Chapter 4
Caleb finally spoke when Arthur left.
“You refuse to delegate.”
“That’s your defense?”
“It’s the truth.”
“Maybe.”
I sat opposite him.
“But you still cut the saddle.”
His jaw tightened.
He had expected denial to protect him longer.
Milo ruined that.
Children often do.
“You wanted field authority.”
“Yes.”
Good.
“Why not ask?”
“I did.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You complained.”
Different thing.
Caleb had spent two years telling me he deserved more.
That is not the same as explaining what responsibility he wanted, why he could handle it, and what he would do better.
Entitlement often mistakes repetition for argument.
He leaned forward.
“I’m Milo’s father. I’ve been inside this family seven years and I’m still treated like a guest.”
There.
Now we were closer.
Caleb Shaw.
Not Rourke.
Father of Milo Rourke.
Widower of my daughter, Anna.
The name difference had always bothered him.
Anna insisted Milo carry her surname.
Caleb agreed while she was alive.
After she died, apparently the agreement started feeling like erasure.
“You think I took your son.”
His face changed.
“You took everything.”
Silence.
Interesting.
“What did I take?”
“The house.”
“You moved here because you asked.”
“The staff answers to you.”
“It’s my estate.”
“Milo runs to you when he’s scared.”
That one mattered.
I looked at him.
“He’s four.”
“And I’m his father.”
“Yes.”
I said it plainly.
“You are.”
His anger faltered.
Maybe because he expected a fight over the title.
I continued.
“But fatherhood does not become larger because grandfather gets smaller.”
He looked away.
There.
The real competition.
Not only command.
Milo.
Caleb believed my influence diminished his.
Elise had fed that belief.
I knew before she said a word.
She stood near the window, watching her brother.
“What did you promise him?”
She laughed bitterly.
“Why does everyone assume this was my plan?”
“Because Caleb cuts straps.”
I looked at her.
“You design reasons.”
Her face hardened.
Good.
Then she said:
“After the fall, Caleb was supposed to bring your horse back to the overlook.”
I went still.
May you like
That sounded symbolic.
In Rourke history, it was.
