Property of West Wind

by OleGrayMane

On the Porch

 
“You head back to the bunkhouse,” Doc instructed West, “and keep outta sight. Keep a cool head too. Don't do nothing rash. If you see Mac or AJ on your way, make up some story. Tell 'em—” His mind came up blank. “Something—I don't know. Tell 'em you're looking for something or the other.”

West nodded.

“Leave it to me.” Doc rested a hoof on West's shoulder. “I'll take care of everything, including this one.” He gestured towards Shorty.

“Now go!” Doc gave him a smack, and West galloped off through the orchard.

Doc trotted back to where Shorty lay on the ground. Anger roiled in him as he looked at the unconscious pony. The plans for winter were unravelling, all because he'd been stupid enough to help somepony out.

Shorty's eyes began to flutter.

Doc's kick landed with a hollow thunk on Shorty's chest. “Git up you idiot,” he sneered.

“Son-of-a…” Shorty mumbled as he pulled himself up. “What happened?”

“You got what you deserved, that's what happened.” Doc turned his head and spat. “That, and ya probably cost us our escrow.”

“Huh?” Shorty blinked, slowly bringing the world into focus. He scooted backwards and leaned on a tree. “That bastard shouldn't have—”

“Shut your damn mouth! What did you expect riding him like that? You know how he feels about them! But, oh no, you had to keep at it, didn't you? I've had it with you! Ya don't have the sense to keep that damn mouth of yours shut for ten minutes, do ya?”

“Listen, Doc, I—”

“I'm tired of listening to you, so shut up.” Doc took a step away for a second, and then came back at Shorty, shoving his hoof into his face. “Ya know, I think I've figured it out now.” His body shook. “I think there's only way you can learn anything, am I right? I think your Pa had that figured out too. It's time I teach you a lesson and beat the hell out of you right now!”

“You go to hell!”

Doc took deep, angry breaths as his hoof hovered over Shorty's head. Trembling, he slowly returned it to the ground.

“Dammit, Shorty.” He held his hoof on his forehead, his eyes closed. “Why the hell do you always do this?”

“What's gotten into you, Doc?” Shorty rubbed his aching jaw. He stared up at Doc's frustrated grimace, puzzled by the reaction.

“Let me see your face,” Doc said matter of fact. He put his hoof under Shorty's chin and examined both sides.

“Bad?” Shorty asked.

“No, but it's gonna swell. Can't hide it,” he said. “West will keep his mouth shut 'cause I told him to, but your face is gonna tell the story better than he ever could.” Doc looked off into the trees. “Dammit!”

“So what are we gonna do? That bastard will put the blame on me for sure. He'll have me thrown out!”

Doc paced back and forth. “Now listen here, punk,” he said, “I'm going to go see if I can get us out of this mess. You can't be seen util this is all sorted out. So stay put and don't even think of going after him, understand?” He turned and started towards the farm house.

“And what if I did?” Shorty shot back.

Doc walked back and looked down with an icy glare. “I swear by all this is holy, if you go at him again—code or no code—I will put you in the bone orchard.”

A heavy silence hung between. At last, Short said, “Seriously?”

Doc clenched his jaw tighter. “I promise you.”

“You're a bigger fool than he is,” Shorty mumbled as he stared at the ground.

Doc snorted and galloped off.

—❦—

As he approached the farm house, Doc slowed to a trot. She was just where he knew she'd be, on the porch in her rocker, sleeping the afternoon away, with her head tilted back and her mouth open wide. He stood in front of Granny and cleared his throat. She remained oblivious to the world. A loud forced cough got her attention, and her eyes fluttered open.

Granny brought her head up and looked about, disoriented, squinting in the bright light. “Doc—” She rubbed her eyes and blinked. “Did I oversleep?”

“Pardon me for disturbing your beauty rest, Ma'am,” he said, “but I need to have a little conversation.”

“Eh?”

“My”—he wiped imaginary sweat from his brow and looked into the sky—“certainly is a hot one so late in the year, isn't it? Nary a bit of breeze either.” He put on his best, polished smile.

Granny adjusted herself in the rocker and peered at him with one eye. “So ya woke me to deliver a weather report?”

