Page 40 of The Rancher's Heart

“Yuck! No!”

“And there you go. At the time, I thought it was yucky too.”

“But you’re old now. You should tell him before it’s too late.”

“Older. I’m older.” And maybe it was already too late. Sloane laughed, even though Clara had a point about running out of time. “It just wouldn’t work out now. I have the garage, and he has the ranch and horses to make something of. And I also have you. You’re way more important than having some silly boyfriend.”

“That’s dumb.” Clara frowned. “He’s not silly.”

No, he wasn’t. He was... Jonas... her lifelong heartthrob.

“You’re right, but that’s the way it is,” Sloane said steadily, keeping her thoughts to herself.

“I still say you should tell him,” Clara insisted as they pulled into Durango and easily found a parking spot.

Her sister was going to be hard to keep up with, but that didn’t put Sloane off. She grabbed the cameras. “I don’t think so. Let’s get our tickets.”

Clara didn’t argue, thank goodness, just stared at Sloane, looking like her mind was working up a plan to get big sis in trouble with a certain suddenly very friendly friend.

When they found their seats, she pulled out both cameras and taught Clara how to use the older model. The teen was an eager learner and picked up the complexities of photography fast. They took lots of pictures of the train snaking around the bends in the rail, the natural canyons they scooted by, the engines pulling the cars behind them. It was a perfect outing with her sister.

By the time they returned to the station, they were both exhausted, but they’d had fun and hadn’t talked about Jonas once. That was all that mattered in Sloane’s book.

On the way home, they grabbed tacos for dinner. After they finished eating, Sloane locked up and turned out the lights. Clara went to bed.

“Did you have fun?” Sloane leaned on the doorjamb.

“Yeah...” The kid fell asleep almost before her head hit the pillow. The next morning, Sloane was awakened by an insistent noise coming from the front of the house. She was still in the same position she’d fallen asleep in. The knock came again, louder this time. She glanced at the clock and jumped out of bed.

“Holy moly!” She was late. Pushing her hair off her face, she hurried to the door.

Jerking the door open, as she expected, she found Jonas, his hand raised to knock again. Catching her off guard, he looked perfect in his jeans and short-sleeved shirt that showed off his strong arms. His usual cowboy boots finished off the picture of an incredibly handsome rancher.

Not about to let him see how tempted she was, she spun away from the amusement lighting his eyes and headed back to her room. “Sorry. We slept in.” She flung her hand in the direction of the kitchen on her way. “The coffee maker is ready to turn on.”

And then she looked down. Oh dear!

It wasn’t the first time Jonas had seen her in pajamas. It’s just that the older, tatty ones she’d grabbed in the dark last night didn’t leave much to the imagination, dang it. It would be nice if she owned a robe, but they made her too hot. If he was going to make a habit of showing up on her doorstep so early in the morning, she should reconsider that and put it on her birthday list.

Heat washed over Sloane, head to toe, as she poked her head into Clara’s room. “Clara! Jonas is here. It’s time to get up—”

She pushed the door all the way open. Clara’s room was empty, her bed made. Sloane checked the bathroom. “Clara?” Dear God! Her heart climbed into her throat. “Jonas!”

“What?” He met her in the hallway. “What’s wrong?”

Sloane forgot about her infamous pajamas that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Her heart thumped, almost breaking free from her chest. “It’s Clara—She’s gone!”

Chapter Eleven

Taking Sloane bythe hand, Jonas helped her search the whole house. It didn’t take long to determine the teen was not there. Sloane was shaking, and he wanted to toss the bacon and eggs he’d eaten earlier.

Back in Clara’s room, he wrapped his arms around Sloane and held her tight. “We’ll find her, I promise. She couldn’t have gone far.”

“Maybe she left a note.” Sloane pushed out of his arms and found a long shirt to put over her lacking pj’s. They were adorable but now was not the time.

Clara hadn’t left a message saying where she’d gone.

“I’ll check outside.” Quickly, he circled the house, front and back, before heading back inside. Sloane was staring out the kitchen window into the backyard. “She’s not here.”

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