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Wren had said that about Millfield three weeks ago. It gutted me. Venom was there. Dutch, Colt, Holden, Handful. More than a decade of my life and nearly every person I’d ever called family.

But I’d ridden back to Kettlewell after my first visit to Millfield and called it home without thinking. Wren and Sparrow were here. Robin, Dion, Simon, Moff and Nick had been growing on me, though I wasn’t going to tell them that.

I hadn’t told Wren I’d chosen Kettlewell. She’d said she might never go back to Millfield, and I didn’t want my answer to sound like a bid to win her. Sparrow lived here. I was her father. I could work out the Venom part with Dutch.

So I threw myself into work. The last three weeks were the busiest I’d had in years.

I saw Sparrow on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays, and more often when Wren’s schedule allowed. I knew her routine: which sleeve went on first, how she wanted her bottle upright with her back against my forearm so she could watch the room, and how far away I had to leave my glasses to keep them out of her hands.

She’s stopped studying me. For weeks, my daughter examined my face every time she saw me, deciding whether I still belonged there. Now she sees me and holds out her arms. The first time she did it, I got to her so fast Wren laughed. Sparrow caught my collar and hung on.

Back at the cottage, I built an advance package for the two facilities Tilden had added to the contract.

While I was with Sparrow, String covered the desk in Millfield. By the time I got back to the cottage, his handover was waiting: the alerts he’d cleared, the calls he’d taken and anything that needed my sign-off. He knew what to handle himself and when to bring me in.

I finished Tilden’s package, spent afternoons on the phone with Colt about the garage expansion and called into church on time every time. Dutch got the same answers he’d have got if I’d been sitting beside him. Nothing sat unfinished because I was in Kettlewell.

For a year, work was where I went so I didn’t have to think about anything else. Three weeks ago, it became work again—problems I knew how to solve, for a club I’d belonged to for years, with men who were pleased when I turned up.

My brothers came up from Millfield too. Colt first, then Handful, then Holden, each staying a night at the cottage. We ate takeout and caught up on everything that didn’t fit into a phone call. When I went to see Sparrow, Wren let them come with me. I got to watch each of them hold my daughter.

They all spent time with Wren on their own as well. I knew they’d gone to see her, but I didn’t ask what they’d talked about. Whatever she chose to tell them was hers.

Another three weeks passed. At the end of church today, Dutch asked me to stay on the call while the others left.

“Come home,” he said when we were alone. “Work the rotation like you used to.”

He’d spent the call going over the new contracts and Colt’s garage expansion. I thought he was bringing me up to date. He’d been making his case.

“And then take a long weekend up there every month. Four days, five if you want them, and I’ll build the calendar around it. Nobody touches those days. You’d see her more than most fathers who live apart see their kids, and you’d be back here where the work is.”

It was a good offer. He’d thought about it before the call and protected the time. Tilden was expanding, and Dutch was used to turning to me across the table. I could see why he wanted that back.

“No,” I said.

Dutch put his hands flat on the table. “Explain.”

“Four days a month is forty-eight days a year,” I said. “She’s eight months old. In four days she can start doing something she wasn’t doing when I left. She sat up on Tuesday—nobody was expecting it, it wasn’t scheduled, she just sat up looking extremely pleased with herself. And I was there for it.”

“I’ve got two kids, brother. You don’t have to sell me on that.”

“Then you know what I’m turning down, which makes me wonder why you are asking me to give up time with my daughter?”

Dutch held my gaze through the screen. “As your president, I’m telling you I need you here.”

I pictured Sparrow reaching for me when I came through the door. I wasn’t giving up the ordinary days with her.

“You have me for the work, Dutch. What you don’t get is me back in Millfield, four hours from Sparrow. I won’t be a visitor in my daughter’s life.”

“So what are you asking me for?”

“I’m not asking for anything. I’m telling you where I live.” I put my forearms on the desk. “But if you need it more plainly, here it is.

“I’m tech. That’s the job. I need a connection and my kit, and I’ve got both. Response times haven’t moved. You’ve had months to find a difference and there isn’t one—ask String, ask Handful, ask Tilden’s man who said the advance was the best he’d seen from anybody.”

Dutch nodded. “That’s all true.”

“Wren and Sparrow come first. String will keep covering when they need me, same as he’s done since I got here.”