Raylan winced, head turning away with a break of a smirk at the brightness suddenly in his eyes as he dropped the wheelbarrow. Somehow, he had assumed John wouldn't do something like that but he was starting to get a sense of just how devilish the man was.

"Be awful hard to get around, with this thing on my hip." His smirk broadened. "They'd have to kill me for that," being his hat, "but its good for my shoulders. Can't work 'em out the way I want since this place is unamerican enough to not love baseball." No batting cages or bats to be found and it was a sad thing.

"I could use some extra hands if you're not runnin' late to get your hair done or somethin'. Got a fireplace in the house I holed up in that needs wood. Figure I could borrow some from the neighbours." 'Borrowed' was a generous term, considering he had no intention or returning it.