By Shannon Lukens.
Holt Lemaster was sentenced in a packed courtroom in Routt County District Court Friday morning. The 18-year-old pled guilty to 1st Degree Assault for a knife attack on a local pre-school teacher, Kylie Leggett, in April of 2024, when she was house-sitting for a family during Spring Break. Lemaster was 16 at the time.
Lemaster was sentenced to six years at the Youthful Offender System in Pueblo (YOS), which is the only facility of its kind in Colorado. It’s for juveniles convicted of certain offenses. He had to be screened with a pre-sentence investigation order and accepted by the warden to determine the incarcerated individual’s initial custody level and facility assignment.
Judge Billy-George Hertzke denied the request for time served, which was at a juvenile facility in Grand Junction before Lemaster turned 18, and then the Routt County Detention Center. However, it will take about a month for Lemaster to have a room at the YOS in Pueblo, so that time served will be taken off his time at YOS.
Judge Hertzke says the suspended DOC sentence will be imposed if Lemaster does something unacceptable during his time at the facility in Pueblo. He would then automatically be sentenced to 16 years in the Colorado Department of Corrections.
The victim, 30-year-old Kylie Leggett, spoke to Steamboat Radio News.
Today, I get to finally receive closure. It’s been almost two years of me fighting for my life, figuring out how I’m gonna survive, and figuring out how to have a normal life again. Today is the day that I feel like the weight gets to be lifted off my shoulder, and that I will receive closure when I get to close one chapter of this terrible journey. I am very lucky for the police department, the district attorneys, and all the medical staff that have worked on me.
They all mean so much to me, and I believe they are part of the reason why I am still alive. I can’t thank Officer Lane and Detective Silva enough for being the first officers on scene, and remaining so calm when I was bleeding out. And then I’ll never forget the first conversation I had with the district attorneys, and how they told me that they will get justice for me. Today’s that day. We’re finally gonna get justice.
Also, this justice is not just for me, it’s for the community. The defendant has wreaked havoc on the whole community. He has disrupted the peace that Steamboat used to have. I’m hoping now, with this sentence, our town will now be at peace, and we’ll learn how we can rebuild and get back stronger. Thank you.
Leggett also read her Victim Statement in court.
Your Honor, my name is Kylie Leggett, and I am the victim in this case.
Finding the words to express what I’ve been through has not been easy. April 23, 2024, changed everything I once knew about my life. In an instant, the life I had for the past 30 years was taken from me. I say it all the time, but I still can’t believe the reality I now live in.
I am a preschool teacher. Teaching young children isn’t just my job—it is my calling. I pour my heart into it every single day. I’ve always had a gift for connecting with kids, a way of making them feel safe, seen, heard, and loved. The classroom is more than four walls; it is my joy, my future, and the way I give back to the world. I love my life.
Monday, April 22, 2024, was the last day I was normal, and I remember that day perfectly. I was house-sitting for a family in town while they went on vacation. I took their dog, Maggie, on a two-mile hike. While I was sitting on their couch, eating a steak quesadilla from Qdoba for dinner and preparing my lesson plan for the next day. I was enjoying their beautiful view and the sunset of Steamboat Resort from their couch. I remember thinking to myself how lucky I am to live in Steamboat. I moved to Steamboat to explore the outdoors, go skiing, ride my bike, and enjoy the outdoors with my friends and dog.
Then it was 2:30 a.m. on Tuesday, April 23, 2024. Maggie woke me up barking. I assumed she heard a bear or a fox in the backyard. I kept asking her to stop, but she got louder and more aggressive. I knew in that moment I needed to get up.
I remember walking out of the bedroom and seeing the defendant walking along the back porch holding their phone up as a flashlight, wearing a black ski mask, a black North Face jacket, a red shirt with a white shirt underneath, and baggy blue jeans. I remember telling myself, “I can just scare them off. There’s no way they have a weapon — we live in Steamboat.”
Then the defendant started jiggling the sliding door handle. I stepped up to the door, opened it, and started pushing the defendant and screaming for help. I turned around, walked back into the house, locked the door, looked down, and saw that my favorite leopard print pajama pants were covered in blood. I lifted my sweatshirt and saw my skin cut open and blood squirting out.
