Something was wrong with the cows.
Jane glared at the GPS monitor, which showed the location of every animal the Bar Sinister Ranch owned on the plateau. Normally the herd moved as an amorphous, amoeba-like blob within the boundary fences, drifting to and fro in search of water and good grazing.
Today, they were making patterns. Human patterns. Clear, recognizable shapes no cow should know anything about. It was, to Jane’s mind, odd.
She crested the final rise and brought the Jeep to a skidding stop. Sure enough, there they were. Three hundred head of Flying Guernsey, standing precisely in the outline of a giant cartoon heart.
One thing the GPS hadn’t been able to show her: they were glowing. Continue reading Jane’s Cowboy’s Father’s Secret Space Ranch