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"Uh-huh," he said and chewed vigorously on a chunk of grapefruit.
"I thought perhaps you would like to do some horseback riding today, Leigh. I've already asked Curly to have Stormy and Thunder ready for us after lunch. How's that sound?"
I glanced at Troy's nurse and Troy. Both were occupied with other things and not listening to Tony. Then I glared at him.
"How can you even suggest such a thing?" I demanded through clenched teeth. He shrugged.
"I thought you might like it today. It should be a wonderful day for a ride. I thought you loved horseback riding."
"I do love horseback riding. That's not the point," I snapped.
"Then what is?"
"You expect me to go horseback riding with you after. . . after what happened last night?"
The nurse looked up sharply. Tony's smile faded, but he replaced it quickly with a look of confusion.
"What do you mean? What happened?"
I looked at the nurse. The maid had paused as well and turned a keen ear in our direction.
"I don't want to talk about it now," I said and drank my juice.
Tony sat back in his chair.
"Oh, well," he said. "Perhaps you'll feel better after lunch. If you do, everything will be ready. It can be only a short ride anyway, for me. I had some things turn up at the office this morning, unexpected things, and I have to go into Boston tonight."
"You can go right now for all I care," I said quickly. Tony didn't respond. He shook his head, grimaced, and went back to his paper.
What an act, I thought. Did he really expect to get away with it? I decided not to pursue it at the moment, for Troy's sake as much as my own. He was already rambling on about our walk on the beach and the things he was planning to do with the seashells we would locate together. I had to smile and be happy for him.
Tony finished his coffee and rose.
"I'll see you two out at the beach perhaps," he said. Then he excused himself and left the table. I finished my breakfast and then started out for the beach with Troy before Tony could join us.
Troy's endless happy chatter kept me from thinking dark thoughts, for every time my mind went back to the horrible events of the night before, Troy would ask me a question. He was full of
inquisitiveness this morning and his verbal energy kept me from drifting away.
"What makes the clouds move, Leigh? See," he said pointing. "That big one was over there and now it's over here. Do they have wings?"
"No," I said smiling. "It's the wind that pushes them along."
"Why doesn't the wind blow right through them?"
"I suppose it does sometimes. That's why there are small ones, pieces from bigger ones," I replied and ran my fingers through his soft hair. He swung his little pail as he walked, pounding the soft beach with determined steps.
"If I were up there, would the wind push me, too?"
"If you were light enough to float, it would," I said. "And would it break me into pieces like a cloud?"
"Only if you were made of air. What makes you think of such things?" I asked, wondering what sort of dreams he had. He shrugged.
"Tony says there are places that have winds so strong they lift people off the ground and twirl them about like clouds."
"Oh, Troy," I said, stopping and kneeling to embrace him. "Not here. You're safe here."
"The wind won't blow you away either?" he asked skeptically.
