It doesn’t take long for Doug to settle into a routine: pick up an apple, spin it in his hand while testing the firmness, and set it in the appropriate crate while the other hand picks up another apple. Granny Smith silently watches him sort through the first two orders, only having to step in once to point out a small hole near one of the stems. “Free protein,” Doug wryly jokes when she splits the apple in half to show the worm inside, but this merely draws an irate glare and several long minutes of silence.

The next time he finds one, Doug holds it up. “Another apple infested worm,” he dryly remarks with a sad shake of his head, rolling it next to the other one. He’s pleasantly surprised by the twinkle in Granny Smith’s eye, especially as she comes over to help him sort.

“Bright Mac loved growin’ his prize apples,” Granny Smith says, spinning apples in hoof before chucking them with perfect accuracy into the waiting crates. “Sometimes they’d get so big, the tree couldn’t hold ‘em up right. They’d break the branches if’n he didn’t let ‘em sag to the ground like Apple Rose after a cup’a cider. Mare never could hoof her cider, had to stick ta rose wines.” She glances at the apple in her hoof. “Now, where was I?”

“Big apples,” Doug says, wondering exactly how big these apples got. And if they have a ‘Big Apple’ in Equestria.

“Oh, right,” Granny Smith says. “Well, when she was just a wee little filly, Applejack had all sorts’a crazy ideas.” She snorts, a fond smile breaking out across her muzzle. “Well, that ain’t changed much. But she heard in school about how some pegasi lived up in cloud cities, and she thought that she could live in an apple city. So she went to Bright Mac’s prize apple, and cut herself a little door in the bottom. But there was no space inside. So she made some space, hollowin’ it out by eatin’ her way in. Well, little tyke must’a tuckered herself out somethin’ fierce, cause she took a nap in her new ‘home’.”

“Makes sense to me,” Doug says with a fond smile.

“Well, wouldn’t’cha know, day happened to be the day all the giant fruits’n veggies was gettin’ judged at the fair. And Bright Mac was particularly proud of this one, especially after it managed to put on a couple extra pounds since the last time he checked. Like it knew he wanted to win. And win it did! And there he was, gettin’ ready to accept his blue ribbon, standin’ as proud as he was the day lil’ Mac was born, and wouldn’t’cha know? Applejack went and decided she’s done nappin’, but can’t find the exit! So she started howlin’ somethin’ fierce. And nopony could figure out where it’s comin’ from!”

“Oh, no,” Doug utters, nearly coming to a stop as he listens, resting his tired arms.

Granny Smith motions for him to keep working, and he gamely soldiers on. “Well, Applejack heard all the commotion goin’ on around her, so she burst through the wall of her new ‘home’ covered in applesauce from head to hoof! Could barely recognize her! And then, Big Mac turned to Buttercup, and he said, ‘Dam! You told me fillies come from mare’s tummies!’”

“That’s priceless!” Doug chuckles, shaking his head.

"‘Cept, Buttercup’s too busy tryin’ to console her little filly to answer him, and keep from burstin’ out laughin’ herself! Took a while before we stopped the rumors that that’s how all Apples are born.” Granny Smith snorts, “Lotta mares’d pay good bits to get it done that way.”

Doug knowingly nods.

“Well, if you liked that one,” Granny Smith whispers conspiratorially, glancing to the open door…

The next few hours pass quickly, the soreness of Doug’s arms a fine price to pay to listen as Granny Smith regales him with stories of Applejack’s foalhood. By the time Applejack drops off her fourth cart of apples it’s nearly dinner, the clouds above about to release their bounty of rain and curtailing any further work.

Dinner itself is a somber affair, wheat bread and apple butter with assorted greens. Doug barely has the energy to enjoy the apple pie Applejack baked for dessert, and the mare herself finds her feigned enthusiasm fading fast. Big Mac barely says a word, hardly unusual for the stallion. Granny Smith looks to be nodding off, slipping outside after just a single slice of pie. Doug excuses himself shortly afterwards, heading to the guest bedroom.

Applejack stares out the window, thinking the same gloomy thoughts she had the entire time she was harvesting. What am Ah gonna do? What can Ah say, that’ll convince Doug that he can have a rich and fulfilling life here on the farm? And why am Ah gettin’ so hung up on Doug stayin’? If Ah was so desperate to have a stallion in my life, why didn’t Ah just herd up with Filthy the third time he asked?

A creaking from outside interrupts Applejack’s thoughts. She steps onto the rickety wooden porch, frowning as she spots her grandmare. She must’a dragged her favorite chair outside and fallen asleep listenin’ to the rain fall. Would she want to stay out here all night, risking the nipping cold at her age, especially with the storm likely to hit? Or would she wake up at some point and wander off to the clearing?

