And everything to do with a mark hidden where nobody in the auction ring had bothered to look.
The bull arrived at the Garza ranch just before sunset.
The property lay beyond a narrow county road, surrounded by dry grassland, mesquite trees, low limestone outcrops, and long stretches of fencing that had survived more storms than Claire could count.
It wasn't a large ranch compared with Wade's operation.
The family owned just under two hundred acres, much of it uneven, rocky, and unsuitable for intensive cultivation.
But the land had two advantages.
A reliable groundwater source.
And a remarkable network of old pasture divisions established by Claire's grandfather decades earlier.
Instead of cutting down every tree to create one enormous open field, he had preserved several broad mesquite corridors and native vegetation along the creek beds.
Those areas provided shade, shelter, and habitat for wildlife.
The grandfather had never claimed the ranch was perfect.
He simply believed that working land should remain a functioning landscape rather than becoming nothing but bare earth between fence posts.
Claire grew up hearing other ranchers mock his methods.
They called the mesquite corridors wasted acreage.
They complained that the old man was too sentimental about birds.
Wade Mercer had once offered to clear the entire southern pasture for him.
Her grandfather refused.
Wade never understood why.
Now, as the livestock trailer backed toward a separate holding enclosure on the northern edge of the property, Claire looked toward those same trees.
A gust of dry wind moved through the branches.
Somewhere overhead, a bird called.
She smiled faintly.
Then she turned back toward the trailer.
The hauler opened the rear gate.
The enormous bull stood near the back of the compartment, breathing heavily.
Claire moved to a safe position outside the animal's path.
"Easy, big fellow."
The bull shifted.
Its hooves scraped against the trailer floor.
Then it slowly stepped down the ramp.
Dust rose around its legs.
It paused at the bottom, raised its head, and surveyed the unfamiliar enclosure.
The ranch hand standing beside Claire let out a low whistle.
"That's a whole lot of animal."
Claire nodded.
"He is."
"And a whole lot of trouble."
"I know."
The older man studied the bull.
"You really paid a thousand for him?"
"Yes."
He shook his head.
"Your grandfather would've had something to say about that."
Claire smiled.