“And yet I’m investing a fortune in it. All I want is to be left alone to cultivate plants, strike deals, and turn a profit. But the government taxes me left, right, and center, using my money to compile research they give away to others. You aren’t the first government official to try to steal what I’ve accomplished.”

“We’re not stealing anything. We’re learning from each other.”

“Knowledge is the most valuable commodity on the face of the earth, and I won’t let the government take it for free.”

“We can both benefit from sharing information. It isn’t stealing.”

He snorted. “I know you want to see a particular vanilla orchid. In fact, I’ll bet you were sent here specifically for that purpose.”

It was true, but how could she admit that? All she or the Smithsonian wanted was the answer to a scientific mystery. They didn’t intend to steal anything from him.

“We have no plan to capitalize on your orchid. Dr. Norwood might build an altar to it and brag to all his orchid-loving friends, but we’re in the business of science, not sales.”

His face gentled. “Miss Larkin, you are so naïve,” he said softly. “You’ve got this irresistible, sunshiny quality that both fascinates and frustrates me. I don’t know what is in the water out there in Kansas, but you seem as innocent and trusting as a lone sunflower standing in a field, doomed to be pummeled to the ground in the first windstorm.”

“And you’re the complete opposite,” she said. “Like you were raised on a diet of skepticism and mistrust.”

His laughter began deep in his chest. “There’s probably some truth in that.” He shifted in his chair and pointed outside toward a small outbuilding a few acres away. “You see that shed?”

She nodded. With peeling paint and a sagging roof, the shed seemed out of place among the other well-tended buildings on the property.

“My father and I lived in that shed for three years after the war. The government burned our house, gutted the estate, seized our ships, and levied outrageous taxes on us. So, yes, to use your phrase, I have been raised on a diet of mistrust. It happened right over there in that dilapidated shed.”

He didn’t sound bitter. He sounded like he was trying to persuade her to his point of view, which would never happen. She was a patriotic American who was proud of the work the government did, and Gray was wasting time.

Her eyes traveled to the papaya tree a few yards away. “What does a papaya taste like?” she asked, and the corners of his eyes crinkled.

“Trying to divert the conversation?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough.”