Pendergast stood up. “Your Honor, the defense argues absurdity, but in the West, a man’s word is his bond. If we allow wealthy men to make public promises and then retract them simply because they lose, we erode the foundation of our society. Furthermore, we have new evidence regarding the horse in question.”
Pendergast waved to the back. A young woman walked forward carrying a file. She was a veterinarian from the State Board.
“This horse,” Pendergast said, gesturing to Midnight, who was tied calmly nearby, “was sold to Mr. Gentry under the name Widowmaker with falsified papers. However, a microchip scan conducted yesterday reveals his true identity. He is Midnight Star, a registered Thoroughbred stolen from the Miller Farm in North Dakota five years ago during a foreclosure auction that was later deemed illegal due to clerical fraud.”
The crowd gasped. Toby sat up straighter, his eyes wide. He hadn’t known about the illegal auction.
“Mr. Harlan Gentry,” Pendergast continued, his voice rising, “didn’t just bet his ranch. He unknowingly bet it against the rightful owner of the property he was abusing. Toby Miller didn’t just tame a wild horse. He reclaimed his stolen inheritance.”
Judge Whittaker leaned back in his chair. He looked at Harlan, who was staring at the table, defeated. He looked at Toby. Then he looked at the ranch, the rolling hills, the vast sky.
“Mr. Gentry,” the Judge said, his voice gravelly, “you bet the ranch. You lost. You tried to cheat. You tried to kill. And it turns out you were tormenting a creature that belonged to this boy all along.” The Judge slammed his gavel onto the folding table. “Ruling for the plaintiff. The deed to the Gentry estate is to be transferred to Tobias Miller, effective immediately. Mr. Gentry, you are to vacate the premises by sundown. And I suggest you don’t speed on your way out. The Sheriff is in a bad mood.”
The cheer that went up from the crowd was deafening. Caps were thrown in the air. People hugged Toby, but Toby didn’t smile. He just walked over to the horse. He buried his face in Midnight’s neck.
“We got a home, buddy,” he whispered. “A real home.”
Six months later, the sign above the main gate no longer read “Gentry Estate.” It was a simple, hand-painted sign that read “Midnight Sanctuary.”..
