sniffed. “Oh, he’s an honest boy and all, but I’ve spent half my budget on broken tools, shattered plates, you name it!” She rested her head against the fallen tree trunk. Ran a hoof over its bark. “I remember this tree, you know. Was the very first one I plant, all them years ago.” Ms. Jubilee looked out over the orchard without moving her head. “This land was nothing but dirt and tumbleweeds when I bought it. Folks said it wasn’t fit for planting, but I showed them. It started with this one tree, and every year I fought tooth and hoof to keep them watered. Kept ‘em growing. This orchard will be here a long time after I’m gone.” She started to tremble.
Applejack rested a hoof on her friend’s shoulder, doing her darndest to bring the same calm Big Macintosh always managed. “It’ll be okay, Ms. Jubilee. Whatever’s troublin’ you, we can fix it.”
Ms. Jubilee steadied herself with a breath and put on a pleasant smile. “Yes, everything will be fine.” She stood. “I’m awful sorry, Applejack. Here you drop everything to come and help and I’m already shaking myself into a frenzy. I promise I’ll explain everything once we fix this little problem.”
Big Macintosh and Clutterstep returned with several lengths of chains, two axes, and a long saw. Under Ms. Jubilee’s supervision, Applejack and Big Macintosh held the saw between them and cut right at the tree’s midsection. Clutterstep offered to help, but Ms. Jubilee told him to stay back and simply watch. “These two have been doing this a lot longer. You can learn a lot just by looking.”
“Yes ma’am.” Clutterstep sighed and pawed at the dirt.
Applejack and Big Macintosh moved at a rhythm only kin shared. Back and forth, quick as a jackrabbit and strong as a bull. With the saw handles in their teeth, the two gave signals with eye blinks, warning when to slow down or encouraging to speed up. Three minutes and they were almost ready to cut through the other end. Applejack signaled them to stop. “Clutterstep, y’all need to get back.”
Dang fool pony had been leaning way too close. The end cut was the most dangerous part. The blue pony nodded and retreated until his rump collided with a tree. Several cherries fell off and pelted his noggin. Cherry Jubilee watched the fruit split on the ground and sighed.
Applejack and Big Macintosh used the axes. Hacked away at the last of the cut until Big Mac signaled the last strike and brought the axe down hard. The tree split and gravity did the rest. The stump tilted upright, settling right back into the ground and filling the hole. Once the dust settled, you’d never know it’d been loose.
“Yee-haw!” Applejack said, “Give it a little time and the tree’ll grow back, good as new!”
“Neat.” said Clutterstep.
Cherry Jubilee smiled, but the lines around her eyes deepened. “Yes. Time.”
That just left the tree trunk. Applejack wrapped the lengths of chain and bound ‘em right tight before getting them fixed to Big Mac’s yoke. They set off along the edge of the slope, looking for a real gradual way to get the trunk down and back to the farmhouse. Applejack figured she and Big Macintosh could cut it up into firewood in ten minutes flat.
“Dang.” said Clutterstep to Big Macintosh. “You’re something else.”
Big Mac got that nervous smile that always popped up when someone paid a compliment. “Aw, nnope.”
“I’m serious. You make carrying this thing look easy. I bet you could haul Grumble Brothers to jail no problem. “
“None of that, Clutterstep!” said Ms. Jubilee. “I already told these two that’s not the reason I call ‘em here.”
“But it’s a good idea!” said Clutterstep. “Fifty thou would go a long way to paying off all your debts.”
“Debts?” said Applejack. There hadn’t been any talk of owing money when she’d last visited Dodge Junction.
Cherry Jubilee’s cast a glare Clutterstep’s way.
“Oh. Sorry. Loose lips and all that.”
Ms. Jubilee wouldn’t look Applejack in the eye. “I’ll tell you all about it over a cup of tea.
XXXXXX
Rawley wiped off the last, sweet drop of orange juice from his snout before stepping into the tavern (or whatever). Visiting the nearest garbage bin had done wonders for his nerves. Such lovely scents. Home away from home, but without the fog. Now he needed to look calm, composed. Couldn’t lead his mates looking all frazzled.
The Sneak required that he not go in through the front door. Only an idiot entered the way someone expected. No, he found his way inside through the back, keeping to the shadows and darting through when he sensed nopony was looking. Rawley often boasted he could pluck the eyebrows off a pony without them noticing, and by the Infinite Dumpster, that was half-true!
