Kye was starting in on him again. Chance tried to rein in his temper and not snap, but his partner was trying his patience.
“Forget it, old man. I had this hat since we met. I ain’t getting rid of it.”
“That’s my point. That thing’s as old as Devon Day and the Sweetwater Kid. And it’s not like either of us could afford a good hat back then.”
“This was the first hat I ever bought. It’s fine.”
Kye looked at Chance from the corner of his eyes. “You know, an outlaw who can’t even afford a decent hat’s not gonna get much respect.”
Chance narrowed his eyes. “You’re getting on my last nerve, partner.”
“Just try this on and look in the mirror.”
Chance put hands on hips. “Partner, that is a black hat. I am naturally dark-complexioned. People with dark hair and eyes need a light colored hat to play up their color. This is a well known fact in the fashion world.”
“Humor me.”
Chance snatched the hat from Kye’s hands. He glared at it. What the hell was so wrong with his comfortable old brown hat anyhow? So it had a couple of threadbare spots … maybe a little torn place or two. And there was that bullet hole from when Kye was target shooting. He turned the new hat in his hands.
It was stylish, no question about that. The band was brown leather, with random silver designs fastened onto it. They kinda reminded him of suits in a deck of cards. The only problem was the damn color.
He glanced back at his partner. Kye crossed his arms and tilted his head. Chance rolled his eyes. He clapped the hat onto his head and stomped over to the store’s mirror.
“Now, young fella, that there hat looks fine on you.” The shopkeeper, alert to a possible sale, followed him across the floor. Of course, he might just suspect the two of them of plotting to steal something.
Chance ignored the man and stared at his reflection through narrowed eyes. Just as he’d thought, he looked — Chance widened his eyes and took another look. Actually, he looked pretty damn good in black.