by Ray Gorham
Boyd put his hand on Kyle’s shoulder and almost shouted to be heard. “I’m really sorry, Kyle. I thought we made our case.”
Kyle stared at the ground, shaking his head vigorously from side to side.
The foreman waited for the room to calm down. Gabe banged on the front table with a hammer until it was almost silent and the foreman could continue. “On the charge of rape, we find the defendant guilty.” Another roar went through the crowd, though not as long or as loud. The juror handed the paper back to Don and sat down.
All eyes were now locked on the two men at the front of the room. Don and Gabe whispered back and forth briefly, Gabe shaking his head as he spoke. Finally Don stood, and the room went silent. “Mr. Tait,” he began, his voice shaking. “This jury has found you guilty of rape and murder. This was a vicious and terrible crime, and because of the horrific nature of it, you are sentenced to death.” A smattering of applause could be heard as the room again descended into chaos. Several minutes and several pounds of the hammer later, the room got quiet again and Don continued. “The sentence will be carried out before sunset. We ask that young children not be exposed to this event.” He took a deep breath and put his hand on the table to steady himself.
Kyle heard his family crying, despite the surrounding commotion, and Carol Jeffries trying to console Spencer and Emma. Kyle’s head was spinning; he leaned against the table to steady himself. His guards stepped closer, nervously scanning the crowd. Gabe once again used the hammer to return order to the court. “Mr. Tait, do you have anything to say?”
Kyle took a deep breath as he sat up and nodded. Don motioned for Kyle to speak. He stood and turned to the crowd, which quickly went silent. Every eye in the room was glued to him as tears ran freely down his cheeks. “I just want to say,” he looked at the Smith family, “that I’m sorry.” An explosion of voices forced Gabe, once again, to use his hammer to settle the crowd. “Not,” Kyle shouted, the noise decreasing. “Not because I hurt your daughter. I didn’t. But I am sorry for your loss. I have children who I love very much, and I can only guess at the hurt and the loss that you’re feeling. I hope those wounds will heal.”
He looked at his wife and smiled. “I want you all to know how much I love my wife. And whatever you think about me, or this verdict, please don’t hold this against her. She’s an amazing woman who made me a better man than I ever would have been without her, but she’ll need your help.” He swallowed, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. “I don’t know who did this, but my death will not make you any safer. I do hope that at some point the guilty person will be found and that you will all be able sleep safer at night.” He thanked Don and Gabe and sat down, nearly collapsing into his chair.
Don dismissed the crowd, and chairs clattered on the floor as people hurried to the exit. Kyle felt arms around his neck and Jennifer’s lips on his cheek. “I can’t believe this, Kyle,” she choked out. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Kyle focused on his children. David was wiping his eyes on his sleeve, Spencer had his face buried in Carol’s lap, and Emma, looking terrified, clung tightly to her mother’s arm. Kyle broke down and sobbed uncontrollably, his emotions too much to control, his shoulders heaving as the magnitude of his sentence hit him. “I love you all so much,” he wailed, his arms still secured behind his back, making it impossible to hug his children.
His guards stood a few steps back, watching the scene unfold, waiting to take him away, while the family huddled and wept together, broken hearted, and in unbearable pain. The room had mostly emptied, leaving just Kyle and his family, Carol, the four guards, and some curious onlookers. With no more words to say, Kyle and his family just sat, holding each other, being together for their final few minutes.
One of the guards finally spoke up. “I’m really, really sorry, Mr. Tait, but we need to go. We have to take you now.”
Kyle looked up at the guard. “I understand,” he said. He tried to stand, but his legs gave out, and he fell to the floor. Two of the guards grabbed his shoulders and helped him to his feet, supporting him on each side.
“We can escape, Dad!” David whispered urgently. “I’ll get my gun; we can get away.”
“No, David,” Kyle said shaking his head. “Don’t do that. No one else needs to get hurt. It’s better to die innocent than kill to be free. Please, son.” He waited until David looked him in the eyes. “You’ve got to be there for your mother. You understand? She needs you more than ever.”
