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Two days in and Meg was sorer than she’d been in years. She was no stranger to ranch work, but three years in the school resource room, helping kids figure out math problems, had not maintained the muscles she needed to haul lodgepoles and build rock jacks.
Today, however, she would not be repairing fences, and she was looking forward to giving those muscles a break, even though she’d had to get out of bed at a ridiculous hour.
“Still up for this?” Zach gave Meg a long look over the top of his coffee cup.
“Totally.” She raised her own cup to hide the yawn she was fighting. It was 4:00 a.m. and she hadn’t gotten all that much sleep, but yes, she was game. The need to prove something to...well...everyone...hadn’t diminished, but now that she was living on her cousin’s ranch, in the bedroom that had once belonged to her aunt and uncle, reality had begun to set in, slowly, but surely, making her wonder if she had been crazy to do what she’d done, as in, committing to three months on the MCC. Embarking on a new path because of what amounted to a dare.
What if this was the beginning of a pattern?
What if years of repressing her own needs was about to culminate in a rampant onslaught of impulsive behavior?
“Meg?” Zach waved his hand and she blinked.
“Sorry.” She wasn’t her best without sleep, which meant she was going to have to stop second-guessing herself and accept that she’d done something impulsive. Have faith that it wasn’t the beginning of a downhill slide.
“If anyone gives you shit today—Cody and Shane included—I want to know about it. They have a tendency to dick with the newbs.” His mouth twisted. “All in good fun, but it slows things down.”
They were moving the cows to the high pasture, a place that couldn’t be accessed by cattle trucks, which meant a long day on horseback slowly pushing a couple hundred cows up the mountain. One corner of Meg’s mouth lifted ironically. “I’m a teacher, Zach. I can handle my own ‘shit.’” She was also a grown-up.
“These aren’t six-year-olds.” His mouth quirked. “Well, maybe there’s a resemblance—which is why I’m warning you.”
Meg rolled her eyes. Zach was all about control, the result of too much responsibility too soon. His brothers were both charmingly laid-back—except when they were with Zach. He was the unquestioned boss of the MCC. He also, in Meg’s opinion, spent too much time alone. At least Jason socialized with the rest of the crew. Zach kept to himself unless he was lining out the crew or working with them.
The sound of boots in the hallway brought both of their heads around. Shane walked in, ruffling his dark blond hair with one hand. He yawned and went straight for the coffee. Cody followed a few seconds later and then the kitchen was quiet except for the sound of massive quantities of coffee being consumed.
“Jason’s going as far as the river,” Shane said as he refilled his cup.
Meg’s head came up mid-yawn and Zach’s jaw moved sideways. “Why?”
“Len can’t make it. He texted me about eleven last night.”
“Len is going to get his ass fired.”
Both Cody and Shane nodded. Zach shot Meg a look. “Len is our mechanic. He fills in where we need him, and we needed him to fill in today, since I’ve got that...” his mouth tightened grimly “...thing I have to go to today in Marietta.”
A thing that he apparently resented having to go to. Meg made a note to ask Cody about it later. She wondered if he was sour about the meeting, or resentful of having to leave his ranch.
“The four of us can handle it,” Shane said.
Zach gave his head a shake. “You can use the extra hand. But if Jason hurts himself again, I’m going to be pissed.”
“I’ll pass that along,” Cody said with a half-smile.
Jason ached. Every part of him.
His routine since returning from Sweetheart to the MCC was simple—he forced his sore body out of bed and gritted his teeth as he got dressed, made coffee, skipped breakfast. He went to work. As the day wore on, some parts of him loosened up. Others didn’t. When he got home at the end of the day, he stood under the shower until the hot water ran out.
Before Big Jim had pounded him into the side of the horse trailer, he and Cody and Shane had often hung in the shop, where Shane was putting together a ’65 Chevy truck under Len’s tutorage. Now he went to bed early, read until he fell asleep, gave his body some additional downtime. He needed to be back in fighting form quickly if he was going to get the colts ready for the October sale. He’d started the groundwork, but he was going to have to climb on board at some point, which was going to be close to impossible for a week or two. So far Zach hadn’t mentioned that small fact, which was why he was kind of pushing things today. He wanted to find out just what he was capable of, and how far he had to go before he started riding unpredictable animals.