“I wish that were the case, Ma'am.” He sheepishly pawed at the ground. “You see, we've had a bit of what you might call—oh—an incident out in the orchard.”

“Ya don't say.” Granny looked on stone-face as she crossed her forelegs.

“It just been so gosh darn hot today, even under your folk's beautiful apple trees…”

Granny's eyes narrowed.

“Well, we do a lot of talking to pass the time, ya see, and eventually, the conversation turned to how hard we've all been working.” He grinned and rolled his head back. “Then it turned to who had been working the hardest—”

The old mare huffed.

“—and thanks to this gosh darn heat, the words, well they got a little hot too, and that lead to some good natured shoving…” Doc looked at the ground and let his ears flop down. “And that, unfortunately, lead to a little dust up.” He kept his head down, but peered up cautiously, waiting for her reaction.

“Oh, Doc.” She sighed and dropped her head.

“I know,” he pleaded. “Honest, I tried to have 'em keep cooler heads.”

“Doc, Doc, Doc—” she moaned and shook her head.

“Please, Ma'am—”

“—I laid out the rules when you fellers started here. Ya know what I'm gonna hav'ta do.”

“Granny, please.” He sniffled. “I know those were the rules, we all did, but I'm begging you, please don't send none of us off. You know we've all been workin' real hard. It's been a rough year for all of us. Give 'em another chance, that's all I'm askin' from ya.”

Granny looked sternly at him and re-crossed her forelegs.

“Please, they're my friends. They're good, honest ponies at heart, and—” he paused for emphasis, “—if you send 'em off, I'm going to have to go with one or the other. It wouldn't be fair otherwise, would it?” He rubbed his nose. “We'll only be here for a few more weeks. I promise I'll make 'em behave.”

“Well…” She exhaled deeply. “Ain't none of ya given us no trouble up to now.”

“No, Ma'am.” He straightened up and held his hoof to his chest. “I promise you there'll be no more trouble.”

The old mare watched in silence, her eyes burrowing into him. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle. Slowly, he returned his hoof to the ground.

“Now, tell me—” Granny paused and rubbed her chin, “—is either of 'em hurt?”

“A few scrapes and bruises. Nothing bad.” Doc sighed. “Shorty got the worst of it,”—a sly grin grew on his face—“but I think his pride was hurt more than anything else.”

After a chuckle Granny said, “I see.” She smoothed out some errant hairs in her mane. “This little dust up wouldn't have been caused by a certain Mr. Short Line's mouth, would it now?”

Doc raised his head up to the sky, but his eyes were locked on her. “It certainly is hot today, ain't it?”

They laughed.

“All right,” Granny said, “I'll give 'em another chance.”

“Thank you, Ma'am. Don't fret, I'll keep 'em in line.”

“I'm sure yur word's good, Doc, but I ain't gonna take no chances.”

His eyes opened wide. “Hmm?”

“Big McIntosh will be supervisin' you boys for the next few days. Not workin', just watchin'. Ya got that straight?”

He nodded.

“If'n you three don't have the good sense to keep cool heads with Mac around, ya know what I'll do to the lot of ya.” Granny paused and glared.

“And let me warn ya…” She leaned forward in the rocker and the last trace of softness in her face disappeared as she waggled her head slowly from side-to-side. “Y'all don't want to see my grandson break up a fight, 'cause a lot more'll be hurt than somepony's pride.”

Doc gulped. “Understood, Ma'am.”

“Good.” She leaned back. “Now, you git those two settled down and cleaned up. Tell 'em they've lost a day's pay for wastin' my time—but that's all. Let 'em know I'll be expectin' a quiet and civil supper time tonight, too.” She groaned and massaged a crick in her neck.

“Oh, and Doc, let's try not to be surprised when McIntosh drops by the bunkhouse, just casually ya know, to say goodnight. I expect ya'll to sleep like babies. Maybe heads will be cooler tomorrow.” She rose from the rocker and headed for the door.

“No more shenanigans from here on out,” she warned. “We've got too much work to do.”

“Yes, Ma'am, we certainly do.” He breathed a relieved sigh and bowed his head as she walked inside.

He turned and trotted back to the orchard, wearing a satisfied grin. “Ya still got it, Doc,” he said to himself. “Ya still got it.”