Tears streamed down David’s defiant face, but he nodded his understanding. The guards began walking him towards the door, and Spencer started screaming hysterically. Carol held him in her arms to keep him from running after his father. Emma lay in a heap on the floor, her head cradled in Jennifer’s lap, her eyes swollen and red. “David,” Jennifer said, her voice faltering. “Hold your sister. I have to go with your father.”
“No, Jennifer!” Kyle called out. “I don’t want you to see this. I don’t want you to have that memory.”
Jennifer stumbled down the aisle between the rows of empty chairs, drying her eyes to be able to see. “I’ll close my eyes or look away when the time comes, but I have to be there. I won’t be able to forgive myself if I’m not there for you.”
She numbly followed the group through town, back to the militia building where a short meeting was held, then to a small plateau part way up the mountain that had been scouted out and designated for this purpose, initially for the execution of the man from the raid. It was a private area shielded by trees and only a short distance from the community.
Jennifer was shocked by the number of people who had followed along, intent on seeing the process through to the end. Leah’s father was there, as well as Gabe Vance, Don Anderson, Ty Lewis, and three-dozen onlookers, only a few of whom she knew. She wanted to rant and scream at them and demand that they give her privacy, but it took all the strength she had just to stand there.
Two men zip-tied Kyle’s ankles together, then looped straps through each elbow and to trees on both sides of him, so he couldn’t attempt to flee. Kyle stared at Jennifer, tears running steadily down his cheeks. Once Kyle was adequately secured, a guard stepped forward, his hands visibly shaking, and slid a thick pillowcase over Kyle’s head.
Kyle called out to his wife. “Jenn, I love you, and the kids! Always remember that!”
“I love you too, Kyle!” Jennifer answered back. She felt her legs go weak, and she started to sink to the snowy ground. Ty Lewis, fighting tears of his own, caught her as she fell and supported her.
“I’m sorry, Jennifer,” Ty said. “He’s a good man. This isn’t right.”
Sean Reider slowly walked to a position in front of Kyle, stopping fifteen yards away. He took a wide stance and inhaled deeply. His hands shook, and all color had drained from his face. Despite the cold temperature, a bead of sweat ran down his forehead.
Kyle’s guards moved to a position between Jennifer and Kyle. Kyle stood straight and tall, his head erect, dignified, and strong.
“Why is Sean doing this?” Jennifer asked, her voice a whisper. “
Ty leaned close to her ear. “He has no choice. No one else would, not even the men from Clinton. Sean doesn’t want to do it either, but Gabe and Don insisted that someone had to carry out the sentence. They argued about it for a long time while the jury was out.” He shook his head. “I don’t envy Sean at all. This whole thing is screwed up.”
Sean raised his rifle, lowered his eye to the scope, hit the safety and slid a shaking finger onto the trigger. The only sound Jennifer could hear was her heartbeat. The spectators, the wind, the river were all silent, waiting for the crack of the rifle, the sound that would signify the extinguishing of a life.
Frozen, unable to breath, and with everything around her paused, Jennifer watched Sean’s hands, waiting for his one finger to move. She glanced at Ty. His eyes were closed, and he had turned away, tears staining his cheeks. Gabe knelt in prayer to the side of the group
, his head bowed, shoulders heaving.
“I can’t do this!”
Jennifer’s eyes flashed back to Sean. His gun was lowered, and he faced the group, shaking his head.
“This isn’t part of my job. You can shoot me, run me out of town, replace me, whatever you need to do, but I will not execute this man.”
Jennifer shrieked. Ty’s grip on her loosened, and she dashed past the startled guards towards Kyle. A roar of voices erupted behind her, and from the corner of her eye, she saw someone break from the crowd. She threw herself against Kyle, slamming into him, nearly forcing the air from his lungs. “Kyle!” she screamed as she pulled the pillowcase off his head and kissed his cheek.
A gunshot rang out. The bullet exploded at head level in the tree to her left, pelting Kyle and Jennifer with chunks of wood.
“Get off him right now! I’ll kill the son-of-a-bitch myself if no one else will.”
