“Yes, Otis,” Gray asserted. “Dad and I have always depended on Otis, and he’s never let us down.”
Otis entered their household as a twelve-year-old orphan his father had found in New Orleans, the son of a formerly enslaved woman who worked as a cook for Dominican friars. After his mother died, the Dominicans still provided Otis with an excellent education. He was fluent in Spanish and French, and their father had hired him on the spot. Over the years, Otis had learned Morse code to handle communication between Nicholas and Gray as he traveled. Otis was paid a respectable wage and was fiercely loyal to Delacroix Global Spice. As their chief assistant, Otis knew everything about their business dealings and was one of the few people Gray trusted without reserve.
“You inherited a third of the company, while Otis is merely paid a salary,” Gray said. “That’s not fair, but it was Dad’s company, and he made the call. I’m in charge now, and you need to work at least as hard as Otis.”
For the first time, Luke showed a hint of excitement. “I know that. And look, I’ve already got a plan. I’ve written a couple of articles forThe Modern Century. I think I can make a go of it as a journalist.”
But Luke hadn’t been able to make a go of college, and over the years he’d dipped his toe into one pond after another, always flitting away when he got bored. Luke was fiercely intelligent, if he could only funnel that drive into something besides dangerous, risky, and self-destructive behavior.
“Go to Cuba and finalize some contracts for new spice fields. I know you’ve already been there. Caroline says you started importing cigars while I was gone.”
A reckless smile lit Luke’s face. “Amoroso Rosa,” he said. “The best cigars are from Cuba, and I turned a pretty penny on those deals. I’ve got more lined up.”
“Good. Then go back to Cuba and finalize some spice contracts while you’re down there.”
“No deal.” Luke shook his head. “Look, I can’t talk about it, but I’m in the middle of something big. Something important. And I’d be a disaster in business; you know what happened last time.”
The catastrophe that happened four years ago wasn’t Luke’s fault, but it still seemed to haunt him. “You need to put that in your past.” Gray softened his voice. “Don’t let it cripple you. There is a saying in Japan for people who get knocked off course: If you fall seven times; stand up eight. That’s what I need you to do.”
Luke shot to his feet. “Forget it, Gray. We’re rich enough. We don’t need to move into Caribbean spices or peppers or anything else you’ve got up your sleeve. Why can’t you just be happy? Why do you have to keep pushing and striving and draining all the joy out of life?”
He stormed out of the study, slamming the door hard enough for the spice map to drop off its hook.
Gray sighed as he stood and wandered over to the map. That woman from the Smithsonian had more self-directed drive in her little finger than Luke had in his entire body. What was her name?
Annabelle Larkin.
Such a prim name for a woman whose entire persona crackled with determination. When his letters bluntly refused her access to his plant collection, she had shown up in person to make her case. That took grit, and he respected her for it.
Yet even with her he hadn’t yielded an inch. Luke had a point. Theywererich enough, but where business was concerned, it wasn’t in Gray’s nature to do anything but plow forward with all engines stoked on high. He never yielded. Never softened. He knocked competitors out of the way in a relentless quest to be the first, the fastest, the biggest, and the best.
He hung the map back on its hook, smiling a little at the whimsical figures harvesting cloves and nutmeg. His days of exploring the world for more spice fields was at an end. Now that Dad was gone, someone needed to be in Virginia to helm the business.
Besides, he was tired. He wanted a family of his own. He didn’t feel comfortable in Virginia any more than he belonged in Africa or Asia or the Caribbean, but he had just turned forty and wanted to settle down.
His analytical mind clicked into gear. He’d never considered a serious courtship before because his life was spent overseas, but if Virginia was going to be his permanent home, that needed to change, and he immediately thought of Annabelle. He had been attracted to her from the moment she walked into his office with that charmingly ridiculous map. Her smile could light up an entire room with fresh-spun wholesomeness. Her curiosity about his vanilla plants wasn’t feigned any more than his interest in her world of farming in Kansas. She’d been smart and funny and curious.
And yet he’d pushed her away because he was determined not to budge, especially where business was concerned. It was simply the way he had operated all his adult life. But like any good businessman, he could adjust his sails and shift course to get what he wanted.
First he had to make amends for his blunt treatment of her requests. It wouldn’t be hard, for he already knew exactly what she wanted: access to his greenhouses. The greenhouses were two hours away by boat, but he instinctively knew she’d agree to come, and that brought a smile to his face.
He wouldn’t hand her the keys to his kingdom; he wasn’tthatirrational. But he could crack open the door and see what happened. Frankly, he was eager to see where this might lead.
Four
A newly delivered crate of moss and lichen samples from Australia awaited Annabelle at the Smithsonian, along with the surprise of a letter from Gray Delacroix. She yanked the letter from its envelope, and her jaw dropped as she read his stunning offer. Unlike countless botanists before her, he had invited her to explore his botanical collections. And contrary to popular belief, he had not one butfourgreenhouses hidden away at his remote property in Fairfax County. One held tropical plants, one herbs and spices, a third tailored to simulate a desert environment, and an entire greenhouse with nothing but orchids. Orchids! Those secretive greenhouses contained the living samples Gray Delacroix had collected during two decades of traveling the world, and he had invited her to see them all this weekend.
His letter went on to explain that weekends were the only time he was free of “infernal business meetings” to show her the greenhouses properly. Given the distance to travel, he recommended she stay at the farmhouse located on the property so she could use the entire weekend to explore.
She wanted to see that rare collection so badly her teeth ached, but how could she leave Elaine? Her sister panicked at being left alone for an hour, let alone an entire weekend. AndElaine would never agree to come, for as the letter explained, getting to the greenhouses would involve river travel, and Elaine was terrified of water. She had never learned to swim, which had always made her leery of water, but last winter she’d gotten lost while fetching wood for the stove. Her markers were buried in snow, and she wandered onto the frozen pond, falling through the ice and nearly drowning. She’d been terrified of water ever since.
Which meant Annabelle would go on her own, and Elaine would have to stay by herself for the weekend.
Annabelle braced for the difficult conversation as she prepared dinner in their tiny two-room apartment that evening. She cooked beef in a skillet while Elaine cleaned strawberries at the washstand and talked about her volunteer work at the library’s reading room for the blind. Her first student was a young soldier who had been blinded in the Spanish-American War.
“Harry came back again today, but only because his wife dragged him in,” Elaine said. “He’s memorized the braille cells, but his wife says he refuses to practice at home. All he does in the evenings is shuffle playing cards. Martha says he does it for hours and hours, and the sound of those shuffling cards is like acid to her. She hears it in her dreams.”
Annabelle said nothing as she nudged the beef around the skillet along with some carrots and onions. It was common for depression to cripple a person suddenly afflicted with blindness. It had happened to Elaine. Their entire family had watched a beautiful, curious young woman sink into despondency after illness struck her blind three years earlier.
