When Braeburn returned early in the afternoon, he had not only bought the shovel he used but had also bought three more.  He took his shovels and placed them in the barn then supposedly returned inside the house.  However, when Applejack and Twilight went to go search for him to let him know of their leaving the next day, the stallion had mysteriously disappeared.  They looked for him in his room, in the kitchen, in the living room, even out in the barn and in the orchards, but they couldn’t find him.  They had half a mind to just give up looking for him when Twilight suggested going into Appleoosa and looking around for him.

Few ponies were out in the heat at that time; the ponies that lived there knew to stay inside or in the shade of the cliffs near town, while Blueblood’s guards either suffered from the heat, panting and sweating, or had retreated to any number of small shops that sold drinks.  None of the guards had seen Braeburn, though many had heard of the incident at Braeburn’s farm and most decided they didn’t want to get involved for reasons from not wanting to get involved to respect of the property to just simply not caring.  Even the hardware store clerk had already forgiven Braeburn, even if it was for the fact that Braeburn paid him for one extra shovel to make up for running off with the one.  But little luck was had in their search.

They eventually found Braeburn at the dance hall; only the bar area was open at this time and had a few guards around it playing cards in addition to a few other patrons.  Braeburn himself was at the bar, drinking what looked like a normal soda.  Applejack and Twilight went over to Braeburn, slumped over at the bar with his head on his hooves.

“There you are!” Applejack said.  “We’ve been lookin’ all over for ya.”

Braeburn looked over at Applejack and Twilight, though his head never left his hooves.  “You were lookin’ for me?” he said, voice slurring.  “What for?”

Twilight sniffed the drink in front of Braeburn; it smelled strongly of alcohol.  Three empty glasses with the same smell were littered all over the bar space near where Braeburn was sitting.  “What have you been drinking?”

“Root beer,” Braeburn said, “with a little moonshine for kicks.  Bartender’s specialty.”

“Braeburn!” Applejack scolded.  “You shouldn’t be drownin’ yourself like that!  You know what happened the last time you got drunk like that!”

“What exactly happened?” Twilight asked Applejack.

“Aside from gettin’ sick as a dog, he started up no less than three fights: one with me, one with a relative from Baltimare, and another with Big Macintosh.  He was out for the rest of the day after that one.”

“I coulda beat him if I had one more minute!” Braeburn grumbled.

“Mac tapped him on the head and he was out like a light.”

Braeburn started laughing.  “You think that was bad?  You shoulda been in here earlier!  I bought a drink for one of the guards over there playin’ cards a few minutes ago.  Told him it was a mixture of root beer and coke, sweet as the first and refreshin’ as the second.  Sucker drank the whole thing down in three seconds.  Stupid Canterlot folk can’t hold their liquor; he’s been in the bathroom ever since.”

“What’s he been doing in there?”

“Vomiting, likely.  That toilet bowl’s gonna be his best friend for a long while.”  With that, Braeburn took another few gulps of his own drink, then laughed again as the guards gave a few growls and angered mumbles in his direction.

“It’s gonna be yours, too, if you don’t stop,” Applejack said, swiping the drink away as soon as it hit the bar counter.

Braeburn rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh.  “I didn’t complain when you were over here the last time you came to town.”

“I didn’t have nothin’ as strong as that,” Applejack countered.  “Four shots of a simple gin that has less percentage than any one of what you’ve been drinkin’.   And I sat around for a while before returning home.”

“So?  I was gonna do the same thing.”

“Yet you might come home with a little extra mark than just that of gettin’ drunk.  Come on, Twi.  Help me get him back to the farm house.”

Twilight nodded and helped Applejack pick up Braeburn, one foreleg around each of them.  They walked slowly down the street through Appleoosa – Braeburn had started acting mostly as dead weight – before heading out of town and back down the road towards the farmhouse.  At the house, they set Braeburn at the kitchen table and got him a large glass of ice water.

He nearly finished the glass before turning a bright green; Applejack ran to the cupboards and got a large metal bowl and set it under Braeburn before the stallion leaned over it and vomited into it.  The bowl was quickly filled and as quickly dumped into a larger bucket that Twilight ran to get before being placed back under Braeburn.  By the time the stallion had finished and the green was beginning to drain from his face, another bucket had been grabbed and was nearly full and the smell in the kitchen was so putrid that Applejack and Twilight had to open the windows even though it was still hot outside.  Braeburn finished the glass of water and stumbled back to his room before he lay down and fell into a sound sleep.

Braeburn didn’t wake up until late that night.  Applejack had already prepared dinner and was nearly finished eating along with Twilight when Braeburn dragged himself into the kitchen.  The stallion clumsily prepared a plate of food and pulled an aspirin out of the cabinet along with another glass of water.  The aspirin was gone, along with half the water, before he even started eating.

“How are you feeling?” Applejack asked.

Braeburn groaned through a mouthful of dandelion salad.