I called 911 at 3:20 a.m. The first officer on scene, Officer Lane, was attending to me while I was lying in a pool of blood. Then Detective Silva arrived and was surprised to see how much blood was coming out of me, and reached for towels. At that same time, the paramedics arrived then whisked me away to Yampa Valley Hospital. I vaguely remember giving my phone to the ER nurses and asking them to call my family. I shook Dr. Hartman’s hand, and then I don’t remember anything until I woke up intubated in the intensive care unit days later in Loveland, Colorado. I’ll never forget waking up and staring at the ceiling, trying to understand where I was. When I opened my eyes, nothing made sense. I could hear people talking, and then it hit me — I was seriously injured. I wasn’t just getting a few stitches and going back to work like I told myself. It was worse. Much worse. The moment you realize your life has changed forever… that feeling stays with you. It haunts you.
When the defendant stabbed me two times, he caused a grade 5 pancreatic injury, a grade 4 liver laceration, a blood infection, an inferior vena cava injury with thrombus, pancreatic duct leaks, and a month-long stay in the hospital. I lost organs, a functioning GI system, and so much of my life.
A grade 5 pancreatic injury is a massive disruption to the pancreatic head. The defendant severed my pancreas head and most of my pancreas neck. I have a tiny part of my pancreas neck and the tail left. A grade 4 liver laceration is a rupture of the liver tissue that extends into 25–75% of a hepatic lobe or segments cut in a single lobe. The defendant lacerated my liver. The vena cava is a large vein that carries blood from the lower body to the heart. The knife poked my vena cava and caused a major blood clot for six months.
I had five drains collecting all the extra fluid in my stomach from being stabbed, and so many tubes coming out of my face and body, cords wrapped around me, monitoring everything. It was easier to just lie still and not move. I had to relearn basic things — walking, standing, sitting up, and reaching above my head. I was so weak. My body couldn’t do it. My mind was so tired trying to decide whether to focus on healing my body or my brain. I have never felt so mentally and physically exhausted as I did in those first five months of recovery.
As I started to get stronger in the hospital, the reality of what had happened began to hit me. I was alive, but my body wasn’t the same anymore. Every scan, every update from the doctors brought more bad news — more long-term consequences I would have to live with.
I was eventually diagnosed with chronic pancreatitis, celiac disease, PTSD with anxiety, and severe physical deconditioning. And it isn’t over — more tests, procedures, and evaluations are still ahead of me. Physical deconditioning means your body loses its strength and fitness after a long period of inactivity. In my case, that meant a full month in the hospital, barely able to move. When I was finally discharged, I walked with a cane for two months. The muscles in my abdomen were essentially gone — I had no stability, no core strength, nothing to hold me upright the way a body is supposed to. And to this day, I’m still living with the consequences. I still feel the weakness, the limitations, and the reminder that my body is not the same body.
I started to realize my GI system does not work the same anymore. Everything I eat or drink bloats me to the point I am nauseous or constipated. I am on three different medications to help me have a bowel movement. I am in pain all the time. I can watch my intestines move like a wave when trying to digest or process something I put in my body. Nothing in my abdominal region feels good. One day, I will have to decide between a pancreas transplant or living without a pancreas. I cannot live with the pancreas I have; it will fail one day, and I will become diabetic. As a result of my injuries, I will not have the chance to bear my own children.
I remember when it was finally time for me to move out of the ICU. I requested a room with a view — I wanted to see the mountains. It gave me hope that I would be going home soon, even though deep down, I was terrified to leave. I was scared to be away from my primary medical team. I felt safe in the hospital — everyone there knew exactly what was going on with my body and what to do. Once I was home, all that care and responsibility fell on my family and I.
When I was discharged on May 23, 2024, I went home with two drains and three open wounds along my incision. I had daily blood draws, weekly meetings with wound care and my primary care physician in Steamboat, constant texts and video appointments with my medical team in Loveland, CT scans to schedule, appointments with my dietitian, and an endless list of things to manage — medicines, insurance, and recovery. I was just trying to figure out how I was going to live.
