by Lori Wick
Duncan’s voice was equally soft, and he watched with pain as a shudder ran over his wife’s frame. He hated to see her upset, but it was better that she know now than on the day the kid swung from a rope.
Lora had brought along a pot of coffee and joined Duncan as he ate. They talked of nothing in particular, and as soon as Duncan was finished he urged her to go home.
“What if he didn’t like the food? I could always fix him something else.”
Duncan looked at her with tender eyes, but the set of his mouth told her that no one was going to baby this prisoner. Lora realized he needed to be as stern with himself as he was with her. She left without an argument.
Sean told himself that he wouldn’t be able to eat a thing, but one taste of the eggs and bacon on the plate, and the food disappeared like magic. He was sitting back on the cot, the tray still beside him, when Duncan came back.
He unlocked the cell door and signaled Sean out with his gun. Once by the desk Duncan handcuffed one of Sean’s wrists and closed the other cuff around a ring on the wall.
“Have a seat.” The older man directed him to the chair that sat beneath the ring. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but Sean took little notice.
He watched the sheriff take a seat behind the desk and draw some papers out of a drawer.
“What’s your name?”
It was the first of many questions, including everything Sean knew about the robbery and those involved. It occurred to Sean that this man might be his ticket out of here, so he didn’t lie or try to protect his accomplices. He was quiet and somewhat respectful, but his anger at Hartley made him feel like a kettle on the verge of a boilover.
After an hour’s worth of questioning about Hartley, the cabin, and the robbery, Duncan asked where Sean was from.
“Santa Rosa.”
“North of San Francisco, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
The men stared at each other for the space of a few heartbeats.
“Where are your folks, son?”
Not even his anger could hide the pain in the younger man’s eyes as he answered. “My mother is dead and last I knew, my father,” Sean’s jaw tightened on the word, “was in Hawaii.”
Duncan didn’t reply to this right away. Sean was unaware of how swiftly the other man’s mind was moving. Angry or not, this kid knows he’s done wrong, regrets it, and knows he’s going to have to be punished. The thought startled Duncan.
“How’d you meet Hartley?”
“We met in Tulare. He sort of appeared out of nowhere and offered me a job. I was tired and broke and he bought me supper. Then we just sort of struck out together. How did you know it was Hartley?”
“His style never varies. Middle of the night, dynamite, young men as accomplices.”
“He’s robbed this bank before?” Sean was shocked.
“Three times,” the sheriff replied dryly.
What a fool he’d been to think that Hartley had been honest with him about anything. He’d certainly left him fast enough when the bullets started to fly.
“This is a reasonable time to warn you that you probably don’t have a chance.”
“What do you mean?”
“Only that the owner of the bank is tired of the robberies and believes that if they make an example of you, Hartley will never be back. You see, he waits long enough between robberies to make everyone relax. Just about the time Witt pulls his night guards off duty, or has just one, Hartley hits again.”
Sean assumed that Witt was the banker. He also figured out that he had been the man who had not wanted to wait last night. Wait for what? Sean had asked himself. Now he knew they had been speaking of his hanging. Suddenly Sean wished he hadn’t eaten any breakfast.
Duncan had been correct in assuming that Sean had resigned himself to spending some time in jail, but Sean had never considered being hanged. His calmness abruptly disappeared, and the faces of his sisters sprang into his mind. What would Kate and Marcail say? Would they ever even know?
Sean stood, his panicked heart hammering the walls of his chest before he looked down at his cuffed wrist. Duncan’s heart turned over at the look of terror that passed over his prisoner’s eyes. He then watched in fascination as the young man visibly worked at calming himself. Sean sat back down and swallowed with difficulty, but when he spoke, his voice was even.
“I have a sister in Santa Rosa. If I give you her address will you contact her after—”
“Let’s not rush things,” Duncan told him softly. “I just wanted to warn you. If and when I need to contact your family, I’ll get the address then.”
Sean nodded and realized he had an awful headache. Duncan returned him to the cell, removed the breakfast tray, and left him alone.
A dog barked outside the window, and an old woman was screeching at some kids in the street. Sean heard none of it. He fell asleep trying to pray—something he hadn’t done for well over two years.
When Sean woke it was midmorning. He immediately remembered Duncan’s words and thought of his own hanging. He realized that his head felt better, and his anger was gone, but his heart still thundered within him like that of a trapped bird. Trapped. A very fitting word for a man in a cell, and even though he wanted to blame Hartley, he couldn’t. It was time to face the fact that he had no one to blame but himself.
Suddenly Hartley’s words from the cabin as they bent over the plan of the bank came rushing back to Sean. “Nothing to it, Sean, you’ll see.” Sean’s throat emitted a hoarse, humorless laugh.
“You’ve been a fool, Sean Donovan,” he whispered. “And you’re going to pay for that foolishness with your life.”
Sean rolled over to his stomach on the narrow cot and let the tears flow. At the same time he wept, Sean once again began to pray. He surrendered his heart to God, with all its anger and bitterness, for the first time since his mother died.
nine
Two days later Sean was handcuffed and led to the courthouse. The small building was packed and stifling. Sean’s mouth had never been so dry, and he longingly eyed the pitcher of water sitting on the judge’s table.
