Buck sighed, putting down yet another losing poker hand. He picked up Ezra’s hat, threw it in the air in frustration and got it caught on the high light fitting.

 

“Bet you $10 you can’t get it down without using a ladder,” he challenged with a grin.

 

Josiah ambled in and Ezra smiled ferally.

 

“Mr. Sanchez? Could I ask a favor? Could I possibly climb on your shoulders to retrieve my hat?”

 

“Sure.”

 

Ezra clambered up and collected the headgear.

 

He turned to Buck with hand outstretched. “I believe you owe me $10.”

 

Buck cursed. He couldn’t win at anything.