The air was damp and smelled of wet pine needles when he stepped out of his cabin into the darkness. He pulled the door shut and pushed his hands down into his pockets as he headed toward the activity at the barn. He was the last to arrive, when usually, as the wrangler, he was the first.
All three cow dogs—Jinx, Pep and Gopher—were lying on the back of the flatbed truck, chins on their front paws, frozen in place except for their watchful gazes, which shifted with every movement the guys made, as if the crew might somehow slip off without them. Fat chance. The dogs were the backbone of the operation.
Brandon had already saddled his mount and he was brushing down Jason’s horse, Bob. On the one hand, Jason appreciated the kid helping him out. On the other, it made him all the more aware of the fact that he was running at half speed. Cinching and mounting were the two things he had trouble with, and even though his ribs were only cracked and bruised, and not broken as he’d initially feared, the doctor had told him to take it easy for at least four weeks.
Take it easy and do what? Hang around his cabin and play video solitaire? There was about as much chance of that happening as there was the crew leaving without the dogs. Besides, he couldn’t expect Zach to pay him for nothing, and he couldn’t afford to not be paid.
Meg walked by leading Shane’s buckskin mare. She wore loose jeans, a wool vest, a ratty canvas jacket, and an old felt hat. The only thing she had on that wasn’t beat to crap was a deep blue silk wild rag wrapped twice around her neck and knotted in the front, to keep out the chill. If he wasn’t mistaken, it was the wild rag she’d bought when they’d attended the rodeo in Polson together the summer he’d worked at the Marvell North. A message?
He shook his head in disgust. He shouldn’t be thinking that way. She’d said they were colleagues and he was on board with that. She was a fellow worker...who’d once driven him nuts with wanting her. He was going to have to ignore the fact that she looked fine even in baggy jeans and a coat that was a size too big.
Jason turned back to Bob, untied him and led him a few steps before checking the cinch. It was no accident that he’d chosen to move in the direction of the shadows before he gritted his teeth and mounted, holding his wrist to his chest like a broken wing. He moved awkwardly, but got atop without knocking Bob over. Score one point for him. Bob cocked an ear at him when he settled in the saddle as if to say, “What the hell? Are you using me as a ladder?”
Jason patted the big gelding’s neck. Bear with me, big guy.
“Hey.” He turned to see Meg coming around the edge of the trailer. She reached out to stroke Bob’s nose before saying, “Zach wants a word.”
He gave a curt nod and she turned and walked back around the trailer. The loose pants did nothing to hide the movement of her hips. His mouth tightened as he pulled his gaze away and nudged Bob forward, following her. Zach was crossing the drive when he came out from behind the trailer and he rode over to meet him.
Zach gave him a scowling look. “How do you feel about serving on a committee?”
Perhaps the last thing Jason expected to hear. “What?”
Zach tipped back his black felt hat. “I’m in better shape to push cows and, since you’re hurting anyway, what’s a little mental pain?”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish.”
“I’ll move the cows.”
Zach let out a breath and patted Bob on the neck. “Fine. I’ll just go twist in the wind that will blow across the boardroom table.”
Moving cows was easy when the cows knew where they were going and they wanted to get there. Meg rode drag at the back of the herd, making certain that stragglers didn’t fall too far behind or stray off. Drag was the dustiest position of a drive, but the recent rains had dampened the ground and, all in all, Meg found it rather relaxing ambling along at the back of the herd as Jason and Brandon flanked one side and Shane and Cody the other. After crossing the shallow river beside the one-lane bridge, they’d be on the allotment. Jason would turn back, while the rest of the crew pushed the cows further up the mountain where they were free to scatter and eat wherever they pleased instead of hanging low and putting pressure on the fences.
Watching Jason ride, his shoulders hunched slightly against the pain, Meg wished he would turn back now. Not that he would.
When they reached the river, the older cows led the way through the shallow water and straight for the open wire gate beside the road. They knew the drill. Grass awaited on the other side of the wire.
This was where Jason was supposed to head back, but he didn’t. Instead he fell in behind the cows and continued with the herd as the crew moved them across the broad field toward the trails leading to the higher pastures.
