Perfect Touch by Elizabeth Lowell

books. And it’s the kind of detail that makes Custer and his work come alive, beyond the paintings themselves.”
    â€œMore dollar signs.”
    She wiped away the last of her tears. “What you’ve told me makes the artist more human, more accessible to people who can’t paint butcan appreciate art.” She looked past the site of the burned paintings. “Where else did Custer live while he painted landscapes on the ranch?”
    â€œHe stayed in every building on the ranch, with the exception of the main house. Well, maybe he passed out here once or twice. JD, too.” Jay smiled. “They were good friends until they stopped being good friends. Maybe they both outgrew each other. More likely they just got on each other’s nerves.”
    â€œTough for two legends to share the same space,” Sara said.
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI’ve seen the Vermilion name on more than a few places in Jackson. JD was a big wheel and a statewide legend.”
    Jay made a sound that could have been a laugh. “Tough for me to see it like that. One of the ‘legends’ was my father and the other was a prankster, a drunk, and JD’s sidekick.”
    â€œSounds like more stories.”
    â€œA whole childhood of them. But I’m not keeping us up all night jawing. Dawn comes early and cold at this time of year.”
    â€œJust a few minutes more. I can’t believe it’s real and I’m here. It’s the difference between reading history and living it.”
    Sara looked at the barn and the outbuilding, ebony against the lambent sky. The buildings stopped and the land kept going and going, all the way to the mountains. It was big, so very big, and anything was possible in it.
    I’ll help Jay keep his ranch. The next generation of Vermilions? Well, a man like him will find a woman willing to spend her life out here and have his children.
    And if I don’t like that thought, tough.
    I’ve worked too hard to end up like my mother.

CHAPTER 9
    J AY AND SARA were just finishing a big breakfast when Henry came in.
    â€œA friend called me and said he’d heard some half-drunk gold hunters bragging about panning in our creeks,” Henry said.
    â€œAre the two new hands on their feet yet?”
    â€œNot hardly. I sent Billy to check on Barton’s quarter of the ranch.”
    Jay waited. Henry had run the ranch a long time. Jay hated to second-guess him, but he would.
    â€œI don’t trust Barton not to sneak some engineers or such up there,” Henry said. “He knows we’re not using the land for grazing because the fences have been cut so many times by trespassers and druggies.”
    All likely sent by Barton, Jay thought. In his own way, he’s as persistent as his mother. But what he doesn’t know or won’t admit is that the less grazing land on the ranch, the less money for everyone.
    â€œDoes Billy have a radio?” Jay asked.
    â€œHe knows the rules.”
    â€œAnything else I should know?”
    â€œSupposedly some crazy mountain man is roaming around the north forty, shooting at whatever takes his fancy.”
    â€œHave you told the sheriff?” Sara asked quickly.
    Henry laughed. “Until someone is shot, the sheriff don’t care much.”
    â€œCooke has too few men to ride herd on our ranch problems,” Jay said to her. “He’ll write reports if we insist, but why waste his time and mine?” He looked at Henry and asked drily, “Any more good news?”
    â€œNope. Horses are loaded up and ready to go. Amble is saddled for you. I saddled Jezebel and Mooch. Sara can take her pick. Skunk and Lightfoot are waiting by the corral. Saddlebags are packed.”
    Jay said, “Sounds like you covered everything. Good work.”
    Henry grunted and went back outside.
    Sara started collecting dishes.
    â€œLeave them,” Jay said. “Elena and her daughter will be