One of the biggest challenges on this entire journey has been learning to love myself again and adjusting to my future. So much has been taken from me. When so much of your world and identity changes, it’s natural to feel disoriented, even alienated from the person you used to be. It’s hard to look in the mirror and not feel damaged, or hearing voices of judgement around me. My future now includes living near a Level 1 trauma center, relying on lifelong medications, adjusting to a much lower activity level, and preparing for the likelihood of more major surgeries — a reality that requires strength, adaptability, and grace. I can take a turn on any day.
I have a scar that runs from the top of my stomach to the bottom. My belly button isn’t where it used to be. I have a permanent black dot where my belly button used to be pierced. I have fifteen staple scars, five drain scars — two of which are still filling in — and the stab wound scar. Every day, I have to look at them. They’re a constant reminder that I’m alive, despite everything else I’ve lost.
I’ve had to change my entire diet. I can only tolerate a handful of foods. Right now, my diet is limited to fresh fruits and vegetables. Because I lack a properly functioning pancreas, it does not digest food normally like your stomach. I now must take two pancreatic enzymes before I eat or else I am in so much pain. In September of 2024, I had a reconstruction surgery on my stomach to connect the remaining part of my pancreas to my small intestine to act as a bile duct since I lost them due to being stabbed.
As a result of multiple surgeries, I now have diastasis recti which is the separation of abs. I was cut open like a book so many times that each surgery used the same incision to go into my stomach and fix what the knife did to me. I can’t wear high or mid-rise pants anymore. I can’t wear tight shirts. I can’t wear bikinis or crop tops anymore. It feels like my stomach is being suffocated. Diastasis recti is most commonly associated with pregnant women.
My diastasis recti is the first reminder that I won’t have children of my own. The second reminder is everything in my life that should have felt ordinary is now different. I dreamed of being a mom. I believe that childhood should be filled with love and magic. I was so excited to do that for my own children. And now it will never happen the way I dreamed.
I’ve had to replace all my personal care products because my body can’t tolerate so many ingredients anymore. I’ve even rearranged my whole apartment just to make daily life possible — I can’t tiptoe to reach anything anymore, and I have to be mindful about bending down. My stomach does not like to be crunched.
I’ve had to rebuild my life piece by piece, learning how to survive in a body that doesn’t work the same way anymore. Every day is a mix of gratitude and grief — grateful that I’m alive, grieving the life I had before. I’m still trying to find myself again, to find peace with what happened to me and what was taken from me.
At the time of my stabbing, the defendant was on probation for a violent juvenile case. In that case, the district attorney’s office recommended a sentence to the Department of Youth Services. But the court chose to give the defendant probation again in an act of leniency. Because of the court’s leniency, the defendant remained out of custody and had the opportunity to commit these crimes against me.
Since the defendant is deemed acceptable for sentencing to YOS by the YOS Warden, I would ask the court to sentence the defendant to 6 years in YOS and a suspended sentence of 18-20 years in DOC.
I live every day with the consequences of the defendant’s actions and the system’s previous choice to be lenient. I am the one who will carry the scars, the pain, and the trauma for the rest of my life.
Written by: Kylie Leggett, October 20, 2025
The person who owned the home (who will not be named) where Leggett was dogsitting was the first to give a Victim Impact Statement. He and his family were out of town for Spring Break. He said they did not know Lemaster, but that Lemaster had been snapshatting one of the family members, and then Lemaster went over to the house in the middle of the night, “wearing a ski mask and armed with a hunting knife.”
He added, “The extremity and the violence of this crime cannot be overstated.” He said he is praying for Kylie Leggett and that his family are also victims as their “sense of security in this community has been shattered. Not a day goes by where we don’t think about what happened.”
The recording of the 911 call was the first piece of evidence presented by the District Attorney. The address of where the stabbing happened has been redacted. (Recorded with a cell phone in the courtroom, with permission of the court.)
Next was a video of the bodycam footage from Steamboat Springs Police Officer Lane who was first on the scene. The next two pieces of evidence were pictures of Leggett’s scars from her surgeries.
Leggett’s family and many friends were in the courtroom Friday, along with many first responders who were involved with the case. Leggett has set up a GoFundMe page.
Holt Lemaster also read a statement in court.
