Healing Through Connection: Erin Cain and the Grace Reins Mustangs
Originally published in Issue One of The Western Lensman, now shared digitally for readers across the West.
This piece first appeared in the inaugural issue of The Western Lensman, our Heritage Issue. It remains one of the stories readers mention the most. Today, I’m sharing Erin Cain’s feature here in digital form so more people can connect with her work, her Mustangs, and the healing found on her land.
What Erin has built at Grace Reins Equine Therapy in Placerville goes beyond a program. It’s a sanctuary shaped by patience and the bond between trauma-surviving horses and the people who come to stand beside them. Colorado’s Western Slope isn’t just the setting for her work. It’s part of the medicine.


Erin’s path began with a deep love for horses and a desire to help others. In her twenties, she discovered equine-assisted therapy and saw firsthand how horses can meet people exactly where they are. No judgment. No pressure. No expectation. Just presence. That clarity stayed with her. Years later, she moved to San Miguel County and created Grace Reins, a place where rescued Mustangs and individuals navigating emotional challenges find new footing together.
Many of the horses that arrive at Grace Reins carry scars from neglect or fear. Rebuilding trust takes time. It’s the same for the people who come to Erin. Veterans learning to slow their breathing. Kids discovering boundaries. Adults trying to find a moment of peace. Over time, the horses soften. The clients soften. And in that parallel, healing begins.
Erin works with children as young as three, veterans, adults moving through grief, and those whose lives have been stretched thin by strain or trauma. What people feel on the land is part of the process. The quiet. The rhythm. Space to breathe. The Western Slope has a way of grounding a person, and Grace Reins honors that.
Her nonprofit collaborates with schools, mental health professionals, veterans’ groups, and volunteers who help care for the Mustangs. The work is hard. Rescuing, housing, and rehabilitating horses is expensive and demanding. But Erin stays committed to the long view. Every breakthrough — a Mustang lowering its head to accept touch, a child learning to stand their ground, a veteran finding five minutes of calm — affirms the purpose of the place.
She hopes to expand in the coming years with more Mustangs, more programming, and additional support for first responders, grief communities, and youth facing emotional challenges. The need is growing. And so is the impact.
Every day at Grace Reins is different. Some days are filled with quiet progress. Some offer profound connection. All of them matter. Erin’s work is a reminder that healing isn’t loud. It’s steady. It’s patient. It begins with trust. And it grows when a person is willing to show up and let the horses lead.