Jennifer turned her head to see the barrel of Mitch Smith’s gun aimed at her. His eyes were blazing, and his mouth quivered, but his hand was steady, with his finger glued to the trigger of the gun.
“I should have known you people wouldn’t serve justice.”
“I’m not moving,” Jennifer cried, turning to face him. “You want to shoot him, you put the bullet through me.”
“Jennifer, get away!” Kyle urged, desperation in his voice. “He’ll do it.”
“Move!” Mitch bellowed. He shifted the gun slightly and shot again, the bullet slamming into the tree on the opposite side of her. “Next one’s going through both of you. I’m not telling you again.”
“Move Jennifer! Now!” Kyle insisted. “Don’t do this.”
“Mitch, put the gun down,” Don Anderson pled. “This isn’t the way.”
“Then what is? I patiently sat through the trial and heard the verdict. You tell me what the right way is.”
“I’m not moving!” Jennifer cried. “He’s innocent. Please understand that.”
“That’s not what the jury said!” Mitch spat back. “They said he should die.”
“They were wrong! He would never do what he was accused of.”
“Mr. Smith,” Sean said, turning his weapon towards Mitch. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to shoot anyone. Let’s just put the guns down and see what we can work out.”
“What about Leah? What about justice for my daughter?”
“I’m not moving away, sir.” Jennifer eyed the man. “I know you don’t want to kill anyone. Please.”
“You don’t know what I want! I want him to pay! I want my daughter back! Don’t try telling me what I want!” He re-aimed his gun at Kyle, right through the middle of Jennifer’s chest. “I’ll count to three, and then you’re both dead. It’s your choice.”
Kyle’s arms were still secured to the trees and his feet bound, so he pushed frantically at Jennifer with his head. “Move!” he screamed.
“One!” Mitch yelled. He stood five yards from Sean, a few feet from the group he’d come with, and directly in line with Kyle. Several people had drawn their guns, but they didn’t know where to point them. At Mitch? At Kyle? At Security?
Don Anderson pleaded, “Mitch, don’t do this!”
“You don’t have the authority to shoot him,” Sean threatened as he raised his rifle to his shoulder.
“Two!” Mitch continued, oblivious to the urgings of those around him.
“I’m not moving!” Jennifer said, taking a step forward. “You’ll have to kill us both.”
“Jennifer, don’t!” Kyle screamed, frantic and desperate.
“Mitch!” Don urged.
“Three!” Mitch yelled just as Ty Lewis tackled him, hitting him at shoulder level and knocking the rifle upwards as the trigger was pulled. The bullet sailed over Jennifer’s head, snapping nearby branches and bouncing off the mountainside behind them. The rifle fell to the ground as both men rolled to a stop. Mitch lashed out with a fist, catching Ty in the face and knocking him backward, then reached for his gun but was wrestled down by Sean and one of the men who had secured Kyle to the trees.
Jennifer turned back to Kyle, smiled wearily and fell into him, out of breath.
“I told you to move,” Kyle said between sobs. “You were almost killed.”
“I can’t lose you, Kyle. I just can’t do it.”
CHAPTER 22
Friday, January 27th
Deer Creek, MT
Kyle wearily eyed the stack of clothes on the floor. “This seems all too familiar, except the last time I did this was in Texas.”
Jennifer pulled clothes from the clothesline that was strung across the basement. “This is a first for me, and I don’t like it at all, but at least I know you’re alive. That’s a million times better than last time.”
“My head’s still spinning from yesterday. I still don’t believe what you did.”
“I don’t want to think about it, but you keep bringing it up. Let’s just forget about it right now.”
They heard the front door slam, followed by footsteps pounding down the stairs. “Dad!” David exclaimed when he got to the bottom. “Mr. Shipley agreed.”
“What did he want for it?” Kyle asked, incredulous.
David shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. I got the horse, like you had hoped.”
“That’s fantastic, David, but what did it cost?”
“I just have to stay later, and work Saturdays, but I got a saddle, too. I offered to throw in Emma, but they said then I’d have to work Sundays as well, so I decided we’d just keep her.”
