“Just because it’s hair doesn’t mean it’s not a worthwhile job.” He pointed at his brother, irritated at his casual attitude. “She got all that gum out of Libby’s hair so I didn’t have to cut it like you suggested. She’s responsible and she cares about her clients.” Every time he went to her place, she was squeezing someone in at the last minute or fixing a trim, just because she knew it was important to her clients. Becca worked long hours and he didn’t want Jack talking down about her.

“Okay, well . . .” Jack crossed his arms, thinking. “If you can’t steal her away, maybe take her to a big dinner. A nice steak.”

“Already did that.”

“Ask her friends,” Caleb suggested.

They both turned to look at him.

“Ask her friends,” their normally silent brother repeated. “They’ll know what she likes.”

He had a point. Hank rubbed his beard thoughtfully. “She does have coffee with the new schoolteacher on Saturdays.”

Jack gestured. “There you go. Go talk to the schoolteacher.”

“Right now?”

“What are you waiting for? For her to decide she wants to be casual permanent-like?”

Ugh. Just the thought made him want to tear his beard out. “No.”

“Then, go.” Jack gave him a shove. “And take Caleb with you since he seems to be the idea man.”

“Me?” Caleb echoed. “Why me?”

“Because he clearly can’t do this on his own.” Jack shook his head. “If the word ‘casual’ comes up again, you put a stop to it, since this fool clearly won’t.” He gestured at a scowling Hank. “I’ll get the hay unspooled and start feeding the cattle. You two hurry in to town, talk to the teacher, and then come back and tell me what she said so we can plan this out.”

Hank narrowed his eyes at Jack. “Why are you so gung ho about this?”

He just patted his stomach. “I miss the breakfast doughnuts.”

Figured.

*   *   *

An hour later, Hank and Caleb parked in front of Painted Barrel’s elementary school. The sign out front read HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!! And Hank bit back a curse. “It’s summer break. School’s not in.”

Caleb nudged him with an elbow, then unbuckled his seat belt. “Might still be there. Summer school.”

Right. Becca was always bugging him to get Libby signed up for that. Pre-K. Said Libby would benefit from having friends her age. He thought of his independent little girl and wondered. She never seemed lonely. Maybe she was one of those kids that didn’t need anyone but family. Heck, Hank and his brothers had grown up just the three of them with Dad and Mom out in the wilderness . . . except Libby didn’t have brothers.

He’d think on it.

They got out of the car and put their cowboy hats on, and Hank felt real weird walking into the school. Like he shouldn’t be there. The moment they walked in, he saw the office to the right and headed there. A woman sat at the desk, fussing with her computer, and gave him an impatient look when he cleared his throat.