The hat stops him from running his hand through his hair properly, an unconscious tell that is always accompanied with a sigh. He still passes the backs of his curled fingers over the inch and a bit of hair he does have access to over the top of his ear. His hand lingers on the back of his neck and he shrugs, giving the stiff muscle a squeeze before lowering his hand again to grip the edge of the counter.

"Because you looked like you needed help." Need there be any other reason? He doubts Raylan can manage looking out for Malcolm on his own, despite the marshal's protestations.