“Shut up, David,” Emma said. “You did not tell them that. You’re a liar.”
“Kids, your father’s leaving. Let’s not do this. Let’s give him something good to remember.”
“When do you have to be gone by, Dad?” David asked, turning serious.
Kyle’s head whirled with everything that had happened in the last sixteen hours. The verdict, the chaos as he waited, being helplessly strung between the trees, then seconds from execution, all sent a shudder through his body. Once Mitch Smith had been disarmed and pacified, the execution group had moved back to the militia house, where both of the attorneys, the jury, and others were waiting.
All involved were in a quandary regarding what to do, seeing as they had a convict but no legal operative willing to kill him. Even Mitch had eventually calmed down and apologized for almost shooting Jennifer. Finally, Helen had spoken up and admitted that there was enough doubt in her mind to spare Kyle the death sentence, but not enough to just set him free.
A decision had finally been made when Kyle proposed a solution. “Let me leave. My parents live in Idaho. I’ll go there now and send for my family in the spring. We’ll be gone, and I won’t be a threat to anyone. Just give me a day to pack up and leave.”
Even Mitch, once Helen Markham had spent a few minutes with him and shared her reservations about the verdict, had reluctantly agreed to the new plan. Only one member of the jury, a man from Clinton, had expressed serious reservations. The four other jurors had readily agreed to the modified plan, having all felt a jolt that had surprised them upon hearing the gunshots thought to have been the execution, and had expressed remorse over the outcome. Seeing Kyle brought down from the mountain alive had lifted a burden for them.
Jennifer had taken the banishment well, even though the thought of Kyle being gone again upset and angered her. But compared to the alternative, the punishment was heaven sent.
In addition to clothes and weapons, the Taits gathered together and packed twenty pounds of food, mostly in the form of dried meat, a few first aid supplies, a butane cylinder and lighter, half a jar of petroleum jelly, a small spool of wire, David’s two-man tent, some of Frank’s powdered bleach, a sleeping bag, silver coins Gabe had brought over, and a knife. Kyle briefly wished he had his cart, but the procurement of a horse had improved the situation significantly.
When the gear was finally packed and loaded, some on the horse and the remainder in a backpack Kyle wore, the
family had another tearful separation, though far less painful than the one from the day before.
“Good luck, Kyle. I love you! Be safe,” Jennifer called out as he swung the horse away from the house. She watched and waved, along with their kids, Carol, and Grace, as Kyle rode away.
Too cried out from the past few days to shed any tears, Kyle smiled at his family and friends and waved back, blowing kisses and putting on a brave face until he was out of sight. One more separation, one more journey into the unknown. He shook his head to clear it, not knowing how much more of this primitive and unpredictable life he could take. The memories of normalcy haunted him. It all seemed so long ago, but it wasn’t. It was so easy back then, and so easily lost.
Kyle was heading south through the Shipley Ranch when he heard his name called. Sean Reider was waving his arms and running towards him. Kyle stopped his horse and waited.
Sean was out of breath when he reached Kyle. “Kyle… thanks for waiting,” he panted. “I want to say I’m sorry, for yesterday, for everything that happened.”
“You’re sorry for not shooting me?”
“No,” Sean said, catching his breath. “I didn’t think you were guilty, at least I have my doubts, but I shouldn’t have even been willing to raise my gun at you. Guess I would have made a good Nazi.”
“Nazi?” Kyle said, puzzled. “What’s that have to do with us.”
“So many of the Germans put their consciences on hold and just went along with what their leaders told them to do, no matter how repugnant. I really scared myself yesterday. I almost took your life trying to be good at my job, even when I knew it wasn’t right.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. I don’t know if I’d have done anything different in your position. We’re all in a bad way right now, scared, doing things we don’t know how to do, making it up as we go, not knowing when things will be fixed. It’s a little overwhelming, isn’t it?”
Sean nodded. “It is.” He looked south towards the mountain and at the steep road winding up its side. “Well, I don’t want to hold you up. It’ll be dark soon. Why are you headed this way? I heard you were going east, to Idaho.”