Meg watched him out of the corner of her eye, willing him to turn back, but eventually gave up and trotted forward to catch up with Brandon on the right flank. He gave her a cocky smile and she smiled back, albeit a little cautiously. All of twenty-two years-old, dark-haired and dark-eyed, Brandon had a charming confidence about him, and Meg had a feeling that he didn’t strike out all that often with the ladies—which was going to make approaching him about the reading interesting.
“You have many cattle on the Marvell North?” he asked as her mare fell into step with his.
Meg shook her head. “Close to two hundred. Nothing like this.”
“We had a small place, too, where I came from in Oregon. Only a hundred and fifty head. Eighty acres. But we had good grazing, so it worked.”
“Yet you’re here.”
“Sometimes the ranch isn’t big enough for everyone who wants to live on it,” he said simply.
“I understand,” she said with feeling. Brandon gave her a look and she explained. “Three sisters. One ranch. And we don’t have a hard-ass like Zach to keep us in—”
The startled yell brought Meg’s head around in time to see Shane fighting to control his horse as she spun and bucked. Her mare also attempted to spin, but Meg drew up the reins, holding the dancing horse steady as Shane’s horse bucked past them. He hit the ground a few seconds later, and instead of taking a minute to collect himself, he started scrambling backward on his hands and heels like a crab, while Cody hooted with laughter. “Good ride, rodeo boy.”
“It’s a fucking snake,” Shane yelled as he got to his feet, dusting off his jeans in disgust. Meg tried not to laugh, since her cousin had enough people laughing at him, but couldn’t help smiling. Even Jason was smiling—that devastating, eye-crinkling, cheek-creasing smile that had almost made her heart stop the first time she’d seen it. Then his eyes met hers and the smile evaporated before he tore his gaze away.
There would be no shared laughter. And that was a good thing, not a loss...even though it felt like one.
“I’ll catch your horse,” Cody said to his brother.
“Yeah. You do that,” Shane muttered. He was red in the face when he glanced over at Meg. “Lilly got bit by a rattler a few years back. Hates snakes.”
“Don’t blame her,” Meg said as her own horse gave a mighty snort before she settled.
A few seconds later, Cody came trotting back with Shane’s mare. Shane took the reins, quickly checked the cinch, then mounted in one swift, smooth movement. His face was still red, but he gave his brother a grudging nod.
“Thanks.”
“Any time.” Cody turned to Jason. “You can head on back. I appreciate the extra help on the road.”
Jason nodded, then pivoted his horse on his hindquarters and headed across the field toward the river. Meg allowed herself a few seconds to watch him go, then turned her mare and followed the herd that Cody, Shane and the dogs were already moving up the trail. Brandon fell in beside her.
“He’s hurting.”
“Appears so,” Meg said.
“I’ve had cracked ribs. Hurts like a cold bitch.” Brandon moved to the left then, to head off a cow who’d decided that she and her calf would rather stay low than move up into the high country. A few seconds later, Meg did the same, heading out to the right. It appeared that the first part of the day had been the easy part.
Jason hated turning back before the job was done, but he was realistic enough to know that he’d already pushed himself too far that day. He was nowhere near ready to navigate the terrain that they’d be pushing the cattle through to spread them out up high, away from the boundary fence. Bob was steady and dependable, but he trotted like a pile driver and Jason had had enough body jarring for one day. Scrambling up slopes...he’d save that for another time.
He figured in four weeks, if he didn’t push things as much as he’d pushed them today, he’d be close enough to one hundred percent to get the colts ready in time for the sale without any sort of panic.
He winced as Bob stumbled over a rock, and his ribs lurched. Son of a bitch. Yeah—he’d pushed things. Stupid, but Zach had needed another guy and he’d thought he could do this.
Hell, he had done it. But at what price?
Zach’s parking spot was still empty when Jason returned to the ranch, and he had to admit to being glad of some privacy as he’d unsaddled Bob, then half carried, half dragged his saddle to the tack shed. He took some ibuprofen, laid his tired body down, then forced himself back up again an hour later. Zach’s truck was now parked in its usual spot, but he didn’t seek him out to find out how the dreaded meeting went. Instead he headed to the corrals and caught the big dun gelding he’d named Albert—one of the three colts he’d bought at the Sweetheart Ranch Horse Sale along with the four broodmares.
