The state police detective could rationalize all he wanted, but Danny knew in his soul that the danger still centered in Huntsville. The quaint little town, with its postcard-perfect views, was the hub for something evil.

Mandy pushed the lawn mower. The smell of gasoline and fresh-cut grass filled the air around her. Happy to be outside for a change, she hummed the last song she’d heard while doing the lunch dishes.

Jed pulled into the parking area and got out of his truck. Honey jumped down from the passenger seat, raced to the house, and barked at the back door. Bill let her in and knelt to give her a hug. The dog’s tail wagged on overdrive. Mandy warmed as she watched the happy greeting. Jed stomped toward her, and her feel-good moment deflated. The huge scowl on his face didn’t hide the gauntness or dark circles. Did he sleep at night? He shouted something that Mandy couldn’t hear over the engine. She shook her head at him, hoping he’d go away. He didn’t.

With a heavy sigh, she shut off the mower. The rumbling cut off abruptly.

“I said,” Jed yelled, then lowered his voice, “why are you cutting the lawn?”

Mandy shot him an isn’t it obvious look. “Because it needs to be cut.”

“You should’ve called me.”

“Seriously?” Mandy crossed her arms. “This is hardly beyond my physical ability.”

“You have enough stuff to do.”

She couldn’t argue with that, but the inn’s lawn wasn’t that big. She and her mother had taken turns mowing it weekly for as long as Mandy could remember. Why was Jed suddenly stepping in? “Well, the grass was high after all the rain and that warm spell last week.”

“Here, I’ll take over.” Jed reached for the mower.

Like he wanted to take over everything. Mandy was tempted, but she knew Jed. If she let him do this, he’d be back tomorrow to do more work. Physically, he could barely keep up with his own place and care for his dogs. He couldn’t possibly maintain the inn as well. Mandy blocked him. “I’m halfway done. I’ll finish it up.”

“This isn’t the kind of work you should be doing,” he protested. “You aren’t cut out for manual labor.”

“Oh, really.” Mandy propped a hand on her hip. “And what should I be doing?”

Jed shifted his weight as if he knew he was about to say something wrong but just couldn’t stop himself. “You know. Woman-type work. Cooking and cleaning and stuff.”

“So, women are only good for housework?”

“Not all women. Your mom’s sturdy enough.” Jed’s gaze dropped to his work boots. “But you’re…”

Mandy tapped a boot toe on the grass. “I’m what?”

“Delicate.” Jed swallowed. “And you’re such a good cook. You belong in the kitchen.”