Applejack sighed.  “I know you feel bad about knockin’ the other pony off the ledge earlier today, but you can’t go around mopin’ and drinkin’ to try and get it out of your brain.  It’d be better if you talked about it.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” Braeburn said quietly.  “I’ve killed two ponies.  Most don’t even think about the first one.”

“But you didn’t actually think about killing them,” Twilight tried to explain.

There was a long silence where Braeburn didn’t respond.

“…did you?”

“Not the first time.  When I aimed that gun at the robber, I didn’t think about wanting to kill him.  I just thought I wanted to scare them into giving back the bag with the belongings and the pendant in it.  But I ended up aiming for his head and it killed him when I shot when they didn’t want to play fair.  But the unicorn on the ledge…”

Braeburn took a deep breath before continuing.  “I looked at him and thought to myself ‘I’m going to kill him before he kills me’.  Now, that wasn’t the first thought in my brain.  The first thought was ‘I have to protect Twilight and Applejack.  Maybe I can hold him off until he backs down.’  But when he knocked me down and that spear was above me, I figured I had no other option left but to kill him.”

Twilight and Applejack exchanged a look.

“I’m sorry.  I know your train leaves tomorrow and I know I should have been a little more careful.  It’s my fault.  If I had just gone straight to Celestia with a letter and told her about this I wouldn’t have been so in trouble with Blueblood and his men as I am now.”

“Braeburn… tomorrow, we’ll be getting on the train,” Twilight said.  “I promised you earlier I was going to write to Princess Celestia and tell her about what’s going on here.  I’m going to keep that promise.  So long as you keep out of trouble with Blueblood and his men from now on, I’ll be able to get Princess Celestia to stop Blueblood from going any further by next week.”

Braeburn smiled at Twilight.  “Thank you.  I’m glad you’re still around and still willing to help, especially after what happened.”

“You’re Applejack’s family, and she’s my friend.  I kind of feel like I should do something.”

“Anything is helpful to me right now,” Braeburn said.

Twilight returned the smile and hugged Braeburn.  The stallion returned the hug and closed his eyes as he felt a few tears run down his cheek.

The following morning, Applejack had to wake Braeburn up and get him breakfast.  The stallion was in a much better condition than he was the previous night though still reeling from his drinking binge and had to have another aspirin along with breakfast that morning.  Eventually, he was at the table eating with the other two ponies, then went into the guest bedroom to make sure their stuff was packed up.  As they were getting ready to leave, Braeburn called for a carriage to come to the farmhouse to take them to the train station and loaded his gun in case any more guards decided to pick on them.

It was a lovely morning.  The heat was not as oppressive as it had been the past few weeks and a few clouds could be seen on the horizon; the rainy season was coming soon and the weather was slowly starting to get cooler.  A little breeze even blew by as the three ponies climbed into the carriage and set off for the train station.  Soon, Braeburn would be signing ponies up who wanted to work in helping him dig the trenches around the apple trees to give the land nutrients and water after the upcoming floods.

The train had not yet arrived at the station when the carriage arrived, so Braeburn and the others took their time in getting the luggage off and saying their goodbyes as they walked to the ticket stand.  However, the look on the ticket pony’s face was not reassuring, and even less so was the news they received.

“I don’t know how long it’ll be until the train comes around,” the attendant said.  “I received a call from the Dodge Junction station saying they couldn’t even leave after a fuel leakage.  They can’t leave the station until a new part comes in from Manehattan.  It’s on rush order, but that could take a week or more.”

It didn’t take long for someone to figure out what was going on.

“I bet you Blueblood’s keeping the train held up,” Applejack said.  “After shouting to Captain Lancer about Twilight being in town, he likely knows about the connection between Celestia and Twilight and didn’t want her leaving.”

“Can we try and make it by running across the desert?” Twilight asked.

“You’d have to be crazy to do that,” Braeburn said.  “Even following the train lines, it’ll likely take you six days just to get to the edge of the desert.  Not to mention the fatigue and heat would slow you down even more, and even then you can’t pull all-nighters running that long.  I’m sorry, but I guess you’re stuck here for now.”

“What about mailing a letter the old fashion way?” Applejack asked.

“If Blueblood’s got the train held up at Dodge Junction, no mail will enter or leave here unless he says so,” Braeburn responded.  “Our best bet is to keep ourselves low for the time being and hope that he doesn’t rough anyone up.”

There wasn’t much left to do, so Braeburn and the others returned to the carriage and told the lead pony to take them back to the farmhouse.  The three sat in silence in the carriage as it went down the main roads through town and they didn’t even question what was going on when the carriage suddenly stopped.  Eventually, a knocking on the carriage door broke the silence between the ponies.

Braeburn opened up the carriage door to see their driver standing just outside.  “Excuse me, but it seems we have a bit of a problem.  We’re right by the hotel in town and there’s a large crowd gathered around blocking the road.”

Braeburn looked at the other two, who simply shrugged.  “Wait right here until we come back,” Braeburn said to the driver as they all climbed out of the carriage and walked over to the edge of the crowd.  It seemed as though everypony in Appleoosa was out in the intersection where the hotel was, and all were looking up at the top level where the suites were, particularly at one large window standing five floors above ground.

