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Chapter 13

Bodhi

Icouldn’t stop thinking about Wren. That wasn’t new. For as long as I could remember, he’d always taken up space in my brain, even if he was just humming in the background. But something had shifted in my head and even though I couldn’t quite put my finger on what, it was there, nonetheless. The Halloween event had been the catalyst, but even at Fern’s birthday dinner Monday night had been different. Wren had stayed close to me, had been freer with his touches and his smiles, and I couldn’t keep my gaze off him. It bothered me that we hadn’t gotten a chance to talk last night, since he’d convinced Ville to have dinner out, and it rankled that he’d chosen Ville over me to dine with.

In all that thinking, I had come to some realizations. Ones I needed to share with Wren, even though my instinct was to keep it to myself. But Chandra and I had been working toward me being able to share things, to reframe my mindset about certain aspects I held about myself, and the one person I needed to tell these things to Wren.

“Mr. Harrington.”

I jerked my gaze to Marielle, who sat across from me at the table in the dining room we’d commandeered. I just didn’t have space in my office to spread out and this way we could see each other while we went through everything.

I tried for a smile. “I told you to call me Bodhi.”

“Yes, well. You didn’t answer when I did the first time. Or the second. Or the third for that matter, so I thought I’d better change it up.” The corners of her mouth quirked up.

“Does Carter let you get away with the sass?” I asked teasingly.

Marielle’s smile grew. “He prefers it.”

I did too, actually. I appreciated her professionalism, but I was glad she felt comfortable enough with me to be her true self. We’d met for a short while yesterday so she could get a better idea of what I needed from her and she’d shown up this morning prepared. Dad had taken my guests on the trail ride for me so I could have this meeting and Wren had gone with them. I couldn’t wait for them to get back so I could corner Wren. I hadn’t had a chance to exchange more than a greeting with him earlier.

And there went my mind again. I cleared my throat. “I apologize for letting my attention wander. Where were we?”

“Well that depends on where I lost you,” she said. She clicked something on her laptop then raised her gaze to mine expectantly.

I racked my mind to find the last thing I remember contributing to. “Sky Spotted Horse arrives next month.”

“All the way back there then,” Marielle muttered then tilted her head. “Do you need my assistance with her onboarding?”

“No,” I said after thinking about it for a second, deciding to not comment on her snark. I had been the one not paying attention after all. “I’m well versed in the paperwork, and Mom handles all the filing and shit. She’s been doing that for almost thirty years.”

She nodded once. “Well, I’m a phone call away, if you need assistance. Next week, Carter and I will be going through his mountain of nonsense.” She waved a hand, as if dismissing that statement. “But that does bring us to what we were discussing. As I understand it, even though Ms. Spotted Horse is a licensed therapist who specializes in equine-assisted therapy, you won’t be providing a clinical service with this program.”

It wasn’t a question but I answered it anyway. “Correct. Just working with horses can be therapeutic to most people.”

“That eliminates the need to set up electronic medical records and changes the scope. Essentially, the veterans’ program will just be an offshoot of your current business. It’s best to set up a separate bank account that will be specifically for this program.”

“Makes sense.”

Marielle had a piercing gaze when she wanted to, and she focused it all on me. “Carter’s grant, as well as any additional funds, will go into that account. The recordkeeping, because it’s a non-profit, must be spotless. Every dollar has to be accounted for. Every penny.”

I nodded so she knew I was paying attention. Her intensity did not waver.

“You also have to decide if you’re going to add a percentage of the proceeds from the Yellow Ribbon to the account or a set dollar amount. And when each deposit will be made.”

“Both options have pros and cons, and I haven’t landed on which is the most appropriate use of funds.”

Marielle narrowed her eyes, turned her attention to her laptop screen for a moment, then focused back on me. “Because of the kind of program you’re running, after the initial spending, your costs will be known. I’d recommend a quarterly set amount. But I’m not an accountant. Do you have one?”

My face must have said it all because she scowled and snorted at the same time.

“I’ll put together a list of reputable CPAs who can handle this type of work. Really, Bodhi, an accountant is necessary.”

“Yes, ma’am,” I responded quickly.

Marielle’s facial expression was unimpressed, but I saw the humor behind her eyes. After a second, I cracked and grinned. It took her a moment or two longer, but then she offered me a thin smile. I really liked her no-nonsense approach to things, and considering how Carter was, I could see why they got along so well.

“Now, about the grant,” she began, once again focusing on her screen.