Lonely Dove
a while it occurred to him that she had never had any anyway, but if that was so, why had she married him? “Uh-oh, here comes Peach,” Roscoe said. “Ben must have been a lunatic to marry that woman.” “According to you, all us Johnsons are lunatics,” July said, a little irritated. It was not Roscoe’s place to criticize his dead brother, though it was perfectly true that Peach was not his favorite sister-in-law. He had never known why Ben nicknamed her “Peach,” for she was large and quarrelsome and did not resemble a peach in any way. Peach was picking her way across the main street of Fort Smith, which was less of a quagmire than usual, since it had been dry lately. She was carrying a red roo