Mary loaded up her car with groceries and started driving. The brand was still simmering into her skin, though now the pain was much more tolerable. She figured in a half hour she wouldn't feel it at all.
She continued driving, though for some reason she was headed in the wrong direction. She drove out of town several miles, heeding some sort of instinct. It wasn't until she pulled her car up to a run-down farm that she came to her senses.
"What?" She blinked several times in disbelief. "How did I get here? Where IS here?" She was about to turn the car back on and drive home, but something inside her felt very familiar with this farm.
Curious, she got out of the car to investigate. Maybe she visited here once as a kid? Her dad used to take her into the country sometimes for picnics and sight-seeing. He always said the open air was good for healthy bodies and inner character.
There were a couple tall silos, with hills of expansive crop fields. She could see wheat and corn growing in the distance, and on one hill there was a herd of grazing cattle. A large red barn stood next to a modest country house. A hand-made sign above the porch read "High Field's Farm, Bed & Breakfast" with crude paintings of corn, a yellow sun...and a golden cowbell with horns attached, just like on her brand!
As she approached the house, a man stepped out of the door. He looked in his late fifties, dressed in overalls, a plaid shirt and dirty boots. His thin gray hair shone in the sun, and he squinted at Mary.
"Howdy, young lady," he said, examining her body. "That's an impressive udder you have there."
"Thank you," Mary said. "I'm not really sure why I'm here...I think I'm lost."
"Not'tall," the man pointed to her right shoulder. "That there's the brand of this farm. All our cattle have it."
"Oh," Mary said. "I got it from a woman in town today. She gave me this silly nose ring too. I can't seem to get it off." Mary hoped that maybe the man would be nice enough to relieve her of the bothersome thing.
"Looks good on you," he remarked. "Come on inside, let me show you around. Get to know the place."
"That's okay, I really should get home..."
"Missie, I don't think you quite understand," the man said sternly. "You have the brand of my farm. I'm guessin' you wanted it. That lady is one of the people I have on contract, who scout pretty livestock such as yourself and arrange to have them work for me."
"She never said any of that," Mary protested, starting to back away.
"You found a box o' vials this mornin'," he continued. "You wanted ta be a cow, you wanted that brand, and you don't know it yet, but you'll want ta stay here too. We pay well, and you can do reasonable work. The specific job is up ta you. We've already got a couple a' pig girls out back, they're helping take care of the animals. Just got a strong centaur 'bout an hour ago, he's trainin' the horses and herding the cattle. You can go out and graze in the field, supply milk, or you can come on inta' the house and be a maid."
"I'm really not sure about this..." Mary was almost back to her car. The old man continued to approach her.
"The others have only been here a few hours and they already love it. Just ask 'em."
Mary reached for the car door, but paused. The place seemed very friendly, and even though the old man was giving her a lecture, he had a non-confrontational voice and seemed very kind. She wondered if life on this farm wouldn't be that bad.