“Trouble sleepin’?” Granny Smith asks, her eyes remaining closed. Her rocking chair creaks as she slowly rocks back and forth; other than speaking, she appears fast asleep, just like she had all dinner.

Thinkin’ Granny sure looks an awful lot like sleepin’ Granny. “Eeyup,” Applejack answers, settling down at her Granny’s hooves. She’s spent many a long summer evening playing in this spot, on this porch. Listening to stories, or words of wisdom, or just the creak of the old rocking chair against the buzz of insects.

“Been a long time since you been out here with me,” Granny Smith remarks.

“Eeyup.” Applejack sighs. It has been a long time. Too long.

“Too long,” Granny Smith echoes, as if she knows exactly what is going on in Applejack’s mind.

“Eeyup,” Applejack says quietly with the slightest hint of a disappointed sigh.

“Been busy on the farm. Anypony can see that.” Granny Smith turns her head to the south, the twinned trees hidden in their cloistered grove, before sighing heavily.

“Eeyup,” Applejack says, her disappointment showing further. What else could she say?

There is a long pause, disturbed only by the creak of the old chair.

“He work all day,” Granny Smith eventually says, not needing to specify who ‘he’ is, and Applejack can’t decide if it’s a question or a statement.

“Eeyup,” Applejack eventually remarks with a slight upswing in her voice. She’d managed to get all the apples harvested today, though all of them had to put in a couple extra hours. It always was a struggle to find able and willing help for the farm. They’d been fortunate in years past, never needing to hire anypony on.

“Ain’t many ponies’d do that.” Granny turns to look at the orchards. Many of the trees Applejack harvested are in bloom, the ones she rushed through merely full of leaves. They’d grow well on their own.

“Eeyup,” Applejack agrees readily. If’n an earth pony wanted to work on a farm, it was easy enough to get your own piece of land, even if it was sharecropping ‘till you could support yourself and your herd.

“Ain’t many earth ponies’d do that, either.” Granny turns to look Applejack in the eye, though the younger mare doesn’t shift her gaze from the orchards.

“Eeyup,” Applejack says, her smile flipping to a frown. Why did her granny need to specify earth pony? Except to highlight that Doug ain’t an earth pony, which is so glaringly obvious that it hardly needs to be said. Didn’t mean she let up on him.

Silence returns to the farmhouse, not interrupted this time by the squeak of the chair. Granny Smith turns, this time looking at the road leading towards Ponyville.

“Heard he’ll be leavin’,” Granny says. Applejack can hear the twinge of disappointment, but it’s far smaller than her own.

“Eeyup,” Applejack says, her voice nearly catching in her throat.

“Ah suspect Ah won’t be the only one sorry to see him go,” Granny says, though this time there’s a hint of a smile.

“Ee-” Her voice does catch this time. Applejack takes a deep breath, nodding to herself. “Eeyup.”

There is another moment of silence, which Applejack finds odd because she’s sure Granny wanted to say more. She glances over. The elderly mare snores softly, her head slumping over. Applejack smiles to herself, quietly getting to her hooves. The message is clear, ain’t it?

*

The nondescript door closes behind Rarity as she lets herself inside the Crumble’s house, a wearied sigh at yet another long day with even less than normal to do. That expected surge never materialized, but at least it left her with long stretches to work out the kinks in Doug’s jackboots. She would have preferred more customers and leaving the work for tonight, but the uproar around the creature’s arrival disrupted more schedules than just hers. At least Pinkie Pie’s ‘Briefest New Pony in Ponyville’ party helped smooth out many of the ruffled feathers. Even if it lasted an unexpectedly short amount of time before she abruptly kicked everypony out, all in good fun.

Her blue eyes widen with glee at spotting her sire’s traveling bag resting along the wall, dashing into the kitchen with an ebullient smile. “Daddy!” she screams as elegantly as a sophisticated mare can, barreling towards the white unicorn standing at the table. His surprised reaction is to spin, dropping low and preparing to intercept her like she is a hoofball linebacker, though instead of stiffhoofing her to the ground he wraps his forelegs around her for a tight hug.

“Hey, sport!” Hondo Flanks exclaims, hoisting her to the air and gracefully spinning her around before gently dropping her back down on her hooves. He rubs a hoof through her mane good-naturedly, completely messing it up, though Rarity doesn’t seem to care. He belts out, his voice sounding like there’s a wall of laughter just waiting to burst forth, “You seem happy to see me!”

