When I climbed down from the train at a depot called Fort Worth, I felt as if I had been traveling forever. My clothes were crumpled and dusty, and the heat inside the train carriage had made me drowsy. I set down my bag, then straightened up and stretched. Aidan walked up to me, holding Lily by the hand. The child was skipping with excitement.

“Come,” Aidan said. “José should be waiting for us.”

I was a little confused. “I thought we were going to Dallas,” I said. “Didn’t we pass that depot a little while ago?”

He grinned. “I wanted to come here first because there’s something I’d like to show you.”

I followed him out of the station. Outside, a scorching heat enveloped me, setting the back of my exposed neck on fire. I thought I might faint. I took a deep breath and tried to shake myself awake. The heat seemed to have no effect on Aidan or Lily. They both smiled broadly at a short, brown-skinned man walking toward us. He wore tall leather boots, narrow pants and a large black hat. He removed his hat and gave a small bow.

“Welcome, Señor O’Hanlon,” he said.

“Hello, José,” Aidan said, shaking the man’s hand. “It’s good to see you after all this time. You remember Lily, and this is Miss Sweeney, her governess.”

José bowed to me, then looked down at Lily. “The niñita, she has grown.”

He led us down the steps to a mud-splattered blue car. Its top had been rolled down, meaning the passengers would be exposed to the merciless sun. José held open the doors and Aidan climbed into the front seat, while Lily and I settled ourselves in the back. José went off to fetch our luggage. Aidan took off his jacket and tie and threw them in the back seat beside me, then he opened his shirt collar.

“Ah, it’s so good to be back,” he said, “where we can leave all of the stuffiness of New York behind us.”

I wanted to ask how he could stand such heat, but I didn’t want to complain. As if reading my mind, he said, “It’s hot for early May, Miss Sweeney, but you’ll have to get used to it. The next three months will be even hotter. It shocks Northerners when they first arrive, and those who cannot take it go home. It’s a test of their resilience. Those who stay are the ones who truly belong here.”

I wanted to point out that he was a Northerner himself, but I kept silent.