“And you still won without me.”
“Barely,” Miller added.
“Probably thanks to the detailed drawings you’d prepared of game strategies. Very thorough.”
He inclined his head. “I hear that sarcasm.”
“I guess you still take success very seriously.” Miller’s teasing face disappeared, and I quickly changed the subject, sad I’d chased away the boy I’d adored in my youth. “Your property is beautiful.” Hope Farms was Miller’s brainchild. He’d left Arkansas after college, then taken that entrepreneurial brain to Silicon Valley. While there he’d recruited some of the smartest minds in the country to help him bring his ideas to life. Drones he’d created were now used in third world countries to safely transport water to villages in need. Then tragedy struck Miller’s family and he came back home.
“I’ll take you on a tour when we’re done here.” Measured pride softened his voice. “The place is coming along. We have two years under our belt, and word’s getting out. We currently see vets from ten counties and three states, and we have a waitlist that keeps me up at night.”
“Sounds like I came at just the right time then.”
His hesitancy was unmistakable and odd. “I always thought you’d be a case worker or go into medical field,” Miller said. “I’m a little surprised you chose to work with horses. What is it about them that attracts you?”
I was used to this question, and the answer came easily. “Horses don’t allow any artifice. And for the emotionally wounded, putting on a front is like putting on your pants. It’s part of the daily outfit.” I saw recognition in his eyes. Miller had worked with vets long enough to witness this on a daily basis. “But a horse won’t let you get away with that. If I go into that ring and just pretend to be okay, but inside I’m an anxious mess, the animal’s going to pick up on my anxiety. Horses mirror our feelings, so if it’s a client’s job to get the horse to trot, he’s going to have to get still within himself in order to calm down the horse to get compliance.” If only the men I’d loved had been that transparent and easy to read, I wouldn’t still be returning wedding gift cards and toasters. “It sounds straightforward and easy, but it’s not. The timeline you’ve given me isn’t completely realistic, Miller.”
“You have the reputation of a miracle worker. Surely six months is adequate.”
“Any miracles that have occurred are not of my doing.”
“Very humble.”
“Veryfactual,” I said. “It’s all about the bond between the client and the horse. But I won’t rush that. Not for you, not for this farm, and not even for the hope of an extended contract.”
“Six months is enough time. Your government grant expires then, and it will be up to themandme if it’s renewed.”
“I’ve already started the application renewal process.” That beast of an application required more writing than my master’s thesis.
“But you need a location, right?” Miller countered. “So, what’s yet to be determined is whether Hope Farms will be available to you come winter.” He rubbed at a spot at the base of his neck, as if I’d caused a pain there. “Moving on. Let’s discuss this job.”
What exactly was going on? Why even have me here in the first place if he didn’t want my services on his farm? “I’m not hearing much unbridled enthusiasm.”
“Look, Hattie, I’m going to be honest with you.”
“That is a fabulous idea.” And probably something that should’ve happened much sooner.
Miller ignored the buzzing from his phone and silenced the ringer. “Adding this element of therapy was my sister’s idea.”
“And a very fine idea she had.”
“Though this is my farm and my business, I do have a board I’m accountable to—and an overbearing sister who will join our team in the future. Kayce read about the success of equine-assisted therapy and got the board behind her.”
“Because this therapy works.”
“I’m not debating whether your services will offer value to our veterans. My concern is how it will fit with Hope Farms. We’re still fairly new, and I don’t want to be too diversified too soon.”
“Spoken like a true businessman.”
“Spoken like someone who wants this place to support itself and not rely on fly-by-night grants. We just branched out into farm-to-table dinners here on the property, which is definitely in the trial phase. So now we have livestock, vegetable and flower gardens, the pumpkins, and of course the Christmas trees. It’s…a lot. Were it not for the funding my sister found, your equine therapy wouldn’t be happening.”
“But you will give this a fair try, right?”
“You’re going to have to show me some pretty impressive data for me to continue the program.”
“I know what I’m doing, Miller.”
Miller leaned back in his seat, his t-shirt stretching taut across broad shoulders. “I did check your references,” he said, moving on.
