“Peri, you have the most ridiculous notions about marriage,” Primrose Perkins said as she shifted her berry pail from one hand to the other. “You don’t know,” her sister Periwinkle said wrinkling her nose at Prim. “You and me won’t never get to fall in love anyway. Pa’ll see to it we stay home and tend ma forever.” Primrose shook her head of dark brown hair, her blue eyes growing soft. “I don’t mind looking after Ma,” she said. “I know you’d love to have a beau, and think some fancy man is going to come whisk you
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