Albert was a mellow gelding who’d probably already had a saddle on him, but Jason always started new animals from square one. It was how he’d been taught at boot camp, and it was the method that worked best for him and the animals he trained. Reinforce the basics, create a solid point to return to if one had difficulties. The problem with a lot of young horses was that people moved them along too fast, skipped over some of the basics, allowed them to develop bad habits that hadn’t been addressed. By starting fresh, he could discover the bad habits before they were compounded with other bad habits. When he sold these three-year-olds, they would be solid.
He’d just finished working the colt when he heard someone give a slight cough and he turned to see Meg standing near the gate. He hated the fact that his heart gave a quick double beat, but she’d always had that effect on him. “Been there long?”
“No. Just got back a bit ago.”
And had a shower. She’d braided her damp hair, as she’d done when they’d worked together on the Marvell North, and Jason couldn’t help but flash on the memory of slowly undoing her braid after it dried, threading his fingers through the crazy-soft waves that spilled over her shoulders, down her back...
The breath he drew made his ribs hurt.
He snapped the lead rope onto Albert’s halter. The colt nosed his chest as if looking for a treat.
“Someone spoiled him.” There was a smile in her voice, but the casual comment sounded somewhat stilted, as if she was striving to treat him like any other guy on the crew.
“Imagine that,” Jason said with a touch of irony. Meg’s horses were about as spoiled as they came when it came to loving and treats. Well-behaved, but they acted more like dogs than horses around her.
Her eyebrows lifted. “Nothing wrong with babying your horses.”
“As long as they remember who’s in charge.”
It was a conversation they’d had before—on the Marvell North, when she’d been training a young gelding to replace her aging mount and Jason had stopped by to watch. Which was how it had all started. Meg training. Jason watching and throwing out the occasional word of advice. Neither of them had seen things taking the turn they had...not in the beginning anyway. But once it started, it was like a boulder rolling down a steep hill, picking up momentum until there was literally no stopping it.
“They know who’s in charge,” she said calmly. “Which brings me to what I want to talk about.”
His stomach tightened. “Yeah?”
She ambled forward a couple of steps and he felt kind of glad that the rails of the round pen were between them. “Yeah,” she said softly before clearing her throat and speaking in a more businesslike tone. “I watched you today and came to a conclusion.”
“Which is?”
She hooked her thumbs into her front pockets, considered the ground for a moment. He thought the old Meg was back, the Meg who had difficulty speaking up for herself until push came to shove, but when she raised her gaze, it was clear and steady. “You’re in no shape to get on these colts for the first few rides.”
She had a point—however, it was not one he was going to concede. The colts were his business. “I have a plan.” Her eyebrows rose in a silent invitation to let her in on said plan. What the hell? The last thing he wanted was to look defensive, as if he was hiding something. “I’ll do more groundwork until I’m ready to ride. Give them a solid base.”
“That’ll put you behind.”
“I’ll have them up to speed by October.” The ones they were going to sell. The ones Zach decided to keep for the ranch, for work or breeding, he could move more slowly with.
“And if you don’t?”
Not an option. He was about to mouth those very words, when she said, “I’ll do the first rides.”
He snorted. “I don’t think so.”
Blue eyes flashed a warning. “Don’t get all territorial about your colts. This is for the good of the ranch.”
He couldn’t legitimately argue that point, because her proposal would move the training program along, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to give arguing a shot. “Meg—”
“I’m more than capable.” She took a step closer to the rails after cutting him off, thumbs still hooked in her pockets, tilting her chin to look him in the eye. Something tightened inside of him. “The only reason you have to say ‘no’ is foolish pride.”
Like hell. The reason he needed to say no was because he didn’t want to replay that summer two years ago. Because he knew how easy it would be to slide down the wrong side of the slippery precipice he was poised on top of. But he couldn’t say that, because they were colleagues. Peers. And all those other teacherish bullshit words she’d used to describe a situation that boiled down to him pretending she had no effect on him whatsoever.
“Maybe I’m going to say no because I’ve already lined someone else up to do the first rides.”
“Have you?”
He could easily commandeer Cody or Brandon, but that would take them away from their own work, and, frankly, neither of them were trainers. They were riders. Good ones, but it took more than that to teach a young horse confidence. His mouth tightened as he silently capitulated. “It’s at the possibility stage,” he admitted.
The colt nudged his shoulder and he turned to put him back into position before asking Meg, “Are you going to talk to Zach? Play the cousin card?”