“Of course I am!” Rarity eagerly nuzzles her sire, trying to avoid that bushy mustache that somehow manages to tickle her no matter what. “I didn’t think you’d be home until Lauday!”

“Well, after hearing about all the excitement happening here, they let me come back early.” Hondo yawns exaggeratedly, a wink at one of the mares opposite him.

Rarity gives a chagrined smile and half wave to the other three ponies, not meaning to ignore them for so long. Her dam, lead mare Cookie Crumbles, flips her two-tone purple mane with a pink hoof and returns Rarity a knowing smile. Her sire’s fourth mare, Niminy-Piminy, holds one of those advanced weather textbooks with her white wings, her scowl briefly letting up to wink back at Hondo. Namby Pamby sits next to her dam, scribbling something and mumbling to herself. The filly briefly glances up, smiling and waving at Rarity, before returning to her drawing.

“Still have to get back before morning, though,” Hondo states almost formally, Rarity catching his meaning immediately. He’d be taking the redeye train, which leaves in less than an hour. “You okay?”

“Me? Perfectly fine,” Rarity returns. “Expedition bumped back to tomorrow. All the excitement turned out to be quite overblown, if I do say so myself.”

“Glad to hear it,” Hondo says with a grin. “Got worried with some of the rumors zapping around.”

“Any Brown Bettys left?” Rarity asks hopefully as she walks to the fridge, the least popular of the Apple Mix the most likely to have made it through the day. She rolls her eyes at her sire’s pungent burp. “I suppose I should have known.” Her horn grabs a plate of dried greens, taking it to the table. Hopefully the market will be better supplied tomorrow, once the fastest hay finishes and they can have something fresh again.

Rarity sits down next to Namby, scarfing down her dinner while inspecting her sister’s chaotic drawing. It’s of her classmates, each displaying the cutie mark they want to get; hers is a wing gripping a quill. A glance to her dahm’s book shows it’s the same one she’s been stuck on for a while now. “How goes moving up in the ranks?” she asks between bites.

“Sadly,” Piminy replies grimly, “knowing the routines for a proper march does little to help figure the proper placement of stratus and cumulus.” She sets the book down with a weary sigh as her attention turns to Rarity. She gives the barest flick of her head, out of sight of Namby, towards the filly’s bedroom.

Rarity gets the hint, quickly finishing the remainder of her dinner. “Come, Namby,” she says cheerfully. “You can show me the drawings you did in your room!”

“Night, sport,” Hondo calls as Rarity and Namby leave, getting a wave in return, before he sidles up next to Piminy.

*

“Anything interesting happen at work?” Filthy Rich asks Spoiled Rich as he enters their elegantly decorated bedroom. He removes his tie, draping it over his mahogany dresser, double checking his hair and smile in the mirror. He winks at his second mare, Silver Set, as she approaches from the bathroom. The silver earth pony grins back, walking up to the bed and setting her hooves on the edge.

“One order cancelled, but the other two look like they’ll go through.” Spoiled Rich looks up from her book, her haughty frown disappearing as she peers over her reading glasses. “I’ll have to ensure the others understand that Barnyard Bargains offers the highest quality of goods, in spite of the name.”

“Anypony worth their salt knows it is.” Filthy Rich eagerly walks up to Silver Set, the two trading nuzzles.

“Heard you had a bit of an altercation yourself,” Spoiled Rich says, going back to her book.

“Turned out to be nothing,” Filthy Rich replies as he mounts his second mare. He pauses, Silver Set huffing at the delay. “Did you know the Apples hired help?”

“She somepony we know?” Spoiled Rich asks indifferently.

“He isn’t,” Filthy Rich says with a grin, luxuriating in the knowledge that he has and his lead mare doesn’t.

Spoiled Rich frowns, removing her glasses to stare at her stallion. “Really.”

*

High in her Cloudominium, Rainbow Dash sleeps, snoring like she’s felling an entire forest with just her trusty rusty shoe. She dreams of her Wonderbolts routine, the one she’ll apply with in the coming months, and the adoration and accolades she’ll win when she wows them all!

At least, until the banging on her door manages to rouse her. She grumbles as she gets up, sleepy eyes narrowing as she spots her boss. “What?” she snaps out, though she loses a bit of her rancor when she notices the storm brewing above the Everfree. She wipes the sleepiness from her eyes as she mutters, “All wings on deck, huh?”

Fluffy Clouds merely nods, taking off to the next house down in Ponyville. Rainbow Dash glances back to her bed, a long, forlorn sigh leaving her muzzle, before she takes off to join the others.

Next Chapter: Ch. 22 - Midnight Bargain* Estimated time remaining: 13 Hours, 36 Minutes