Page 245 of Cowboy Daddies

George Reynolds the Third.

Hmm. He had heard of him. He did a bit of a quick search.

Right. George Reynolds the Third owned the largest horse farm in Connecticut. Jeb had some connections he could lean on in Connecticut.

It was time to start ruining good old George.

Chapter Twenty-Two

“Oh no!” she cried. “Oh no! Oh no!”

The smoke alarm was screaming.

Shit.

That noise was so obnoxious. How far did the noise reach? To the moon?

Casey slid into the kitchen, nearly falling as her feet threatened to give out on her.

Stupid fluffy socks.

They were really cute, though.

They were green with a tail at the top and two eyes on top of her toes. They could be lizard socks but she was choosing to think of them as alligators.

“How do I turn it off? Where’s a towel? Oh no! Everything is burned!” she cried.

Wyatt rushed in after her. “Wow! What’s that smell? What did you burn?”

“Dinner,” she said as she opened the oven door. If she could get rid of the source of all the smoke, then maybe she could get the alarm to stop.

But all that did was make the smoke billow in her face. She coughed and ran her hand in front of her face, her eyes streaming.

Quickly, she shut the door again and turned off the oven. There were no flames at least. Grabbing a chair, she climbed onto it and could just reach the smoke alarm. She unscrewed it, lifting it off and tossing it away.

The noise immediately stopped.

Thank god.

Casey got off the chair and sat on it, exhausted.

Wyatt came and stood in front of her, his eyes wide. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah. Are you all right?” she asked.

“Yeah. The smoke alarm doesn’t look too good, though.”

She glanced down at the smoke alarm which she hadn’t meant to throw.

Drat.

“Looks like I owe your dad a new smoke alarm,” she said with a sigh.

Casey had been here four nights. She’d really thought that she might be getting better at cooking by now.

It hadn’t seemed to be that hard to master.

Turns out she was wrong.