“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.”
“There’s someone I need to see. Hoping he’ll put me up for the night.”
CHAPTER 23
Saturday, January 28th
Montana/Wyoming State Line
Rose dismounted, then tied the horses to the fence that ran along the highway. She kicked at the snow, scraping some patches of grass bare with her boots so the horses could graze. With her hands on her hips, she stretched from side to side, swinging her arms one way, then the other, trying to work out the kinks in her back.
Fresh snow drifted from the sky but was fortunately not too heavy, nor was the air too cold, just a few degrees below freezing she guessed. The Montana welcome sign stood fifty feet away, riddled with bullet holes. She studied it and wondered how many people like her had passed it these past five months. Refugees seeking…seeking…her thoughts paused here like they always did. What was it she was seeking? What had the others who had passed through here been seeking?
She knew what Kyle had been after, and she imagined that had made the journey more bearable for him, but here she was, one week in and still unsure what it was she was expecting. It was the uncertainty that made things difficult, that and not belonging anywhere. At least Kyle had had a home to move towards, a place that, even if his family hadn’t survived, was still his.
She, on the other hand, was homeless, the smoke she’d seen rising from her little ranch as she escaped through the trees assuring her of that. She was also heading to a place she’d never been, hoping for generosity from a person she’d known for all of five days. What if he wasn’t there, or hadn’t made it, or wouldn’t help? What then?
What were the other people who passed by here doing? Seeking family? Escaping the cities? Fighting to survive through the winter? For what purpose?