And his chest gave this funny little squeeze, because in that moment, Hank knew he was completely and utterly out of his depth. He knew fishing, and he knew ranching. He knew trapping and how to survive in the wild on limited supplies for months on end.

He knew absolutely nothing about princesses. Or pink hair. And clearly these were important things to Libby, and he had no idea what to do. Uncle Ennis always laughed and said that a girl would be the death of him, but he’d just brushed it off. Now he suspected the old man was right.

“You’re a very beautiful princess,” he said gruffly, and put his hand out. “But it’s past your bedtime.”

Libby hopped out of the chair the moment the bright pink cape left her shoulders, and she bounded over to him. “Daddy, can I come back and play princess with Miss Becca again tomorrow?”

His throat locked up. Play princess? “Little bit, I don’t think—”

“It might not be tomorrow, but the next time you’re in town, I’ll be happy to do your hair, Miss Libby,” the beautician said, smiling. “As long as you promise to stay away from the gum!”

Hank clenched his jaw. He couldn’t shell out hundreds of bucks to fix a kid’s hair, no matter how cute his kid was. How much did a hairdo cost, anyhow? He always shaved his own head when it got too annoying in the summer. He didn’t know anything about girl hair. Even so, he had to say no. He held Libby’s coat out to her. “Libby, she’s busy.”

“It’s all right,” Becca said. Her smile was tired but pleased. “It doesn’t take long and she’s so cute I don’t mind. As long as you don’t tell my other customers, it’s on the house.” And she winked at his daughter as if they shared a secret.

Libby just giggled wildly as she shoved her arms through her coat.

Right. Well, that answered that. He pulled out his credit card and held it out to the woman.

Becca held a hand up. “No charge.”

Did she think he was poor? Gritting his teeth, he held the card out again. “We took up hours. I can pay.”

She shook her head, ignoring his surly mood, and went around him to get the door of the salon. “I didn’t have plans this evening anyhow, and I got to make a new friend. I’d say we’re even.”

A friend? Him? That was an odd thing to say to a fella you just asked out. But then Libby giggled and Becca looked down at his daughter, and he felt like an idiot.

Not him. His kid. Right.

His face burned. “Sure I can’t pay?”

“I’m sure.” She beamed at him. “Have a good evening.”