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Riding along at the front of the sled, she pitched the hay from side-to-side as the pick-up bumped slowly along over frozen ground. She knew fear in the moment when her right foot stepped just a fraction of an inch too far behind her left.

As the heavy sled swallowed her right leg, pinning her underneath, her right side came down hard on the ball hitch and chain. A whimpering emerged from her throat as the sled continued to claim her upper thigh and she could feel all the tiny bits of frozen dirt and manure as her leg rode along under the sled.

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When it stopped, she could still hear that little kid sound coming from her throat, high and quiet-like. The driver hadn’t seen her go down but had noticed that she wasn’t there in the rearview anymore and the pick-up stopped.

When his body weight stepped on the sled to get across, the pain of that step directly over her knee made the sound louder. “Can you get it off me? Get it off me, please.”