A Train Conductor and a Rich Filly
Please see the Author’s Notes for more about the previous chapter’s poll.
“I did,” Kestrel admitted. She could see the faces in the flames now. They were almost as clear as if she was looking into a picture. “And not just once.”
Silver, originally bursting with enthusiasm, noted the somber tone in Kestrel’s voice and quieted down. Her wings slowly folded closed by her sides, and the grin plastered to her muzzle began to droop. Soon, all was quiet, save for the crackling of the logs in the fire.
“There was a train conductor, once,” she said, shaking her head. “His name was Highball. Tumbleweed and me met him way back when. I was just… I dunno. Maybe twenty at the time. But the two of us, we’d just robbed a gunsmith in Dodge Junction, and Dodge ain’t a big town. Sheriff and his colts were on us like white on rice. We managed to lose ‘em by getting’ aboard a train before it left station. Hidin’ in the shadows of a freight car, waiting for the Law to pass.”
She remembered that feeling of terror mixed with excitement. They could hear the hooves of the deputies pounding across the rail yard, tearing open car after car to look for them. She remembered the taste of her revolver’s handle in her mouth when the door opened and a shadow appeared across the floor, and she thought they were done for. And she remembered the quiet look the stallion who opened the door gave her and Tumbleweed, hiding in the corner, before he winked at them and closed the door.
“He found us hidin’ in the back there,” Kestrel said. “Yet he didn’t say nothin’ to the Law. Just started up the train and went on his way. We hid in that car until it stopped at the next station, and that’s when he came back to get us. Brought us food, water, gave us a place to lie low. I didn’t know why he done it. Still don’t, I reckon.”
Kestrel sighed and let happier memories come back to her. “We stayed in that area for a while, Tumbleweed and I. Got to know Highball real well. He was… he was always sweet on me. Maybe he didn’t say nothin’ to the Law because he thought I was beautiful. He certainly called me beautiful all the time. He was gonna propose, get me outta this life once and for all, after about a year of it.”
Silvie covered her muzzle in excitement and dread. “Did… did he?”
After several moments, Kestrel shook her head. “No,” she said. “His company got bought out by the Apple Family conglomerates. They reorganized the rail lines, wanted to send him north. He wanted me to go with, but I couldn’t. I was wanted. Law was hunting me down. If I went north, I woulda been walkin’ right into the jaws of the monster. Wouldn’t be long before they found me and took me down, and Highball with me.”
“He didn’t stay with you, then?” Silver asked, even though she knew the answer.
“He had three little brothers to look out for,” Kestrel said. “He needed the pay. And he weren’t about to bring them all into this outlaw life, ruin theirs for me. So that was the end of it. We met one last time, and he gave me the fetlock ring he was gonna give me when he proposed anyway. And then he was gone. I ain’t ever seen him since.”
Kestrel had to close her eyes as that long-since scarred-over pain clawed at her heartstrings again. She could have been a wife. She could have been a mother. But the world pulled them in two different directions, and love left her like a steam engine down the tracks.
Silver shuffled a little bit closer to Kestrel, sitting just close enough to barely touch the older mare’s back with her wingtip. “I’m… I’m sorry, Kestrel.”
“Don’t be,” Kestrel said with a rough grunt. “It’s in the past.”
Several seconds passed by before Silver spoke up again. “And… the other time?” Her voice was fragile and worried, filled with concern.
Kestrel squeezed her eyes more tightly shut. Those wounds weren’t so scarred over. “Her name was Faith. Faithful Heart.”
Silver seemed somewhat surprised to hear that Kestrel’s second love wasn’t also a stallion, but she didn’t comment on it. Instead, Wanderer took over the story in the ensuing silence. “Sweet Faith was a regular around here for some time,” he said. “She was the daughter of an oil magnate, some fellow by the name of Black Gold. Nice as could be, and plenty pretty, though Miss Irons would have what’s left of my stallionhood if she heard me say that.”
“Her father didn’t like her spendin’ her time with wanted ponies,” Kestrel said. “He didn’t like me the least bit. Thought I was a terrible influence on her, thought I was gonna get her killed. Thought I was gonna ruin her life.” Her wings sagged and her head fell. “Can’t say he were wrong about all that.”
“What happened to her?” Silver asked in a quiet voice.
“Mister Gold made it pretty certain that he didn’t want to see any of us no more,” Kestrel said. “He’s an oil magnate, he’s rich as can be. He could buy the police force of Canterlot if he wanted. He made it pretty clear I was to never see Faith again, or else he’d get all us here arrested and hanged. And he… well, that was it.”
After several moments of silence, Kestrel dug into her duster and pulled out a heart-shaped golden locket. Its surface was scratched and tarnished from wear, but it opened easily at a twist of her feathers. It held only two things: a picture of Kestrel in her duster standing next to a dainty pegasus by the lake, and a single white feather. Kestrel felt her throat begin to seize up with emotion at the memories, so she hastily closed the locket and returned it to its pocket, her other wing wiping at her eyes.
“At this point I… I ain’t lookin’ to do it again,” Kestrel said. “I lost two ponies I loved ‘cause of this life. It ain’t fun and games, no cops and robbers like Faith thought. It’s tough. It’s hard. And at the end of the day, there ain’t no happiness for ponies like us.”
She quietly stood up and rubbed at her eyes some more. By this point, she could hardly keep them open. “I should get some sleep,” she muttered. “Tumbleweed’s gonna want to head down to Rock Ridge at first light, see what we can find. I need to think about where I’m gonna look anyway.”
Wanderer nodded and began to strum his guitar some more. “Take care, Kestrel. Sleep well.”
“I’m sorry if I brought back bad memories,” Silver said in a quiet voice.
Kestrel managed a tired smile and patted Silver on the shoulder. “They ain’t bad memories, Silvie,” she assured her. “They hurt ‘cause they was good.”
With one last goodnight to the pair of pegasi, Kestrel turned away from the fire and sought out the secluded shelter of her lean-to. She could do a little thinking about what she would do in Rock Ridge in the morning before sleep overtook her.
1. Go to the saloon. Everypony talks about somethin’ in the saloon. I’ll find somethin’ good there to bring back to Tumbleweed, and maybe take a few shots of whiskey while I’m at it.
2. Check out the sheriff’s office. Sometimes the sheriffs post good bounties for anypony to take. We’re far enough away from Appleloosa that nopony knows we’re wanted out here, and given the size of that place, they probably pay well for dangerous work like that.
3. Visit the post office. Lotsa news passes through the post daily. Somepony there has got to know somethin’ good, and maybe what they know’ll be better than that wagon we hit today.
4. Walk the streets. Sometimes the best way to find somethin’ interestin’ is to just listen for gossip in town. Rock Ridge ain’t big, but it ain’t small either. Who knows what I’ll find if I just walk and listen?
(Confidence Required: 40 Votes)