Chapter 6
Anna died after a long illness.
No mystery.
No hidden killer.
No conspiracy.
I had enough ugliness without inventing more.
Before she died, she made three decisions Caleb never forgave.
Milo would keep the Rourke name.
He would remain primarily at my estate until he started school.
And if Caleb ever remarried, Milo would decide gradually where he wanted to live rather than being moved automatically.
At the time, Caleb agreed to all three.
Grief changes what people think they agreed to.
Judith had overheard him and Elise in the tack room.
So had Milo.
“What did they say?”
She looked at Caleb.
He closed his eyes.
Judith answered anyway.
“Elise said Anna made sure Caleb would always be second in his own son’s life.”
My hands tightened.
“And Caleb?”
“He said once Donovan stepped back, that would change.”
There.
The saddle connected everything.
Not just field authority.
Household gravity.
If I looked weaker, Caleb could become stronger politically.
If he became stronger politically, he believed Milo would naturally begin orbiting him instead of me.
A father trying to fix a relationship through rank.
Idiot.
I looked at him.
“Milo heard you say his mother made a mistake.”
His eyes filled.
“I was angry.”
“What did you say?”
Silence.
“Caleb.”
He whispered:
“That she should have given him my name.”
I looked away for one second.
Not because the sentence offended me.
Because Milo heard it.
A four-year-old already old enough to understand that his name could disappoint his father.
“Anything else?”
Caleb rubbed both hands over his face.
“I said she made him too dependent on this house.”
This house.
My house.
The place Milo slept after his mother died.
The place where her photographs remained.
The place where he could walk into my room at two in the morning because nightmares do not respect hierarchy.
Caleb interpreted safety as competition.
I stood.
“No saddle will fix that.”
He looked at me.
“No crew will fix it.”
Silence.
“No title will make Milo trust you more.”
That hurt.
Good.
Truth should reach the wound.
Then Elise snapped:
“You made sure he never had a chance.”
I turned toward her.
Finally.
The accusation I had been expecting.
May you like
Maybe she was partly right.
That mattered too.