His lads were all clustered around a table in the far corner. They all had different drinks than when he’d left. Not new drinks. They’d just pilfered each others’. Good lads. thought Rawley. Keep up the practice. Rawley slipped through the backroom door and traced the shadows up into the rafters. Stalking the central beam, he leaned over and let his tail dip low to brush against the gray fur on Harumphey’s neck. Ever on the alert, the lanky Varmin tensed and turned.
Quick as you please, Rawley hung by his back paws, swiped Harumphey’s drink, and downed it in one go. Ugh. The cheap stuff. Rawley should know. He’d ordered it.
The other members of his less-than-proud-but-effective troupe broke into laughter.
“Hey!” Harumphey stumbled out of his chair and fixed Rawley with his usual sour glare.
“Wotcher, lads.” Rawley landed with nary a thump and doffed his cap.
“Hey Rawley!” said Scamp. An energetic lad, the elder brother by two minutes. He kept the fur atop his head combed forward. “You made it back!”
“Told you he would.” said Scrap. The two were identical except for Scamp’s darker coat and the way Scrap combed his fur back.
“You bloody did not!”
“Bloody did too!” Scrap’s tail flicked out and tried to wrap around Scamp’s neck. The elder brother caught the attempt and dove, knocking over a chair as they tussled. Rawley sighed and helped himself to a vacated seat. Was important that the tykes learn not to get too attached to family.
Giant and stone-faced Whiskers leaned against the wall. He’d gotten the best spot in Rawley’s absence with an eye on all the entryways. “You told Ms. Preda about them new ponies?” His parents had a buggered sense of humor. His whiskers were tiny wisps against his larger face. Still, a right proud student of the Sneak.
“Too right I did. And made it out with nary a scratch.” He called over the clatter as Scrap and Scamp toppled a table. The bar owner shouted for them to stop, but didn’t make a move. He knew their employer. “Our dear Missus wants to meet these new arrivals.”
“Tss-ts-ts-tsssss!” That was Twitch. If ever there were a creature that needed a thought bubble for others to read, Twitch was the one. His black fur made him blend with the darkest corner, but his yellow and red eyes burned a little bright. Made Rawley right uncomfortable. Twitch clawed at the air, his paws flexing as if strangling something.
“Here now, none of that.” said Rawley. “This is just a meet and greet, per Ms. Preda’s style. There’ll be no busting of heads. Not yet, anyway. Clear?” He made sure to get a nod from each, though Harumphy’s was the most sullen. Gotta watch that attitude. Getting too big for his britches.
“But the bet’s still on?” said Whiskers.
Rawley leaned back and rested his back paws on the table. “But of course, my lads. As I recall, Scrap got the best swipe last time.”
“He did not.” said Scamp, “I did, you see?”
“Lying tosser!” Scrap elbowed him in the gut and stole his brother’s breath.
“All right, ‘nough of that.” The boys stopped fighting long enough for the others to finish their drinks. “Let’s not keep anypony waiting.” He nodded to the bar owner. “Cheers!”
“You gonna pay this time?” said the owner.
Rawley offered a nod. “Mighty fine accommodations, governor. ‘specially that pickaxe crest.” He nodded at a pair of rusty pickaxes forming an X on the far wall. A leftover from the Coltez Mines. The owner looked away for an instant, and that was all they needed.
By the time the pony looked back, Rawley and his lads were well on their way.
XXXXXX
“I’m sorry that I can’t offer you a proper table.” Ms. Jubilee served Applejack and Big Macintosh tea over a fold-out card table draped with her favorite cherry-pattern cloth. Applejack fought hard against the questions bubbling inside her, like what had happened to her fine oak table. She focused instead on Clutterstep, outside, putting away the chains and axes. Sounded like he was trying to pound all that metal into one of them art destructo pieces that Rarity always mentioned.
To the eyes, Ms. Jubilee’s kitchen was a mish-mash. The card table didn’t match the soft pillows under their plots. The tins over the stove weren’t as fancy as the cherry-pattern napkins, but somehow they didn’t fit as good as the heat-warped pans hanging from a rack. Applejack’s mouth watered from the scents of cherries and cinnamon. This was a home, sure enough, but it was a home that was losing itself.
Cherry Jubilee offered them a cup of hot chamomile, plus a half-cup for herself. Applejack was about to ask why when Cherry Jubilee produced a tin flask from her bun-shaped mane and poured a dark liquid into her teacup. She took a long sip. Applejack and Big Macintosh exchanged glanced, then sipped their own.
Applejack had been trying to think of a subtle, tactful way to get to the topic like Twilight always managed. “Ms. Jubilee, how are you in debt?” Applejack was not Twilight.
