“If the army buys the Magruders’ cheap food, the navy will follow. The navy has always been the poor stepchild in Washington and will follow the army’s lead. Unless we scuttle this entire contract, the Magruders will grow fat on this military deal.”

Until Annabelle came to Washington, she’d never seen an army officer. Even here in Washington, most people worked in an office, a school, or a shop. For every man in uniform, this country had a thousand who wore civilian clothes. Why were they only concentrating on the military?

“I don’t think you’re aiming high enough,” she said, drawing an arched brow from Caroline. “I’m sure the military contract is important, but it’s small potatoes when compared to the millions of ordinary people in this country. If something looks and tastes like maple syrup but is less expensive than the real thing, plenty of people will gladly buy it. My mother certainly would.”

“What do you recommend?” Gray asked.

Annabelle paused and called up her mother’s image. Maude Larkin was so thrifty that after frying bacon, she rinsed the pan with a cup of water and saved it to make gravy. She tossed egg shells to the hogs so the residue inside the shells wouldn’t go to waste. Frankly, Maude wouldn’t care if coffee was cut with chicory or if applesauce was fake. If it was cheaper, Maude Larkin would buy it, and so would most of the hardworking families she knew.

Thrifty people weren’t ignorant or uncaring. Nobody knew the value of a dollar better than people who had to sweat for every penny, so what would make Maude Larkin and the millions of people like her turn their back on artificial maple syrup if it tasted good?

The answer came to her quickly.

“Nobody likes a cheater,” she said. “If the Magruders want to sell corn syrup that’s been flavored to taste like maple syrup, let them say so. My mother will still buy it. But if she thought they were cheating? Tricking ordinary people out of their hard-earned money? She’ll go to war to stop them in their tracks.”

Caroline crossed her arms in frustration. “You’ve already tried to reach those people through magazines and newspapers. It barely made a dent.” She held up the issue of Good Housekeeping. “This magazine has a quarter of a million subscribers, which sounds impressive until you realize there are seventy-six million people in the United States. How can we possibly reach them all?”

Annabelle mulled over the problem. It wasn’t in her nature to give up. Her parents had both read the Good Housekeeping article and been proud of her contribution to the magazine, but were not appalled by what the Magruders did. Food was food, and her mother cared more about the coins in her purse than the ingredients printed on the label.

Unless someone made her care.