A crescent moon lit her bedroom. Shadows flitted across the wall, the source a poplar tree outside being disturbed by the breeze. Tired as she was, she hugged the blankets, rolled over, and drifted off for a scant second before Obsi’s cries intruded again. She opened her eyes once more. Resentment never made a good bedfellow to wake up to, for at this moment, she resented that dog with every muscle she reluctantly stretched. Yawning, she rose and put her feet over the side of the moss-filled mattress. Her thighs were tangled in the hem of her nightgown. When she stood, the lawn fabric floated to her stockinged feet. She grabbed her plain wrapper from the end of the bed and slipped her arms into the sleeves. As she descended the stairs, the sound of claws scratching on the kitchen door carried through the house. For the first time in six days, Obsi was making a pest of himself. It had to be because he’d seen Carrigan in the yard today. Helena wasn’t averse to dogs. In fact, the family had had one when she was a little girl.
