He put his hands on her shoulders and drew her closer for a kiss that lasted longer. "I love you," he whispered when he finally pulled back.
"And I love you," she said. Though she hated to leave his embrace, she stepped away from him, then with a cheerful wave turned and headed toward the cable car stop.
****
Annabel spent part of the afternoon at Mellisande Dupree's shop talking to the older woman, who had become a good friend. Mellisande was thrilled to hear that Annabel and Cole were officially engaged. "It's about time he made an honest woman of you," she said.
Annabel blushed at that comment, well aware that she never would have done so had she still been back in her own lime. But 1906 was different, and she reminded herself that now, this was her time.
"Does Frances know yet?" Mellisande asked.
"No, I haven't had a chance to tell her yet."
"Then I won't mention it to her," Mellisande said. "News such as this should always be delivered by the bride-to-be herself."
"Thank you. That's awfully nice of you."
"Not at all," Mellisande insisted. "Just don't wait too long, or I shall go mad with impatience if I can't start planning your wedding."
"Cole and I are going to supper at Mrs. Noone's house tomorrow night. I thought we would tell her then."
Mellisande nodded. "An excellent idea."
From the dress shop, Annabel returned to the house on Russian Hill. Mellisande's comment about planning the wedding had started Annabel thinking, and she spent the rest of the afternoon going over ideas in her mind. There would be a great many things to decide between now and the time that she and Cole became husband and wife.
Husband and wife. . . That certainly had a nice sound to it, Annabel thought.
It was evening, and the servants had already gone home for the day when Annabel heard the doorbell ring. She looked up in surprise from the chair in the parlor where she was sitting. Cole's shift at the firehouse wouldn't be over for more than an hour yet, and besides, he wouldn't ring the bell when coming into his own house. Annabel smiled as she realized who the visitor probably was. Mellisande likely hadn't been able to resist the temptation and was here to talk about the wedding.
Annabel went to the front door and reached for the knob, and the thought flashed through her mind that in the era she had come from, she never would have opened her apartment door without first knowing who was on the other side.
She swung open the front door and then jumped back with a startled gasp as the body tumbled through the entrance to sprawl on the floor of the foyer.
****
It was all Cole could do not to whistle in sheer joy as he unlocked the front door of his house and stepped inside. Until the past few weeks, he had never felt this way about coming home.
Not until Annabel had come into his life.
He shut the door, then hung up his uniform jacket and cap and turned toward the parlor. Suddenly, a dark smudge on the polished wooden floor of the foyer caught his eye, and with a puzzled frown he stopped to examine it. He bent down and touched the smudge with his finger. Whatever it was, it was almost dry, but it still had a sticky feeling to it, almost like. . .
Almost like blood.
Cole shot upright, then called in a strained, urgent voice, "Annabel? Annabel, are you here?"
An answer came back immediately, and in a voice that he recognized with a huge sensation of relief. "In the parlor, Cole." Thank God, he thought, she sounded like she was all right.
Cole hurried to the arched entrance into the parlor, and was stopped in his tracks. He stood there and stared at Annabel and her visitor.
She was just straightening from the task of tying a bandage around the midsection of a burly Chinese man who was perched uncomfortably on the edge of the divan. The man's face had a grayish hue to it. Clearly, it had been his blood Cole had seen in the foyer.
"Annabel," Cole said in a choked voice, "what's going on here?"
"I'm glad you're home. Cole," she said as she turned toward him. She gestured toward the Chinese man. "This is Mr. Loo."
Through clenched teeth. Cole asked, "What's he doing here bleeding on my divan?"
"He's not bleeding on the divan," Annabel said. "I took him in the kitchen to clean the wound in his side and stop the bleeding. I only brought him in here so he'd be closer to the fireplace while I was bandaging him. I knew he needed to be kept warm so that he wouldn't go into shock from loss of blood."
Cole scrubbed a hand over his face. Annabel knew perfectly well what he was asking her, but sometimes dragging information out of her wasn't easy. He said, "Just start at the beginning and tell me the whole thing." He kept an eye on the man called Loo, instinctively not trusting him. This fellow Loo, he figured, might well be one of Wing Ko's boo how doy.
"All right," Annabel said. "I was sitting in here a while ago when the doorbell rang. I thought it might be Mellisande—I stopped by her shop earlier in the afternoon to tell her about our engagement—but it wasn't. When I opened the door, Mr. Loo collapsed onto the floor of the foyer."