He squeezed her hand and ran with her back to the four-wheeler. He leaped into the driver’s seat and she jumped in the other side. He started the engine, turned on the headlights, and tore out down the dirt road. No time for stealth now. They were racing against time.
As Trey passed the asphalt road between his ranch and the tree farm, he glanced down it. Jeremy’s police car hadn’t moved an inch. He wanted to go down there, but it had to wait. He kept going so he could come up on the backside of the tree farm. Ahead, he finally saw the Gladstones’ white van. He pointed for Misty to notice it, too. She nodded that she’d been proven right.
He cut left into the tree farm and kept going fast, dodging in between small cedars, smelling their pungent aroma, feeling the sharp limbs scrape across his bare arm through the open roll bars. He glanced to see if Misty was okay. She was leaning forward and toward the center of the ATV as she searched for the fire.
When he saw a flash of orange-red cut into the darkness, he aimed the ATV straight for the blaze. On the other side of the burning tree, J.P. and Charlene stood frozen with horrified expressions on their faces. They might as well be two deer caught in the headlights. He realized all they saw was a big four-wheeler barreling down on them. They couldn’t see who drove the vehicle or the intent of the driver. Finally, J.P. grabbed Charlene’s arm and started pulling her in the direction of their van, but she kept stumbling because of her high heels and impeding their progress.
Trey decided they weren’t armed or they wouldn’t be running away. He needed to stop them, but he had no way of subduing them. And then he had an idea that might work.
“Misty, take over driving, will you? No matter what happens, keep on their tail.” He hollered above the sound of the engine and the scrape of the cedars against the ATV.
“I’ve never driven a four-wheeler before.”
“You watched me. That’s good enough.”
He let go of the wheel and she caught it. He twisted around, grabbed the roll bar above his head, levered his body up and over the front seats, then landed on the backseat. He checked on Misty. She’d changed seats and was driving like a pro, staying right on the Gladstones as they tried to make it to their van.
He tossed a couple of old towels and a fire extinguisher into the front passenger seat. And he found what he was looking for on the floorboard. A rope. He grabbed it, made sure there was already a loop in place, and then stood up on the backseat.
With his head and chest above the open metal frame, he balanced against the swaying of the ATV with both feet, not unlike riding a bucking bronc. He raised his lasso over his head and started spinning it—waiting for just the right moment to rope two at once.
Trey watched as Misty kept after the Gladstones, but they weren’t an easy target. They were weaving between saplings, sometimes together, other times apart. Maybe this wasn’t going to work after all. And then Charlene turned an ankle and went down. J.P. helped her up and kept an arm around her waist as they headed toward the van again. Just the opportunity Trey needed. He had one shot and it’d better work. He judged distance and forward momentum. And let the rope fly up—out, over—and the big loop of rope settled around the shoulders of J.P. and Charlene. Trey jerked hard and they went down in a heap with the rope binding their arms against their bodies.
“Stop!” Trey hollered to Misty. “I’ve got them. You get the fire.”
As she slowed down, he leaped out of the ATV, keeping the rope tight in his hands. He heard Misty turn the four-wheeler around and head back toward the fire.
He ran over to the couple struggling to untangle from each other and remove the rope, but he’d been to this rodeo a few times before. He knew how to truss up a calf. He jerked hard, pinning their arms to their sides, then dropped to his knees and wound the rope around their ankles, back up to tie their wrists together, and tied off the rope. He’d been quick, just like he always was in an arena. Now they were hog-tied good and proper. They weren’t hurt, except for their pride.
He hurried back to Misty, listening to Charlene’s screams and curses as she struggled to get free. Guess she wasn’t much of a lady when things didn’t go her way.
Misty was beating at the fire with two towels, but trees with sap were hard to put out. He ran to the ATV, grabbed the fire extinguisher, came back, and doused the small tree as well as several saplings near it since he figured the Gladstones had poured gasoline over a wide area. Finally the blaze went out and the moonlit night again returned to silver and gray.
He hugged Misty close. “Got ’em.”
“I’ve never seen anything to match you riding that ATV like the back of a horse and whirling that rope above your head. I’m so proud of you.”
“Thanks. Got lucky.”
They walked over to check on the Gladstones. J.P. and Charlene were struggling to get free of the rope that bound them.
“Hate to tell you,” Trey said, “but the more you worry those knots, the tighter they’ll get.”