Annabelle tried not to get her hopes up as Gray walked her toward the orchid greenhouse the following morning. This was it. She had one more day to find that orchid, and she wouldn’t let Gray distract her with spices or papayas like he had yesterday.

She studied Gray’s hands as he unlocked the door. Why would he have this greenhouse under lock and key unless he had something valuable inside? Her anticipation climbed higher as she stepped inside and into the warm, humid air. Gravel crunched beneath her feet as he led down the center aisle toward the back of the building.

“The vanilla orchids are along the southern wall. I imagine this is the one that triggered Dr. Norwood’s interest,” he said, pointing to a climbing vanilla vine that grew on a trellis propped in the corner. The stems grew in a jointed, zigzag pattern, and long green pods dangled from the stems. It was an extraordinary vine, at least thirty feet long, but she instantly recognized the waxy yellow leaves.

“It’s a Vanilla pompona,” she said, unable to mask the crushing disappointment in her tone.

“It was given to me by a monk in Mexico. They’ve been cultivating them in their monastery garden for centuries,” he said gently. “It’s rare, but not the extraordinary plant you’re looking for.”

The sympathy in his eyes made her feel even worse, but she couldn’t give up yet. “Why does Dr. Norwood think you have it?”

“Because the monks never let outsiders into their garden, and people wonder why. I only got in because my great-uncle was once a monk there, so they trusted me. Someone must have seen me leaving the monastery with the orchid and jumped to conclusions.”

Her shoulders sagged. She walked down the row of vanilla orchids, all slightly different in their nodes, root structure, and blooms. She’d wanted this too desperately to give up the search, but she recognized them all. She plopped down onto a potting bench, staring blankly at the tables brimming with orchids. All beautiful; none of them unique.

“Do you know if the progenitor of the vanilla orchid still exists?” she asked, holding her breath.

“If it does, I’ve never caught wind of it. I’ve been looking too.” His voice was kind, face tender with sympathy.

An overwhelming, strangling sense of failure crept closer. The prospect of loading Elaine onto a train back to Kansas was unbearable.

She refused to fail. God hadn’t guided her and Elaine halfway across the country to let her quit so soon. She would think of something else to please Dr. Norwood. Gray Delacroix’s collection rivaled anything in the United States, and she was the first outsider he’d allowed inside his greenhouse.

She straightened her shoulders. “Show me the rest of your plants.”