Annabel's career as a fireman hadn't lasted long. She had honored her promise to Cole and retired as soon as she knew for sure that she was pregnant. Her service with the San Francisco Fire Department—this time around!—would be only a brief historical footnote, if that much. It was entirely possible, she knew, that history might forget about her entirely.
But that was all right. And although she sometimes missed being a member of the department, being retired was all right, too. She had Cole, and she had Michael, and they were the two most precious things in the world to her.
But who knew? Maybe someday, when Michael was older. . .
"I’m glad you came up here with me," Cole said. "I could have gone to the sawmill to see about buying lumber for the new warehouse by myself, but it wouldn't have been nearly as enjoyable a trip."
"It felt a little strange, riding the ferry across to Oakland and stepping out onto the dock," Annabel admitted, "I couldn't help but remember when we first met there." Even though that fateful day was fifteen months in the past, her memories of it were still quite vivid. "You must have thought I was insane."
"The thought crossed my mind," Cole said dryly, then he went on, "No, not really. All I could really think about was how beautiful you were, and how your eyes were the most compelling eyes I'd ever seen." He looked over at her. "They still are, and you're still the most beautiful woman in the world. You always will be."
She smiled and leaned her head against his shoulder.
There was nothing wrong with contentment—as long as she didn't ever allow it to make her complacent.
Not likely, she thought.
At the sawmill, Cole struck a deal for the lumber that would go into his new warehouse. The time would come, Annabel reflected, when this whole area would be a park and logging would no longer be allowed. That was good, but it was still in the future. She had learned to accept that about a lot of things.
And to tell the truth, though she still had some memories from her previous life, most of the time it seemed like she had been here in the first decade of the twentieth century forever. Cole was responsible for that. She still had no real answer to the riddle of how she had been transported back in time, but she firmly believed it had to do with the fact that the universe meant for her and Cole to be together. Some things just had to be, and the laws of time and space and physics didn't mean a thing in the face of true love.
She had packed a picnic lunch before they left the house on Russian Hill that morning—the new house—and Cole found a good place for them to stop and eat on the way back from the sawmill. It was a grassy, flower-dotted meadow at the base of a hill. Cole stopped the wagon and took a large quilt from the back. He spread it on the grass, then took the picnic basket when Annabel handed it down to him. He placed it on the quilt and reached back up to take Michael.
There was nothing Annabel liked better than watching Cole hold their son, she thought as she joined the two of them on the quilt and opened the picnic basket. Cole was talking nonsense to the baby, and he had Michael laughing and cooing. Michael had only recently started doing that, and Annabel loved the sound of it.
Cole and Annabel ate the fried chicken, biscuits, and fruit from the basket, then she unbuttoned her dress and took Michael so that he could eat, too. Cole stretched out, leaning on an elbow, and grinned across the quilt at them as he watched. "Some picnic, eh, lad?" he asked. Michael didn't say anything in reply.
Later, after Michael had finished nursing and Cole was holding him again, Annabel stood up and fastened her buttons. "I believe I'll take a walk to the top of the hill." she said.
"Go ahead. I think Michael's getting sleepy, though."
"Just sit there and rock him. He'll doze off soon."
"Well, all right. Are you sure you don't mind going for that walk by yourself?"
Annabel smiled. "What's going to happen to me?" She turned and started up the hill, enjoying the sight of the flowers waving in the gentle breeze. When she reached the top, she stood and took a deep breath of the clean air. At this elevation, it was crisp and almost cool, even in summer.