Early the next morning I ventured out of the house. Rosa had said the morning was the coolest time of the day and the best for walking. The street was lined with trees and fine houses set back from green, well-trimmed lawns. Each house was of a different style, large and elegant. Mayflower had told me that the street was named Swiss Avenue, after two Swiss brothers who had built the first house here. Many of the richest people in Dallas lived here. And it had the only paved street in the city, Mayflower said, and a private trolley to take residents into Dallas. It occurred to me that Aidan’s house, while still beautiful, was modest in comparison to its neighbors. I smiled to myself. I was not surprised that Aidan’s house would reflect his impatience with the showiness so prevalent in New York. It was one of the many things I liked about him.

I sighed, remembering how much more relaxed he had been at dinner last night. Perhaps the move to Texas had made him more at ease. I hoped that our newfound relationship would flourish. I knew that it would take time. I could hardly expect to pick up where we left off that morning on the train, when he had stroked my hair and confessed how close he’d grown to me. Who knows what would have happened if Lily had not interrupted us? I scolded myself for such a thought. Don’t be so greedy, Delia. Why isn’t his friendship enough for you? But I knew that it would not be enough. My soul yearned for an intimacy beyond mere friendship. Why not? I protested. Surely anything is possible in this wild, unruly place—even love.

At the end of the week, Aidan and Hans Humboldt left for the oil fields. Aidan was anxious to see his wells; Hans said a few had come in while Aidan was in New York, but none of them were “gushers.” Aidan was planning to acquire some new leases in the hope of expanding production. The oil fields were located south-east of Dallas, near a town with the curious name of Shotgun City. I laughed when I heard it.

“Crazy, ain’t it?” said Mayflower. “But it sure describes the place. I wouldn’t even call it a town, just a bunch of ole tents and lean-tos. It used to only have about four hundred souls, but now it’s closer to four thousand, and growing every day—folks of every cast and creed coming there hell-bent on making their fortunes in oil.”

I was horrified. “Will Aidan and Hans be sleeping in a tent?”