Cold Steel and Coal Dust were in the crowd towards the back and waved to Braeburn and the others.  Braeburn noticed them and Applejack, Twilight, and the carriage driver followed him over to where they were standing.

“Any idea what’s going on here?” Braeburn asked.

“I just got here myself,” Steel replied.  “However, there’s been word that a farmer named Wheat Stalk around here got harassed by some of the guard looking to take his crops for their own.  Said they were commandeering it by Blueblood’s orders.  Now, he wasn’t the strongest-looking guy, so I understand when he backed down from a fight initially, but he decided to take it to Blueblood himself.”

“How come there’s such a huge crowd here, though?”

“A few of them are supporters of Wheat Stalk,” Coal Dust replied.  “Most are involved in making it into bread somewhere down the line.  A few others are his family and friends in town.  The rest didn’t even know about the incident, yet already ideas between them are mixed.”

“Mixed?”

“Some think that Blueblood and his committee will help make Appleoosa more prominent on the map,” Steel explained.  “Others are also complaining of getting harassed by the guards and don’t want him here any longer.  I’ll admit Blueblood making this place more noticed sounds tempting, but after what he did in Dodge Junction, I don’t like it one bit.”

“We had enough trouble back there,” Coal Dust agreed.  “I just want a place where I can settle and not worry about

“It’s a lot worse than that,” Braeburn said.  “The train’s been waylaid in Dodge Junction and we’re assuming it’s his work.  My friend Twilight here has a connection with Princess Celestia and would have written her a letter explaining the situation, but now she’s stuck here after the train had a fuel leakage.”

“Certainly sounds like a lot more than a coincidence if there’s a student of Celestia here,” Coal Dust said, bringing a hoof to his chin as the ponies turned back towards the hotel suite.

The suite had a large enough window that some of the action could be seen from outside.  Blueblood was sitting in a chair with Captain Lancer next to him while a tan pony with a stalk of wheat for a cutie mark was pacing back and forth, likely trying to explain himself.  No one could hear anything from inside the hotel suite, though Blueblood eventually turned his eyes out of the window and down on the crowds below.  He let it linger there for a while before turning his eyes back towards the pony.

There was a long period of inactivity.  Eventually, Blueblood turned to Lancer and nodded.  Lancer pointed his spear at the pony and two unicorns came up on either side of him.  Both of them took hold of a leg with his magic before walking over to the window with the tan pony flailing around between them, unable to move from two golden auras surrounding his forelegs.  The pony was swung backwards, forwards, backwards, forwards, backwards…

The glass shattered as the tan pony launched out of the window.  Ponies closer to the window started fleeing and scattering in all directions as the streets erupted in shouts of panic and fear.  Broken glass started falling from the shattered window and eventually the tan pony himself crashed on the ground below with a few audible cracks and bleeding scratches from where he was hit by broken glass or the window.  A few ponies came up to him and started nudging him, but the pony wouldn’t respond.  Eventually a few others hoisted him onto their backs and started leaving as fast as they could to take him to a hospital.

Braeburn hardly thought twice.  “You bastards!” he shouted and pulled out the revolver, firing four times at the broken window and causing Applejack, Twilight, Cold Steel and Coal Dust to duck down and cover their heads with their hooves.  The first one, aimed at Blueblood and Lancer, missed as the two ducked out of the way behind the wooden walls.  Two more missed, but the fourth shot hit one of the unicorns in the horn.  The grey horn cracked then snapped off, falling five stories down and landing on the street before getting trampled by more of the panicked ponies.  The unicorn whose horn was broken fired off three shots of stored magical energy, two out the window and a third blasting a hole in the ceiling.

“What the hell was that!?” Applejack exclaimed.

“You broke his horn with that damn thing!” Coal Dust shouted.  “Even I know that’s the most sensitive part on the unicorn’s body!  He won’t be able to do magic for weeks even if the horn is reattached!”

Braeburn didn’t even turn to look at them.  He kept looking at the unicorn up in the suite, screaming in pain as his horn continued fizzling with magical energy.  “Were you and I even looking at the same thing!?” he nearly shouted back.  “Those bastards threw Wheat Stalk out of a five-story building, and from the looks of things I doubt he survived.  If something isn’t done, there’s gonna be more than just broken horns around here.”

“That’s true,” Twilight said, “but couldn’t you have been a little more civil about it?”

Braeburn almost seemed to ignore Twilight.  He holstered the revolver and started walking through town.  “I’ll meet you back at the farmhouse.”

That evening, long after Braeburn had returned home and shut himself up in his bedroom, Wheat Stalk was pronounced dead by blunt force trauma after falling five stories from the hotel suite.  The news was aired on the local radio station, along with an announcement from Blueblood that he didn’t feel sorry for him but would be repaying the hotel keeper for the damage to the window.

Braeburn felt that wasn’t enough.

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