She gave her head a slow shake. “Nope.” Her lips curved ever so slightly. Even as he was being backed into a corner, he couldn’t help but remember just how soft those lips had felt beneath his. How she had felt beneath him. Soft and giving, yet somehow demanding. A crazy combination that had been both heady and terrifying as he’d felt himself start to fall for her in a serious way.
He gave himself a mental shake, wondering from her slightly narrow-eyed expression if she was following his thoughts.
“It’s your call...” she said softly.
Remembering that it’s for the good of the ranch and all that. She didn’t say the words, but he heard them.
Meg the Merciless.
Okay, so she did the first rides. She was capable. Good with horses. They would work together.
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger...but at that point he couldn’t say with a certainty that working with Meg wasn’t going to kill him a little.
“We can run it past Zach.” The last straw he could clutch at was Zach not agreeing because he had other plans for Meg’s time. And he had a bad feeling that that particular straw didn’t exist.
“Suits me.”
“Why are you doing this?” he asked as he opened the gate.
“To spend more time with you, of course.” Even though her tone was ironic, his heart thumped hard before she added in a more serious voice, “I want the experience. I like working with the foals, but I want to ride, too. This is a good opportunity for me and it’ll move the program along. Win-win.” Her lips curved into a faintly challenging smile. “Right?”
“Right.”
And, as if he needed yet another lesson, this would teach him not to draw lines in the sand.
Meg was shaking inside as she walked away. She was also shaking on the outside, but her hands were jammed deep in the pockets of her canvas jacket, so her nervous reaction to confrontation didn’t show. Bluffing, acting, emoting...she’d just done it all. Successfully. If she kept this up, she’d soon be a master of initiating a confrontation and then not giving up way too much ground in the name of peaceful resolution. And that was why she was on the ranch in the first place. She enjoyed getting to know her cousins better, had hopes of vastly improving communication and cooperation between the two ranches, but more than that, she was also there to learn to stand up for herself and not back down.
Score one for her.
Jason wouldn’t kill himself riding before he was ready, the MCC would have a full lot of colts ready for the sale, and she’d get to train, which she loved. More than that, she’d be able to deflate the image of Jason that she’d built up in her head over the past two years. He was just a guy. A hot guy she’d had a great fling with, but who, as he’d said, was all wrong for her. Because if they’d been right for each other, why would he have ridden off into the sunset?
Why would he have fed her the it’s-not-you-it’s-me bullshit?
Because he was afraid of something.
She shoved the thought out of her head. His fears were not her concern. His life was not her concern. Yeah. She was starting the colts for the good of the MCC. Period.
You’re not being fully honest with yourself.
She shoved that thought out of her head, too. She’d figure this out as she went along. The one thing she was certain of was that everyone would be better off if she did the first rides, and that was the logic she was clinging to.
She drew a long breath in through her nose and pulled her hands out of her pockets.
One confrontation down, one to go.
Meg approached Brandon’s small cabin, the last in the line of four, and knocked. There was a shuffling inside and a few seconds later Brandon opened the door.
“Hi.” There was a note of surprise in his voice.
“Hi.” Meg worked up a smile. “There’s something I need to talk to you about.”
A perplexed expression crossed his face, but he stepped back from the door, silently inviting her in.
Once the door was closed, she met his gaze, feeling a lot like a doctor about to deliver bad news. “There’s no easy way to do this, so I’m going to jump in. Zach wants me to help you with your reading skills.”
His expression instantly shuttered. “I’m doing okay.”
“Zach wants you to be able to do better than okay.”
Brandon pressed his lips together. “Not really Zach’s business. I mean, he’s my boss, not my dad. And I don’t do anything for him that involves reading.”
“Maybe he wants you to.”
Bandon scoffed. “Right. He has Cody and Shane doing any paperwork he doesn’t do.”
“I need to teach you to read without making you quit or I lose my job.” And then who’d put the first rides on those colts?
Brandon frowned at her. “You’re his cousin.”
“And he’s Zach.”
Brandon gave a thoughtful nod. “Good point.” A pained expression crossed his face, making him look years younger than he was. “I don’t want to do this.”
“I’d like to keep working here.”
“Why?”
“It’s something I need to do.”
Brandon shook his head. “I don’t really think Zach will fire you.”
