With his free hand, the wrangler grabbed the front of my dirty, now-loose riding habit and ripped it down to my waist as the buttons flew off. I cried and he laughed. I still remember that laugh, which was accompanied by his dirty fingers fondling my breasts. I heard someone laugh like that at an auction once. My husband had to take me home because I was physically sick.

When he couldn’t rip through the waistband of my skirt, he bunched it up around my chest. As the knife bit deeper in my neck, he tore my raggedy drawers away. He stared down at my nudity and salivated. That may have been the worst moment of all. As blood dripped down my neck from that knife point, I knew I had to stop struggling to stay alive. As for why I wanted to stay alive… well, the urge remained strong. I have never been one to fold, although I was close to it, there on my back with that disgusting man forcing my legs wider apart.

He fumbled with his trouser buttons and let go of my throat for an instant. I stared right at him and let go with the loudest scream I ever thought I could produce. Everetts didn’t scream, but I screamed so loud that even the meadowlarks stopped their bubbling notes.

He punched me hard in the eye and slapped that great big hand back on my throat again, even though it was slippery with my blood. He pushed down harder, forcing me to turn my attention to breathing and not what was going on between my legs. Maybe that was a blessing.

Rape is difficult to describe, so I will spare you. He was going to what he wanted and there wasn’t anything I could do to stop him. Rape is rage, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.

As the wretched man readied himself, I bore it as best I could, trying to think of something else, anything else. Lying on my back, I even started imaging I heard a horse galloping. I closed my eyes, fearing another eager wrangler, and another. I cannot describe my panic at that thought.

He had barely begun his assault on me, when I heard someone running and then yanking the wrangler away. The awful hand left my throat and I gulped air, even as I grabbed my skirt with shaking hands and fumbled to cover my nakedness. I couldn’t do anything about my bodice but that was a minor concern barely worth consideration.

I struggled to sit up as Hawk snatched the wrangler to his feet, took the man’s own knife and dragged it down, gutting him from throat to pelvis, as the wrangler stared down at his spurting insides. This was the work of mere seconds. Hawk slammed him facedown to the ground and let him writhe.