“The seal is broken, Ernie.” I grinned into his shoulder. “We’re gonna have so many more deep talks like this.”
More coughing ensued, and Ernie took a large step back. “I need my inhaler.”
“I’m gonna go sketch out our matching tattoos now. I’m thinking pink roses or pretty ponies. Do you have a preference?”
“I’m leaving now.” Ernie shook his head and walked away. “Don’t think I won’t report this to human resources.” He inclined his head by way of greeting to the couple getting out of their black car, then left me to intercept them.
“Hi.” I wished I’d had time to freshen up to meet the government visitors, but this was real life with our type of therapy. “You must be Ms. Davenport,” I said to the stylish woman in black pants and a matching fitted blazer. “Nice to finally meet you in person.”
“Hello, Hattie Sutton.” Her smile was large and her lipstick a faded burgundy. “Call me Jerica.” She gestured to the tall man beside her. “This is Senator Kramer.”
Senator? What was going on? “Welcome to Hope Farms. We’re getting ready for a big birthday party tomorrow, so the farm looks a little more chaotic than usual. We could still take a tour, if you’d like.”
“Not today,” Jerica said, “but soon. Ms. Sutton, I’ve brought Senator Kramer today because he’s the chairman on the subcommittee on veterans affairs.”
“We appreciate your work on behalf of our military,” I said, still confused.
“It’s actually your work I’d like to talk about,” Senator Kramer said. “I have a proposition for you.”
I looked to Ms. Davenport, but she only smiled. “I’m listening.”
“First of all, I’d like to congratulate you on receiving the Truman B. Nelson grant.”
Ms. Davenport caught my blank expression. “He means a renewal. Four years, to be exact.”
“Seriously?” Happiness did not begin to describe the swell in my spirit. “We got it?”
“It’s not official yet,” she said. “The state budget gets approved tomorrow night in special session. I’ll shoot you an email as soon as I know. Senator Kramer here has been an advocate for our veterans’ mental health initiatives, specifically for the work you’re doing at Hope Farms.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said. “It matters.”
“You bet it does.” He took an appreciative survey of the surrounding fields. “Assuming the budget is approved as-is, we’ll award your grant in a black-tie ceremony at the capitol this January. We hope your entire team can attend.”
I thought of Ernie and bit back a grin. He’d walk through town in nothing but leather chaps before he’d go to Little Rock for a fancy affair. “Thank you. I’m thrilled with this news.”
“Ms. Davenport has been keeping me updated the past few months on your work here,” Senator Kramer said. “I’ve done my own research on your equine-assisted therapy program in Nashville, and you have a extraordinary resume.”
“Thank you.” Had I worn those two words out yet? I was pretty certain I had.
The senator’s attention followed Garrett, to where he now led his horse through the gate. “We still need to collect some data and have a few meetings, but I believe I can get the funding for a statewide project that duplicates what you’re doing here at Hope Farms.”
“That’s…incredible.” In my grant essays, I’d written about the need for more widespread therapy opportunities.
“With the success you and others have seen in equine-assisted therapy,” Senator Kramer continued, “why wouldn’t we want to bring that help to even more veterans?”
“You should.” It felt like a gift to talk to someone who seemed to get it, someone who cared about the men and women who sacrificed so much to protect our country. In my line of work and in the advocacy of veterans, I’d met with more naysayers than not. “I’ve seen firsthand the impact working with horses can have on our veterans. What they need is more locations for access, trained teams, and funding solutions.”
Senator Kramer and Ms. Davenport shared a smile. “We think you’re just the person to help us make that happen,” Ms. Davenport said.
“What exactly do you have in mind?” I asked.
Senator Kramer answered that one. “My long-range plan is to see six equine-assisted therapy locations opened within a year, with more to follow. You’d help design the program, recruit the employees, create the application process, and oversee it all.”
“That sounds very administrative.” I looked at my beloved work area. “I’m more hands-on.”
Ms. Davenport waved a fly from her shoulder. “But that’s why you’d be perfect for the job. You actuallydothe work, so you would know how to set up each therapy location and how to keep them optimally running.”
“We’re not here for your decision today,” Senator Kramer assured me. “We have our first task force meeting next week, and I’d like you to join us. We can fill you in more at that time.”