Judge Thomas Harrison entered, going straight to his chair. Sean was surprised by his appearance, for he was very small in stature, not even up to Sean’s shoulder. The most remarkable feature about him was his full beard; it nearly obscured his face.
The next two hours would forever live in Sean’s mind. The sheriff gave a full report on all Sean had told him, including his behavior as a prisoner, his background, and the way Hartley had used naive young men in the past to rob banks with him.
Franklin Witt was not so benevolent. He proclaimed that Sean was no better than a two-bit thief, and that the country was better off without such vermin. He reminded the court that one of his guards had been hit on the head and could have been killed. After this he announced, in a voice heard by all, that Sean Donovan should die.
“Might I remind you,” Witt nearly shouted, “that this will continue to happen? And when Hartley and his gang are done with the bank, they’ll start on our homes. Are you going to set this man free to rob again?” Witt was in his element, and he was determined to convince the judge that Sean needed to hang.
Franklin Witt was a man in his forties with a full head of gray hair and a distinguished air of authority about him that captured everyone’s attention. He took great pride in his position as town banker, and even greater pride at the amount of property he owned.
When it came to his business dealings, some said there was a demon behind his smile. He was more than willing to loan money, but if a mortgage or rent payment was overdue, he was merciless. It was said that he had a special book in his pocket where he kept track of how many homes and properties he had repossessed since coming to town five years ago. The joke around town was that whenever Franklin Witt was smiling, he must have been reading in his little black book.
“All right, Witt, I’ve heard enough. Do you have anything else, Duncan?”
The judge stared Witt back down into his chair and Duncan stood.
“Only this, judge. Sean needs to pay for the crime he’s committed, but not with his life.”
Witt came out of his chair once again, but one look from the judge and he kept his mouth shut. Judge Harrison’s eyes swung from Witt to Duncan, and finally to Sean. The regret Sean saw in those eyes made his heart pound.
“The prisoner will stand.”
Sean complied.
“You’re a man, Sean Donovan,” the judge began. “No one forced you to rob that bank. As much as I grieve this course of action, this court sentences you to death.”
The noise of the court was deafening with protests and cheers alike. It really is a shame, the judge thought to himself, that this young man has to be the example. But Witt is right, it’ll continue to happen unless I step in and put a stop to it. None of the judge’s feelings showed on his face as he held Sean’s eyes with his own. He spoke when the room quieted.
“The building of the gallows will commence immediately and tomorrow afternoon, at 4:30, Sean Donovan will be hanged by the neck until dead. This court is adjourned.”
Duncan caught Sean as his legs began to buckle beneath him. “Steady, son.” The softly whispered words were just enough to keep Sean upright. Knowing that someone in this room cared for him was all he needed. The Lord had given him that much, and for that he was thankful.
“Thomas is coming for supper,” Duncan told his wife as he came in the kitchen door.
“Good. I made extra, hoping you would ask him.” Lora paused and studied her husband’s face. She didn’t need to ask what the verdict had been for his young prisoner; it was written all over his face.
The ladies from the church had been over that day, and they’d all taken time from their quilting to pray. Most had prayed for the prisoner and the judge’s decision, but Lora had remembered her husband. She had prayed for his peace of mind, as well as strength to do his job, even if the worst happened and Duncan would be called upon to hang a man.
“Are you all right?” She asked softly when Duncan sat at the table.
“Yeah. It’s going to be rough, but I’m trusting the Lord.”
Lora moved away from the stove and put her arms around him. Duncan’s eyes slid shut at the feel and smell of her. She was stability when his world felt shattered. She was logical when his emotional strength was at an end. Without a doubt, she was God’s most precious gift to him.
He told her as much, and then they took time to pray before supper. Duncan asked God to sustain Sean in the hours to come. Lora asked the same for Duncan, wishing all the while that her husband could be spared from such a task but never dreaming that it could really happen.
“You’ve done it again haven’t you, Lucas?”
The sheriff didn’t answer the judge. He took the bowl of potatoes Lora was passing him and served himself. The judge was right—he had done it again. He had grown overly compassionate in his job. It had never made him err in judgment, but it made the inevitable, such as Sean’s hanging, feel like a knife in his side.
“I’m staying for the hanging.”
Duncan looked at him in surprise. The implication was clear, and he resented it.
“I can handle it.”
“I know you can, but I’ve decided to stay and spare you.”
Duncan felt badly for his presumption. Praising God that Duncan would not have to pull that handle, Lora swallowed hard against a sudden rush of tears.
“Thanks, Tom.” Duncan said the words aloud; Lora said them in her heart.
Nothing more was said on the subject, and when the meal was finished the men left. Duncan told Lora that he would be home around midmorning. Judge Harrison walked with Duncan as far as the hotel where the men bid each other goodnight.