My name is Holt Lemaster. I would like to thank the courts for giving me this opportunity to apologize and take accountability. The choices I made on April 23rd, 2024, altered Miss Leggett’s life and for that I’m profoundly sorry. I apologize for all the ways you were impacted by me. Even though there’s no way to fix what I’ve done, I’m committed to rehabilitation and avoiding anything like this in the future.
I can’t possibly name everyone who was negatively affected by my actions, but it includes your family, your students, your community, and the community as a whole. I wanted to say I’m sorry to everyone I hurt or made feel unsafe. At YOS (Youth Offender System), I plan to continue my rehabilitation by attending therapy, participating in groups, completing trade programs, and earning my associate’s degree. With all these tools, I can safely and productively re-enter the community.
All I can ask now is that one day all the people I hurt can find it in themselves to forgive me despite what I did. Thank you Your Honor.
Assistant District Attorney Joseph Bucci gave the court a long list of sentencing factors for Judge Hertzke to consider. He said , “This case could not be more serious or more grave unless Kyle Leggett left that house in a body bag. This case could not be more serious short of death.”
Bucci spoke of Lemaster’s prior criminal history, holding up papers that said it was more than three pages worth of history in Denver and Steamboat Springs and that one instance was attacking a younger brother with brass knuckles when on probation. He said that progressed on to, “extremely violent crimes against random, innocent members of the community.”
Bucci said when Lemaster was at a youth detention facility in Grand Mesa, and then at the Routt County Detention Center (RCDC) when he turned 18 in June, there were 57 minor and 30 major rule violations. One recent one was a shakedown on Sept. 30, 2025, at the RCDC, where Lemaster was found to have a known contraband which was ‘hooch.” Bucci said when it was discovered, 11 days after Lemaster had pled guilty, he asked, “What effect will this have on my sentencing?”
Deputy Public Defender Kathryn Bush spoke about what led up to the incident, adding that she was “not minimizing what happened.” She said Lemaster thought the house was empty and that he was not going there to commit a violent act. He had a knife so that he could try to open the door.
Lemaster was 16 at the time of the attack on Leggett. Bush called him a “child,” throughout the sentencing adding that it should be looked at “through a child that was not fully developed.”
Bush said Lemaster understands he’ll be spending his formative years in what is considered a “medium security prison.”
She then went on to say the Department of Human Services was actively involved in the Lemaster home, adding that there was a lack of consistency and a lack of structure. Bush said, “This doesn’t undercut his actions. He has pled guilty. But it explains why the child may have done this.”
Both of Lemaster’s parents were in the courtroom.
Judge Hertzke said at sentencing that this offense reaches the highest level of seriousness, and on the impact to the victim. He said people in the community are watching to make sure a “violent crime will carry serious consequences.” He said this sentencing will send a clear message to the community.
He added that the sentencing should encourage Lemaster to take responsibility for his actions, but that he “has seen very little indication that he has started to take responsibility for his crimes.”
He said Lemaster needs the maximum time available at the YOS to rehabilitate his behavior.
Judge Hertzke finished his statement with the following: “Mr. LeMaster, when you are released from YOS, you’ll be about 24 years old. That is not old. That is still very young. I think everybody in this courtroom, except for perhaps you, would agree that that is very young. And you will get to do many things that Ms. Leggett cannot do. You will be able to eat a meal of your choice. You’ll be able to have children. You’ll be able to not have to rely on medications to get through the day. Even something as trivial as wearing a bathing suit without everybody seeing large scars. But only if you change your behavior. If you make the most out of your time at YOS, you will more or less get to lead a normal life. But if you continue to behave as you have, in Grand Mesa, in the Routt County Jail, things will be very different for you and you’ll end up in prison for a long time. So things are now in your hands.”
A hearing will be scheduled for restitution.
Previous Steamboat Radio News coverage
- Sept. 19, 2025 — Lemaster sentencing scheduled for Dec. 5
- March 3, 2025 — Juvenile charged with stabbing local pre-school teacher will be tried as an adult
- Feb. 2, 2025 — Judge hears closing arguments on whether to try juvenile suspect as an adult in the case involving the stabbing of a local pre-school teacher
- May 30, 2024 — Pre-school teacher Kylie Leggett returns after 30 days in the hospital
- Northwest Colorado News for Thursday, April 25, 2024