Well, fuck. He really hadn't meant to wake her, but intentions only ever went so far. Beau dropped the hammer on the nearest post and turned to face her. Unloading the reasoning for his restlessness (stress over his son, over her, over bloody Odina) wouldn't be the kind, husband-like gesture to make at two in the morning. She was already stressed too, not working would do that.

"Fixing the fence," Beau murmured with a fake half smile. "What else?"