"You just pissed at it for falling down," he asks, looking from the beam to the booted foot that kicked it. His gaze keeps trailing the ground, back up along the trees to the horizon, given meaning again by a sun that rises and sets. Jude knows about shit you say and shit you don't, actions that don't make sense to anybody else. He's not going to drag it out of her.

But maybe there are better things to do with it than look at the wreckage.

"I'm gonna loop back to the inn and see what's left over from lunch," he says. "If you aren't out here 'cause you need anything, you can come with."