They spent the next hour studying the eight specimens she’d brought. The world of orchids was a mystery to her, and she listened in fascination as he explained how he cultivated thousands of vanilla orchid vines in the steeply sloped hills of Madagascar. Vanilla orchids were fussy plants that required hand pollination and bloomed for only a single day each year. That day could make or break a harvest. The vanilla orchid would have been driven to extinction but for the farmers and spice traders who rescued it.

The way he spoke with such passion about vanilla was appealing. He probably knew as much as any of their botanists, most of whom worked only in a laboratory. She gazed around his library, the shelves brimming with books and heavy scientific binders.

“Where did you study?” she asked.

“I never went to college, if that’s what you’re asking. I studied in the belly of a ship. Tromping through jungles and deserts. Talking to people. Trial and error. I envy you, Miss Larkin.”

She couldn’t imagine someone like him envying four years at the Kansas State Agricultural College, but there was no doubting his sincerity, for the longing on his face was profound.

She could have stayed all afternoon, learning about his tropical fields, but she had responsibilities in town. Elaine was depending on her.

“I should go,” she said.

“Do you have to?”

Her gaze locked with his. Despite his haggard appearance and illness, it seemed he genuinely wanted her to stay. She wished she could, but Elaine was waiting.

“I have responsibilities,” she said, standing to slide the specimen pages back into the portfolio. “I hope you will keep the map.”

He rolled it up and pushed it toward her. “It’s yours.”

“Oh, please keep it. I can’t imagine anyone who would appreciate the world of the spice trade as much as you. Even if the mapmaker got his cloves wrong.”

He stood more carefully this time, bracing a hand on the desk as he slowly pushed to his feet. “I don’t like to be indebted. I’ve enjoyed your visit, but you must understand that I am violently opposed to sharing anything with the Smithsonian. It will never happen, so I’d feel better if you took your map back.”

She leaned over to pick up her portfolio. She’d lingered far too long as it was, but she wasn’t going to leave with that map. It had cracked open the door to his world, and she wanted him to feel indebted, even if only for a foolish trinket.

“It’s yours,” she said simply. “Do with it as you like.”

She felt his gaze on her back as she walked down the hallway and out the door. Her heart pounded the entire way, partly from her minor victory, but mostly from something else she was afraid to name.