True Believer by Nicholas Sparks Page B

television in front of him. The picture was fuzzy, with vertical lines passing through the screen every couple of seconds, making it nearly impossible to see what was on.
The man rose from behind the desk and kept on rising until he towered over Jeremy. He had to be at least seven feet tall, and his shoulders were broader than the ones on the stuffed bear in the corner. Dressed in overalls and a plaid shirt, he grabbed a clipboard and set it on the desk.
He pointed to Jeremy and the clipboard. He didn’t smile; for all intents and purposes, he looked as if he wanted nothing more than to pull Jeremy’s arms from his body so he could use them to beat him, before mounting him on the wall.
Gherkin, not surprisingly, laughed. The man laughed a lot, Jeremy noticed.
“Don’t let him worry you none, Jeremy,” the mayor offered quickly. “Jed here doesn’t talk much to strangers. Just fill out the form, and you’ll be on your way to your own little room in paradise.”
Jeremy was staring wide-eyed at Jed, thinking the man was the scariest-looking person he’d ever seen in his life.
“Not only does he own Greenleaf and serve on the town council, but he’s the local taxidermist,” Gherkin went on. “Isn’t his work incredible?”
“Incredible,” Jeremy said, forcing a smile.
“You shoot anything around here, you come to Jed. He’ll do you right.”
“I’ll try to remember that.”
The mayor suddenly brightened. “You hunt, do ya?”
“Not too much, to be honest.”
“Well, maybe we’ll change that while you’re down here. I mentioned that the duck hunting here is spectacular, didn’t I?”
As Gherkin spoke, Jed tapped his massive finger on the clipboard again.
“Now, don’t try to intimidate the fellow,” Mayor Gherkin broke in. “He’s from New York. He’s a big-city journalist, so you treat him right.”
Mayor Gherkin turned his attention to Jeremy again. “And, Jeremy, just so you know, the town will be happy to pay for your accommodations here.”
“That’s not necessary . . .”
“Not another word,” he said, waiving the rebuff off. “The decision’s already been made by the higher-ups.” He winked. “That’s me, by the way. But it’s the least we can do for such a distinguished guest.”
“Well, thank you.”
Jeremy reached for the pen. He began to fill out the registration form, feeling Jed’s eyes on him and afraid of what would happen if he changed his mind about staying. Gherkin leaned over his shoulder.
“Did I mention how thrilled we are to have you in town?”
Across town, in a blue-shuttered white bungalow on a quiet street, Doris was sautéing bacon, onions, and garlic as a pot of pasta boiled on a nearby burner. Lexie was dicing tomatoes and carrots over the sink, rinsing as she went along. After finishing at the library, she’d swung by Doris’s, as she normally did a few times a week. Though she had her own house nearby, she often had dinner at her grandmother’s. Old habits die hard, and all that.
On the windowsill, the radio played jazz, and aside from the perfunctory conversation typical of family members, neither had said much at all. For Doris, the reason was her long day at work. Ever since a heart attack two years ago, she tired more easily, even if she didn’t want to admit it. For Lexie, the reason was Jeremy Marsh, though she knew enough not to say anything to Doris about it. Doris had always taken an acute interest in her personal life, and Lexie had learned that it was best to avoid the topic whenever possible.
Lexie knew her grandmother meant no harm. Doris simply didn’t understand why someone in her thirties hadn’t settled down yet, and she’d reached the point where she frequently wondered aloud why Lexie wasn’t married. As sharp as she was, Doris was from the old school; she married at twenty and had spent the next forty-four years with a man she adored, until he passed away three years ago. Lexie’s grandparents had raised her, after all, and