“Structure.”
“Expensive word for big.”
Claire smiled.
“He’s more than big.”
Mateo watched.
Claire continued.
“Look at the shoulder.”
“What about it?”
“Angle.”
Mateo looked.
“Hindquarter?”
“Still heavy despite condition loss.”
“Feet?”
“Good.”
“Head?”
She nodded.
“He was bred intentionally.”
Mateo frowned.
“All cattle are bred intentionally.”
“You know what I mean.”
“Somebody selected for that frame.”
She pointed.
“That chest.”
“That width.”
“That bone.”
Mateo remained unconvinced.
“Doesn’t explain why someone let him become that.”
“No.”
“That bothers me.”
“Me too.”
They watched in silence.
After several minutes, Mateo asked:
“What if he dies?”
Claire looked toward the bull.
“Then he dies.”
Mateo turned.
“You’re calm about losing a thousand dollars?”
“No.”
She exhaled.
“I’m realistic about buying a sick animal.”
“If he dies, I learn.”
“If he survives, I learn.”
Mateo nodded.
“That grandfather again?”
Claire smiled faintly.
“Probably.”
The first day passed.
No birds came.
The bull drank.
That was good.
He ate hay slowly.
Also good.
Dr. Salazar returned.
His temperature remained acceptable.
His gums were still pale.
The parasite load remained terrible.
By evening, the bull had begun scratching his neck against a heavy post.
Mateo watched.
“We cannot wait too long.”
Claire knew.
“I’m not.”
“You keep looking at the sky.”
“I’m allowed to look.”
He sighed.
On the second morning, two vultures circled high over the southern pasture.
Nothing else.
One ranch hand joked:
“Maybe they’re waiting for the bull to finish dying.”
Mateo shut him up with a look.
Claire heard anyway.
Confidence had become harder.
She did not admit it.
At noon, she walked the quarantine fence.
The bull’s head hung lower.
Dr. Salazar had adjusted supportive care.
The regulated parasite-control plan continued.
But nobody expected the visible infestation to vanish overnight.
Claire leaned against the fence.
“Come on.”
She was not sure whether she meant the bull.
The birds.
Her grandfather.
Or herself.
That afternoon, an old auction video appeared online.
Someone had recorded her bid.
The clip showed Claire raising the paddle.
The bull.
The laughing cattlemen.
Then the older rancher shouting:
“You’re hauling a disaster home!”
The video spread through local ranching groups.
Comments arrived.
Garza finally lost her mind.
A thousand dollars plus treatment?
Hope she bought a shovel.
This is what happens when sentiment buys livestock.
One comment was worse.
Maybe she should stick to cooking.
Claire read it.
Then locked her phone.
Mateo noticed.
“People?”
“Yes.”
“Want me to respond?”
She stared.
“You barely know how messaging works.”
“I know angry.”
Claire laughed.
That helped.
“Leave it.”
“Why?”
“Because either the bull lives or he doesn’t.”
“Comments won’t change either.”
Mateo smiled.
“Now you sound like José.”