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?”
“He’s already had his say!”
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.