She took Amy’s money and cleaned off the station after the other woman left, grateful that Hannah had given up on her line of questioning—for a few minutes anyhow. When she turned to focus on the other woman, though, she noticed that Hannah was talking to Libby, and Libby was showing her a picture. Gosh, Libby was just a delight. The little girl was adorable today in green coveralls with a tiny pink shirt underneath, and Becca had twisted her hair into two cute knots atop her head.

As she approached, she heard Libby’s small voice piping up. “And this is where Daddy lives with Uncle Jack and Uncle Caleb and me.” She pointed at a picture, and Becca noticed it was one of a scribbly cabin with stick figures and some triangle things in the background. Mountains, maybe?

“Is that the ranch?” Hannah asked.

“No, it’s back home. Daddy says we’re gonna go back there once the cows stop having babies.”

It was like a punch in the gut.

Oh.

Maybe that was why Hank wasn’t calling her. Calving season was almost over. The ranch would settle on its feet once the herd wasn’t needing constant supervision, and then Doc would probably bring in a few new ranch hands . . . and Hank had no intention of staying. That was probably why he hadn’t enrolled Libby in preschool, either.

“Are you ready, Hannah?” Becca asked brightly. She moved to her nail station and gestured at the seat across from her.

“Why don’t you draw me a cow, Libby?” Hannah said to the little girl, and when Libby started to draw again, she touched her hair gently and then moved to sit with Becca. “Cutest little thing.”

“She really is.”

“Good thing she didn’t take after that father of hers.” Hannah widened her eyes innocently. “Her mother must be dainty. You know anything about her?”

“Haven’t asked. What color?” She shoved the nail polish rack forward with a little more vigor than she should have.

Hannah lingered for far too long, and by the time her nails were dry, she’d grilled Becca for information on everything. Where did they eat? What did she wear? What did he order? What did he wear? What time did they get back? What did they talk about? It was exhausting and she was relieved when Hannah finally went back to the hotel.

As Hannah walked out the door, she tittered and looked back at Becca. Sure enough, the moment Hannah left, Hank strolled in. He was wearing his cowboy hat and jeans, a checked blue-and-black shirt rolled up at the elbow.

God, he looked good.

“Daddy!” Libby flung herself up from the tiny pink desk and raced for him, the picture in her hand fluttering.