Nathan smiled, fingers still at work, following remembered patterns as much as seeking out the knots and rubbing them away with a touch that was firm enough to be effective but not too much.
"I'll buy her a pony." It had almost become a joke now, based on the first time he'd had to deal with one of his daughters upset with him – or rather, he thought her upset with him – and the only idea that had come to mind was 'pony'. He imagined it was a genetic memory issue over centuries of fathers and daughters, where pony equaled the ultimate solution to all problems, all fathers programmed to react the same way at least once in all seriousness. At least, he liked to think so, it make him feel less ridiculous.
"And she likes you, probably more than she likes me," he said, sliding his other hand into her hair to rub her head in the same fashion. "Now go back to sleep."