Cactus Blossom knew she owed Morton a day of work. He was a kind and easy boss, not given to harsh demands or unreasonable requirements. He had seen Silverstar, just as she had. He knew what was happening and why she would have wanted to ask for the day to herself. He would have been good enough to give it to her.
She did not want to put him in that position, however. She was not the sort that would take advantage of a pony's good nature and simply remain inactive, no matter how much she was hurting. Silverstar had the physical pain, but her heart was filled with pain as well. She had been the cause. It was her mere existence, her being with Silverstar, that had made Cordelia batter him bloody. She still had the clotted gauze to prove it.
Cactus stared at herself in her lighted mirror, running a split hoof over her face. She remained mostly the same, her pale cafe au lait coat looking soft and well-conditioned, her ears slightly perked from a more neutral straight-out position, and the fur on top of her head smoothed and straightened down, a look she found very fetching and which Silverstar did as well.
Her eyes, however, were not as bright as they should have been after a wonderful trip into the wide world with Silverstar. She had gotten hardly any sleep at all. She had arrived very late, though did not regret a single moment with him on the train, and then had spent a good deal of time tending to his injuries. Even after both had gone to bed she had not slept well. She could feel his twitches and spasms when he pressed a sore spot in his sleep.
Like some buffalo she could feel close-range vital mana flow. When raw mana passed through a living being it carried small trace echoes that the sensitive could feel. She might have become a healer had she felt so inclined, but she had been drawn to performance. Her chants had been greatly praised and her command of the Equestrian language led her to strike out to Appleoosa.
As a healer she would certainly not have been in that sad state, staring into her own sleep-deprived eyes thinking about the horrible abuses visited upon a married stallion because she did not refuse when he asked her for a relationship. The fifth time. She had refused, outright, the first time. But he was persistent, and very convincing. He had explained the problems with his wife, and demonstrated them very clearly by having her listen at a window. Such terrible words... she had let herself feel the emotional suffering he endured, and was convinced because... of all the cows or mares or others he could have gone to, he went to her, and only her.
He was not some desperate, lustful beast, as some of the cows who had never met a pony said that stallions were. He was a tired, sad, pained creature, with a very good heart. He was filled with love, and wanted someone to receive that love. His wife was certainly unworthy of it. Cactus smiled despite herself, finding it an honor that she had been worthy of such attention from a sweet stallion.
He was a different pony with her. On his rounds he was gregarious and cheerful, of course. He had a ready smile and kind words for all that passed him by. Even in a more serious mode, when he had to exercise his legal powers he was stern and tough but very fair. He never punished out of proportion and he never let his personal relationships ruin the workings of justice and the stability of the town. With his wife he was... persuaded by duty to be kind, but the love had long left.
With her he was something else altogether. Funny, warm, tender, romantic, all the positives. But he could also be contemplative, deeply considering life and circumstance. He could be fearful, afraid of what could come or what had passed. He lay open before her, like a book, not a single secret kept hidden. She had read his spirit inside and out, and found every line beautiful.
She had been working on automatic while thinking of Silverstar and all that their relationship had meant to her. Her lips were painted and her cheeks powdered, her senses returning as she brushed the shadow onto her upper eyelids. She didn't want to go out there. She was determined to stay in and feel for Silverstar, and take a portion of the responsibility for his abuse.
She was half into her shimmering dress when she realized her sense of duty and honor was stronger than her weepy desire. She was not doing it because she did not care about Silverstar and his pain, but because she had to go on with life. They needed normalcy, as much normalcy as possible. It was the only way they could move on and get back to what they had come to know as their lives. She would need to be especially strong to support Silverstar in the time to come.
She appeared downstairs at the saloon, her headband sitting below the sparkling headband for her job, two regular feathers overpowered by the image of the three large, imitation ostrich feathers waving behind her head. “Hello Mister Morton. I am prepared for this evening. I do hope to provide an entertaining time as ever.”
Morton stood behind the bar, casually wiping the inside of a glass. He regarded Cactus with a bit of surprise. “Well now, Miss Blossom ma'am that's mighty surprisin'. Ah figgered ya'd be up there. Ya deserve the time ta yerself.”
Cactus nodded her head and gave a half-heated smile. “It is true, I am still sad about what happened... what happened because of me. But I cannot take advantage of your goodness. And Silverstar will need a strong shoulder on which to lean, one which still follows a normal life and can present that normalcy to him.”
“If ya say, ma'am. Ya know yer own heart. Stage is all yers fer now if'n ya need to practice,” Morton said, returning to his cleaning and preparation behind the bar.