Ms. Jubilee took a sip and nodded. “Things were good for a good while. Nothing to complain ‘bout. Had hard workers, plenty of crops. This year’s harvest was going to be one of the best. But then it all just started to fall apart. Them Grumble Brothers started ambushing trains, stealing supplies, they even made off with the mayor’s house. His house!”
Applejack’s mouth hung. “Was the mayor inside?”
“Thankfully no. He and his family were all out on business.”
“Is he okay?”
“Can’t say. He went and hustled his family into a storm cellar last month and ain’t come out since. Folks leave ‘em food and all, so I know they’re still with us. Ain’t had much leadership since then.”
Applejack mulled that over for a second. “Wait, you’re staying them trolls stole his house in daylight?”
Ms. Jubilee nodded. “Bold as brass.”
“How come they didn’t turn to stone?” Everypony knew that broad daylight was safest place to avoid a troll.
Ms. Jubilee took another sip and looked at Applejack over the teacup rim. “Sunscreen.”
The word hung in the air like a storm cloud, just a-waiting to rain. Applejack said, “Ya’ll are pulling my hoof.”
“I’m saying the honest truth. SPF one million, near as I can figure. Keeps ‘em walking when they should be a pair of statues. It’s all the… sheriff and his boys can do to keep them for robbing us blind. They’re hiding out in old Coltez Mines, you see. Real deep shafts, with a lot of natural gas pockets. A right dangerous place. Even the Diamond Dogs avoid it now. No pony who’s gone after that bounty has come back. That’s why I don’t want you two or Clutterstep getting any foalish ideas.” She glanced at them both until she got a nod.
“Fair ‘nough,” said Applejack. “But I don’t see how that leads to debt?”
Ms. Jubilee poured herself another drink. No tea this time. “Well, I was in the middle of a big expansion. Some new acres for orchards. A shiny new plow. Extra workers. I thought that Cherry Hills Ranch was gonna become the go-place for all the big city markets. Them Grumble brothers hijacked a lot of my supplies, and the insurance companies didn’t buy the whole ‘sunscreen trolls’ story. So there was a huge investment just out the window.” She sighed. “And I wasn’t the only pony who got hit hard. Lots of stores had trouble getting in supplies and had to pay for extra security. That drove the prices higher than Celestia’s sun. Raised the cost of living. So I had to pay my workers more and pay for more security. Then there were all them accidents and I had to let workers go or they just up and quit and I—”
“Accidents?” Applejack and Big Macintosh asked at the same time.
Cherry Jubilee caught herself, hoof over her mouth, and she blushed red like a fruit-bat. “I… I mean. Oh, I am so sorry!” She buried her face in her hooves and started to weep. “I don’t know what I was thinking, asking you two to come on out here. It’s just that I’m at the end of my rope! Some days it’s like I haven’t a friend in the world and I just don’t know what to do!” She started sobbing.
Applejack sat frozen. Couldn’t make head-nor-tail of this situation. She’d never seen Ms. Jubilee like this. It scared her.
Big Macintosh slid from his cushion and went to her side. Rested a hoof across her withers. Ms. Jubilee stopped crying long enough to look up and smile at him. “Oh dear. I look right crazy, don’t I?”
“Nnope.” Big Macintosh patted her a might too strong and returned to his seat.
Ms. Jubilee took a few breaths before starting up again. “I say ‘accidents’, but they didn’t start up until them Varmin came to town. Nasty bunch. They hail from outside Equestria. Not sure where. Nopony can prove it, but I know them thugs have been going about, roughing up the competition. I’ve had more falling branches and snapping lines injure my workers in a month than in the last three years.” She sighed, shrinking in on herself. “Got so bad that nopony besides Clutterstep would come and work for me. Bills kept piling up until I had to take a loan to keep going. But now she’s called in the debt. I’ve to turn over a crop to pay off the loan or I’ll lose Cherry Hill Ranch!” Applejack winced. Funding a ranch was no small thing. Even if she had to sell the land, Ms. Jubilee could be digging herself out of debt for years.
Ms. Jubilee took a swig straight from the flask. “I’ve put everything into this ranch, Applejack, Mr. Macintosh.”
“Big Mac.” Her brother said, smiling. Ms. Jubilee smiled back.
“I shouldn’t have waited this long to call for help. Kept telling myself that I could handle things. That they’d get better if I could just keep my head above water another day. But now I’m at the end of the rope. I need strong work ponies. This ranch’s too big for anypony to harvest on their own.”
A crash sounded outside. Loud as a plow landing in a scrap pile.
A call came through the yellow drapes, “I’m okay!”
Ms. Jubilee sighed and rubbed her temple. “Especially when that one pony is Clutterstep.”