Duncan’s deputy had been expecting him, and other than Sean’s not eating his supper, he had nothing to report. Duncan knew how easy it would be to try to coax Sean into eating, but given the same circumstances, he knew he himself would not want to be patronized.
He picked up an extra chair and carried it down to the front of Sean’s cell. After turning it around, he sat astride it and looked at his prisoner where he sat on the cot.
“I’m sorry about today, Sean. I prayed it would be different.” These words and the actions of the past two days told Sean that the man across from him was a fellow believer in Christ.
“I did too, but I know that since it wasn’t, that’s the way it’s supposed to be.”
All of Duncan’s suspicions were confirmed. “How did you get this far from God, Sean?”
“It didn’t happen overnight,” Sean admitted quietly. “I fought Him every step of the way; in fact I fought Him so much that I was certain He had given up on me. I found out today that He hadn’t given up at all.” Considering that Sean had been sentenced to hang, most people wouldn’t have been able to make any sense of his statement, but Duncan understood.
“Want to tell me about it?” Duncan asked quietly.
“It’s a long story.”
“I’ve got all night.”
Sean stared at the older man for just a moment, and then began to speak in a reminiscent voice, not about all he’d been thinking on that day, but further back, back to his childhood in Hawaii.
“I was born in Hawaii where my parents were missionaries. I went to school there and of course church, and I really believed I’d live there forever. It was my world.
“Then on my sister’s twentieth birthday, when I was 14, my father announced that we would be sailing to California for a rest and family vacation. I’d never known such a mixture of fear and happiness. I’d also never really known the definition of the word seasick.
“I prayed for death on that trip. My stomach heaved until it was empty and then heaved some more.” Sean’s whole body shuddered with the memory. “I was certain I would be dead by the time we arrived in San Francisco. That’s where my aunt lives. We moved in with her, and then my parents revealed the real reason we’d left Hawaii. My mother was ill. She was diagnosed with tuberculosis. It was only a matter of weeks and she was gone.
“Father felt burdened to return to the islands and gather our things.” A slight tone of anger entered Sean’s voice. “We were to stay with Aunt Maureen, and we did, but then my cousin Percy came home.”
Questions came to Duncan’s mind as Sean talked, but now that Sean had begun, he stayed silent and sensitive to the young man’s need to tell his story.
“I swear I could have killed him when I walked in and saw him with his arms around my sister. Kaitlin had tried to warn me, but I thought she was overreacting.” Sean took a deep breath as he remembered the pain he felt over Percy’s actions and his father’s absence. But then Rigg’s face came to mind.
“She has a good husband now. He loves her and their little girls. Oh,” Sean realized he hadn’t explained. “It was after we moved to Santa Rosa that she met Rigg. When Kate felt that we couldn’t stay in San Francisco any longer because of Percy’s advances, we took the stage north and she got a job teaching school.
“Moving without being able to talk it over with Father was the hardest thing we’d ever done. We were all right though, and I believed my father would come any time, but he didn’t. Weeks went by before we heard from him, and then his letter said he was needed in the islands and wanted to stay.
“It was worse in some ways than when Mother died, because we waited in anticipation of each letter, only to be disappointed. My heart grew more bitter with each passing month. When he’d been gone for two Christmases in a row, I felt so full of pent-up anger I thought I would explode.
“I finally left Santa Rosa the summer I was 17. It wasn’t long before I started telling myself I would never go back. I’d also been telling myself for two years that if my father could desert me then my God probably could as well. So I stopped trying to pray, certain there was no one listening.
; “And then today, when you cared enough to hold me on my feet, I knew I’d been wrong. He’d been there all along, waiting to help me with the pain of loss and separation. It’s easy to say this now that I know how close my death is,” Sean hesitated and tears filled his dark eyes, “but I would serve God with my whole heart if I had another chance.”
Duncan wanted to say something but couldn’t swallow around the lump in his throat.
“Thanks for coming back and talking to me. It makes things a little easier. Will you take that address now?”
Duncan nodded and went for some paper. When he returned, Sean’s voice shook as he gave Kaitlin’s full name and address.
“Try to get some sleep, Sean.”
“I will, and please tell my sisters that I love them and that I love Father too.”
Duncan’s throat closed again, and he waited until the younger man lay down before taking the piece of paper to his desk. He sat unseeing for a long time, the paper clutched in his fingers.
When he did open a bottom drawer in the desk to file the paper, he hesitated. It was a mess inside. His file system left much to be desired.
He put the address in his breast pocket for safekeeping and reached again to shut the drawer. Something stopped him, however, something he hadn’t thought about in years.
Like a man in a dream he reached into the drawer time and again until the contents were emptied onto his desk. The document was hazy in his mind, but he was sure it must be there. Duncan looked at the mass of papers on the desktop and wondered where to start.
His hesitation lasted only a moment before he remembered that 4:30 the next afternoon was less than 17 hours away. With that thought in mind, he began to read.
ten
Where did you find this?”
“I’ve been searching my papers all night. Is it any good?”
Judge Harrison didn’t answer, but continued to study the document in his hand. Finally he said, “I’d forgotten all about this law.”
