QUOTE : He felt of Emma’s forehead. “She’s still a mite warm.” He turned. “I’ll ride for Doc Foster.” At that moment, a peal of thunder cracked overhead. Emma jerked but didn’t waken. McKenna hastily soothed her back to sleep and caught Wyatt at the front door. Already in his duster again, she grabbed his arm. “She doesn’t need Dr. Foster, Wyatt. Her fever’s breaking.” He reached for the door, not seeming to hear her. She reached up and took his face in her hands. He stilled. “Emma’s going to be okay. Her fever’s breaking.” His face was a mixture of pain and fear, and suddenly his actions made more sense to her. “Did your Bethany die of fever?” she whispered, already seeing the answer in his eyes. “I can’t—” His voice caught. “I can’t lose another child that way.” She hugged him to her as tight as she could, wanting him to feel every part of her loving him. “You won’t. You won’t lose Emma.” He lifted her face to his, and McKenna met his kiss and returned it. “You’re sure she’s all right?” he said. McKenna nodded. “Yes, but . . .” She looked down and away. “I did something I shouldn’t have done.” “What? What did you do?” Shame poured through her. “Emma kept crying for Janie, asking for her mama.” She shrugged. “I couldn’t console her, her fever was high.” She closed her eyes. “I told her that . . . I was her mama. I know it was wrong. I don’t want her to forget Janie, it’s just that—” “You remember that night, McKenna,” he said, his voice soft, “when Janie asked you to take care of her?” She nodded. “I’ll never forget it.” “Janie asked you to take her . . . and make her your own. Those were her exact words.