“I can’t force you to do this, obviously, but Brandon...what do you have to lose?”
His dark eyebrows lifted. “Self-respect?”
“For trying to learn?”
He snorted. “For showing someone else that I can’t learn.”
“How did you get through high school?”
“I didn’t. Dropped out my sophomore year. Would have dropped out earlier, but I wasn’t old enough.”
“How’d Zach find out that you can’t read?”
Brandon fixed his eyes on a point somewhere over her shoulder, color rising in his cheeks. “He wanted me to get my CDL license so that I could drive the big trucks and he tossed me this book to study. I failed the test. He asked why, and even though I lied...he figured it out pretty damned fast.”
“I saw you driving the cattle truck. You must have passed the test.”
“Took a few times before I figured things out enough to give them the answers they wanted.” He shrugged. “I told Zach I’d pass and I did.”
“Now Zach wants you to learn to read and you will.”
Brandon frowned at the sound of the teacher voice. “And if I don’t?”
“We both lose,” she said simply.
“Zach isn’t going to fire you.”
She kept her mouth shut. Sometimes silence was a person’s best friend.
“And I got my CDL.”
She gave a small shrug.
“Damn,” he muttered. “Why are you going to be able to do this when no one else could?”
“Ever have a reading tutor?”
He shook his head. “Where I come from, we had a lot of kids and not many teachers. There wasn’t a lot of special help. A couple of ’em tried to help, but there’s only so many hours, you know?”
Meg knew. And she knew about budget cuts that overloaded classes and prevented special attention, even to kids who so desperately needed it.
“Here’s the deal, Brandon. I’m a math teacher. I took one reading methods class, but it’s not my specialty. That said, I’ve talked to some reading specialists I know and they gave me some stuff to try.”
“Well, don’t I feel like the guinea pig?”
“Look at it this way—if we fail, we fail together.”
Brandon was quiet for a couple of seconds. “I’m tired of feeling like a failure. I think it all boils down to that.”
Megan let out a breath and then continued on as if he’d said he was on board. “The first step is to take a test—” Brandon’s eyes widened in horror and she could only imagine what test day meant to a guy who had trouble reading “—to find out your strengths and weaknesses, so we can focus on what you need.”
“I think you’ll find a lot of fucking weaknesses...pardon my mouth.”
“Then we deal with them.”
He pulled in a breath that made his shoulders rise, then slowly let it out. “I can’t believe I’m going to say yes to feeling stupid again.”
“Can we start tomorrow?”
He didn’t answer, but his weary expression said, yes, they could commence torture tomorrow.
“You have Internet in here?”
“One of the many perks to working on the MCC,” he said dryly. “That and not needing a diploma.”
One step at a time. Meg kept the thought to herself. No sense overwhelming the guy. “I get done around five o’clock.”
“I get done at six p.m.”
“But you start at six a.m.” Just like she did.
“Lots to do,” he said simply. “Maybe lunch? If you’re on the ranch during lunch, that is.”
She would make sure she was, at least this first time, rather than out in the pastures with Cody. “Yeah. We’ll keep it short. Thirty minutes.”
“And if it looks hopeless, we end it. Right?”
Meg forced a smile. “Right.”
Brandon’s words stuck with Meg as she caught each of the foals that evening after dinner and gave them their daily lesson. If it looks hopeless, we’ll end it.
She’d do that—but only if he honestly had issues that kept him from reading. She didn’t want him to feel like a failure, but if he could learn to read—well, now was the time. While she was there to help.
She caught the last baby, a feisty little filly she’d named Jo, in honor of her sister. Jo did not particularly want to lead and every day she tested Meg, dancing at the end of the rope, balking and then lunging ahead. Meg patiently schooled her, and once the lesson was over, she scratched the baby all over, laughing at the way the little filly rolled her eyes, and alternately hunched and dipped her back in response. There was nothing itchier than a fuzzy-coated foal, and nothing more appreciative of a good scratching.
Mom nickered, and Jo nickered back as Meg took the little halter off the filly. The baby stood still for a split second then gave a mighty jump and bucked over to where her mother grazed next to Cody’s extremely pregnant mare.
Jason would have his hands full with that one, unless they decided to use her solely as a broodmare. But, there was that old saying about the wildest colts making the best horses.
Meg had found that to be true in many arenas of life.