Applejack sat quietly for a time, turning the teacup with her hooves. She traced the engraved cherries. “So you’re saying we need to harvest the whole ranch, and that there may be thugs tryin’ to do us harm and that trolls might cause us trouble at any given minute?”
Ms. Jubilee nodded, real meek-like. “I wouldn’t have asked if I had any other option, Applejack. I-I can’t pay your right this second, but I promise I’ll be good for it. Even if I have to work off what I owe you, I promise I’ll make good.”
Applejack’s practical side said that she should just offer Ms. Jubilee a place at Sweet Apple Acres to stay and book the next train home. Thing was, memories were getting in the way. Memories of that long walk after the Apple Family nearly lost their home to the Flim-Flam Brothers. The frustration during that one applebuck season week when she’d tried to do everything on her own and the resulting mess. The way Ms. Jubilee had taken her in when she was too ashamed to go home.
Then there was the feel of the place. This was a home. The one place in all the world where a pony could go when everywhere else turned nasty. Be it eternal night or chaos spirits or shadow monsters knocking at an empire’s door, Applejack had always managed through by holding on to hope of going home again.
An Apple honors friends. Her momma’s words.
Applejack looked to her brother. He nodded all serious-like. That settled it. Applejack smiled at Ms. Jubilee. “We’ll save Cherry Hill Ranch. You can count on it!”
Tears sprung up in Ms. Jubilee’s eyes again. She rushed to Applejacks side and swept her up in a hug that would give one of Fluttershy’s bear friends a challenge. “I can’t think you enough, Applejack!” She let go and sauntered up to Big Macintosh. “And I’m so glad to have such a gentlecolt here on the ranch.” She offered her hoof.
Big Macintosh shook it. “Eeyup.”
Applejack was about to bust a gut when a crash sounded outside and a shadow flipped past the window. A tree-shaped shadow, spiraling end-over-end.
You gotta be joshing me. Applejack rushed outside and found Clutterstep standing next to the chopping frame that should have had a cherry tree on its braces, but instead lay empty with an anvil settled on the ground. The anvil was half-buried, which shouldn’t have been possible unless it was dropped from real high.
Clutterstep stared at the horizon. Along the same path as the shadow had passed.
She hadn’t taken note of his cutie mark when they’d met. Been too focused on the tree. Didn’t seem proper for a farming pony. It was like one of those mind game illusion paintings Twilight showed. It was either a heart bound in silver, or a shield shaped like a heart. Hard to say which.
Applejack hated those puzzles. You were either one or the other, not both.
She stood next to Cluttrstep and stared at the same horizon spot. “Was that—”
“It was.” said Clutterstep.
“Should I ask—”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“Any chance that could hurt somepony?”
Clutterstep looked to ponder for a minute. “Should land near the train tracks. Anything happens after that, I blame physics.”
“W-wha?” Applejack’s brain ached, the way it did whenever Pinkie Pie tried to make a point. “Clutterstep—tell me true now—have you got any history working on a ranch?”
The blue earth pony shrugged. “I’ve been here about two weeks. I’m getting…” his eyes darted like he was trying to pick the words outta the air. “Adequate.” He nodded, and Applejack pressed a hoof between her eyes.
“If’n we all get sued because that tree clobbered somepony...”
“Hey!” Clutterstep managed to sound indignant. “I’ll have you know that—minor property damage aside—nopony has ever gotten hurt because of me.” A pause. “Except me.” Another nod.
Applejack fought down a sigh. Three workers were better than two. She’d just have to whip the boy into shape. She glanced up at the sound of approaching wheels.
A white carriage had just passed under the wooden archway and was making its way onto the property. Real tiny carriage. Could only fit one and was pulled by two of them Varmin Ms. Jubilee was going on about. Applejack pointed it out, “Any idea of who’s a-coming?”
Clutterstep spotted the carriage and rolled his eyes. “Aw, crud.” To the house he called, “Ms. Jubilee? Company!”
Cherry Jubilee glanced out the window. “The sheriff?”
“Nuh-uh. Your favorite.”
Ms. Jubilee deflated onto the window rail. “Be right out. Don’t talk to them.” She ducked back in, then poked her head out. “Applejack, you just let me do the talking and keep an eye on those Varmin. Like to swipe the whole house if’n you ain’t watching!” Then she was out of sight again, her hooves stomping on the floorboards towards the front door.
“Who are we expecting?” said Applejack.
Clutterstep waved a hoof elaborately and raised his voice an octave. “The fine lady, Ms. Preda.” He blew at a strand of mane over his left eye. “Brace yourself. You’re about to meet the biggest viper on the continent.”