“Thank you, sir,” Cactus said, nodding her head in Morton's direction and making her way up to the stage. She regarded the effectively-empty room and tried to imagine it full of slightly-rowdy mares, cows, stallions and bulls. They could sometimes ignore her, and sometimes give her greater focus than she thought possible of them. It was usually different each time she sang, and she had no way to know what she might get.
She changed her mental image, seeing the room as wholly empty, save for Silverstar sitting front and center, looking up at her. He always had a look on his face whenever she sang. This blissful look of peace and happiness. If the song was happy or sad or funny, it was always there, just behind whatever other expression might be present.
A song began to pour out of her mouth, bittersweet, but much more sweet than bitter. She kept her eyes closed, but focused on the image of the enraptured Silverstar. Audiences would come and audiences would go, she could not help that. But she had Silverstar. And despite what was happening, she would never wish that gone. There were too many happy memories, and any one was worth all that had happened.
- - -
Silverstar was back at his job, more or less. He had barely taken any time working up the courage to tell Cordelia they were through, and it was around lunchtime by the time all the emotions had stopped roiling. He made the executive decision to stop into the only restaurant in town, the one to which Cordelia had expected to be taken. It made airs at being pretentious and citified using the décor, like the chandelier and the lace doilies all over the non-seating areas, but everything else was very in keeping with the town.
“Afternoon, Sheriff,” Clarion Bell said pleasantly, nodding her dark-lavender-maned head towards Silverstar. She was seated at a table near the sheriff, along with her husband, buffalo brave Howling Gale-Bell. “I see you... got caught in the storm...”
“That's about the story that reflects the facts,” Silverstar chuckled. “Good to see ya both, Missus an' Mister Bell. Whereabouts are yer little ones today?”
“They're with a sitter. Sometimes getting out for a date is good, even if you're already married. Right, Sheriff?” Howling asked, with an innocent mirth.
Silverstar's smile twisted into a wry look and he slumped down a little bit. “Ya ain't wrong there, Mister Bell, ya ain't wrong...”
“So does that mean we will be seeing you and Cordelia here with some regularity?” Clarion asked. “The ambiance is wonderfully familiar, like the nice places in Hoofington, but the prices and cuisine are picture perfect for this town that has become my true home.”
“Y'all'll be seein' me here, no question,” Silverstar commented, taking up his menu and dragging his eyes over the choices. Barbecued vegetables of all types, salads of all sorts, and a vast panoply of desserts. He eventually ordered a modest lunch of barbecue, salad and a slab of the local apple pie, and took the time to think about his situation.
He was done, by and large. The life he had been enjoying... the life he had been tolerating with the help of adultery was over. It was always meant to be over, he had promised Cactus that he would tell Cordelia and lower the boom on himself. Perhaps if he had actually done it and not waited for Cordelia to figure out for herself with Cactus' scent on him there would have been less abuse, though just as much screaming.
A slight twitch in the sore part of his body managed to tweak the lingering pain. Cactus had patched him up fairly well; she was a decent healer. However there was still plenty of bruising, some small cuts, and miscellaneous pain that lingered on. He had brought it on himself, and in some way, deserved it. He had been cheating on his wife, and that was wrong. Even with a reason it was wrong.
He had the right to divorce her, as rare as such a proceeding was in Equestria, and could present plenty of reasons that would make the severance quick, though there would be rancor from her no matter what. Acrimony was part and parcel of Cordelia's nature, and there was nothing to be done about it. He would give her as few reasons as possible to be bitter. He would not ask for alimony, even if it was his right.
To think about it, her comment about his position was not an idle threat. Cordelia had financed his initial campaign, and done lots of glad-hoofing, like he did. Her money was indeed behind him. Though now the population of Appleoosa knew him and genuinely liked him. He could rely on his name... until they found out he had been cheating on Cordelia. She would likely float her own candidate, and see how it went. He could be looking at the end of his job, what his Cutie Mark indicated was his perfect match.
As his lunch arrived he further considered it would be the last meal out he could get. Until the circuit judge arrived his personal money was going to have to suffice for all he needed. He was at least certain he could sleep in the sheriff's office. It might get awkward but the whole situation was threatening to be awkward. From the moment he pressed his hoof to Cactus' split hoof it was barreling down to a situation just like the one in which he found himself.
“Cactus...” Silverstar mumbled to himself before scraping his teeth down some barbecued corn on the cob. His job, his home, his property were all on the line. Cordelia held his future in the frog of her hoof. But he had Cactus. He had her love, her concern, her mind and her body. She held him just as securely and with as much significance. Through all the problems ahead they could count on one another. He was sure, after what he had seen last night and that morning. Her tending to his wounds and being concerned about his going to see Cordelia showed she would be there.
As he started in on the apple pie he was smiling, in spite of the looks and whispers that had started circulating through the dining room. He was in line to lose a lot, either for a while or for good. But he wasn't losing what had come to matter most in his life. Cactus would be there for him. Together they could get through anything. No matter the pain it had cost, she was worth it all and more.
