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syringe. “This happened twice yesterday. Try to hold her still.”
    McKenna worked to subdue her, amazed that Janie’s body still commanded such strength.
    She became aware of Wyatt Caradon’s presence beside her. He took hold of Janie’s wrists and gently, but firmly, held her down.
    Dr. Foster was about to slip the needle into the pale flesh of her arm when she suddenly stilled. Janie opened her eyes and blinked. Her breaths came staggered.
    McKenna leaned closer and brushed back the limp blonde hair from her temples. “Janie, can you hear me?”
    It took her a moment to focus. “Kenny?” she finally whispered.
    “Yes.” McKenna gasped softly, part laugh, part cry. “It’s me. I’m here.”
    “You came . . .” Janie’s hand moved over the covers, seeking hers.
    McKenna clasped it and brought it to her cheek. “Yes, I came. I’m here. It’s going to be all right, Janie. I’ll take care of you.”
    Janie squinted, as though trying to see beyond the temporal. “Vince . . .” Her face crumpled. “Our baby . . .”
    The hopelessness in her eyes told McKenna there was no use trying to mislead her about the child. “We’ll get through this. I’ll help you. We’ll be together just like we were when we were younger.”
    Janie’s eyes slipped closed again. “I’m just so tired.”
    “Look at me, Janie. Look at me!”
    Janie did as she asked, but already there was something different about her gaze.
    McKenna’s throat tightened, and the dark hole inside her yawned wide. She cradled Janie’s cheek in her palm. “We’ll have the ranch we dreamed about when we were little girls. Do you remember that? What we used to talk about?”
    Janie squeezed her hand. “I remember . . .” A smile ghosted her parched lips. “I’m glad . . . you’re here.” Her breath caught and she winced.
    “Are you in pain? Dr. Foster’s with us. He can give you something.”
    “No . . . I’m—I don’t . . . feel much.” Slowly, Janie’s attention moved around the bed and settled near the footboard. The smile that barely touched her mouth seconds ago somehow found new strength and bloomed. “Thank you,” she whispered.
    Frowning, McKenna looked to see where Janie was staring, and something inside her gave way. No one was there.
    “Where’s Emma?” Janie whispered, trying to raise her head.
    “Emma’s asleep in her bed.” Dr. Foster urged her back down. “Don’t you worry about her. Emma’s fine.”
    Janie sank back in to the pillow. “You’ve always . . . been strong.”
    It took McKenna a moment to realize Janie was speaking to her. She shook her head, sensing what Janie was doing, and couldn’t stem the tears. “You’re going to be all right.”
    “Emma’s . . . just like you, Kenny. When we were young.”
    Her breath caught again, and McKenna could almost see the strings binding her cousin to this earth loosening, bit by bit.
    “Take Emma . . . and make her your own.”
    It wasn’t a question. And the request wasn’t something McKenna could deny, even if she’d wanted to. But surely Janie was forgetting about the letters telling her about Robert. McKenna leaned closer, wishing they were alone, and very much aware of Marshal Cardon beside her, listening. “Janie, I—I don’t know if I’m the best choice. Things haven’t turned out very well with Rob—”
    “ Please, Kenny.”
    McKenna felt herself nodding and forced the words past the lump in her throat and the fear in her heart. “I will. I’ll take care of her.”
    “The ranch . . .” Janie’s voice faltered. “Everything . . . is yours.”
    McKenna bit back a refusal. She didn’t want it. Any of it. “Janie, I only want you here,” she whispered. She wanted this precious woman to live. The beseeching in Janie’s eyes finally won out, and McKenna nodded again.
    Slowly, Janie’s gaze shifted to Dr. Foster, whose expression was gentle.
    “I understand,” he whispered. “I’ll serve as witness to your last wishes, Janie.