- - -
Cordelia had cast aside her attire, something she seldom did. She was also not much into labor; she had been born to reasonable wealth. She, however, had to swallow her pride and keep up some appearances. A good faith gesture on her part might reduce the alimony she would have to pay. She knew that the law would be on Silverstar's side, not just because he was part of it but also because he was a stallion, and in the very rare cases of divorce stallions were treated well. Their low numbers served in some respect.
Just because her gesture was good faith didn't mean that she was interested in good will. She was extremely incautious with her handling of his items. She stuffed his vests and extra hats into burlap sacks, practically punching them down to the bottom. She was beating him all over again, in a manner less likely to be questioned in court. She had a reason! But... mitigation was a hard sell. Even Prince Blueblood had needed egregious bigotry to sell his defense.
The Prince was hardly what would be considered 'proper' in a place like Pericarp. Ponies recalled propriety, even if none said it. None had to speak it out loud. They lived it and held in their hearts. There were rules, certain modes that never changed, however things might have in other areas. True, it made the place increasingly irrelevant but none could deny the grace, style and charm of the county.
Cordelia's angry packing halted when she found an album of photos in the back of Silverstar's closet. The book looked like it had lain untouched for quite a while, though it was not uncared for. It had been carefully wrapped in clean linen and carefully placed on a spare pillow. The photos within were all about their courtship, wedding and life in Pericarp.
She smiled despite herself. There was a photograph of her family, and the old plantation. They had had to give it up, after the ascension of the Apples. The family history was very clear about it. It hardly mattered. The plantation-type farms had been losing out for practically a century, with a 'heyday' that lasted for about a decade. Nothing but a failed experiment relegated to rural areas like Pericarp.
But when they had worked... that was the way of Pericarp, and the way of her thinking. She remembered the traditions. They had worked. They could still work, with effort, with dedication, with devotion to the ideal. It could produce uncomfortable situations, which she knew very well. Even out of the county and in a distant frontier she was still in the shadow of the Apples. And to watch one of that cursed bloodline flaunt about with a buff made it more galling.
More turns of the page showed other photographs from a time before she had met Silverstar. It was doubly nice. She could revel in the nostalgia, the sight of her family and home, but she could also remember that at one time Silverstar had been proud of her family, had enjoyed their ways.
Further pages showed him, the dashing, even more strictly-rural stallion. He was straight out of the much less 'refined' sort of environments. While the Pericarp folk disdained the 'city' ponies as hopelessly out of touch with propriety they were over the less educated or polished rural dwellers. The whole county occupied an enviable position, diluted, as ever, by the children of Eugenia and Adam, some of whom went to the likes of Manehattan, some of whom degenerated into mere mud-gouging farm-toilers.
Their courtship was lovingly recounted. She had been charmed and smitten with the guileless and earnest Silverstar, taken in by his quaint ways and plain speaking. It was certainly a change from what she knew. He had that way about him. She had not been lying about his country charm. For a nothing yokel with aspirations to law enforcement he could be remarkably engaging. She had fallen for it easily.
She had been happy with him once. She knew she had been so pleased with herself for grabbing Silverstar when she did. She had thought him the perfect stallion, just the right sort of stallion to support in a bid for an important position like sheriff. She should have looked into the details. Stuck under the hoof of Apples again, Brown Betty's family mostly. Dragged out to the real sticks, to a dusty nothing where the uncouth peasants lived. But that wasn't what truly altered her feelings. Ponies in love who maintained appearances could make any unwashed heap bearable. It was all the implications he had made, before spitting it out directly to her.
He had talked of hurt and hate, of her inflicting such on him and spreading disdain for non-ponies. It was the way of the world, the way of her home. She had learned it and would not trade it for anything. There was order and rightness. Silverstar seemed like he knew it. But no, from the start, it had been 'donkeys this' and 'griffins that.' He even took the side of Roa. And in Appleoosa, the buffs and the dirt Dogs. Maybe that had cost her the love of Silverstar. But it was his fault, always had been, always would be. He had misrepresented himself. He had changed, and she would not.
The wedding photos at the end, with all the smiling ponies and cheerful expressions told her what their life used to be. The appearances, the supposition, the image. Everything she venerated. It was all there, pure and perfect. It had not lasted, Silverstar had betrayed the proper way, being unsatisfied with the relationship and moved to... some buff.
It was also the fault of the wider nation. She had lost her husband, would lose face and standing in the community and have to deal with needless uncertainty. But even so, she would treasure those ways, those wonderful, pony-supporting ways. The old ways were disdained by the rest of the world but held as precious by her. It was trash to everypony else. But treasure to her.