Griffith Tavern (Taryn's Camera Book 2) (16 page)

Standing up and dusting her jeans off, she gave the little door a slight push and looked back up the stairs. On the stair she’d tripped on she saw a small stick. Maybe she’d tripped on it. And the vibration had caused the door to open. She was losing her mind. There wasn’t anything paranormal here at all.

T
aryn’s phone made the “dun dun dun” of “Law and Order,” signifying a text from Matt. She’d been avoiding his calls and texts all day. Still embarrassed from her drunken phone call the night before, she still wasn’t ready to explain herself and was too uncomfortable to pretend like she hadn’t said anything at all. Matt wasn’t a drinker, except for the occasional glass of wine at supper, and he’d never known the thrill, and sometimes later mortification, of being drunk and letting your tongue run loose. Matt liked to be in control of his words and thoughts at all times. Intoxication was one of his worst fears. Taryn felt that was kind of a shame. Some of the fondest times she couldn’t remember involved alcohol.

Sinking into the bubble bath, though, and loosening up a bit after the dampness and disappointment of most of the day helped. She had to answer him back. He wouldn’t give up.

Slipping her hand out of the water, she dried it off and read what he wrote: “Me and Charlie Talkin.’”

With a laugh bubbling in her throat, she laid the phone back down on a towel and closed her eyes, trying to think of an adequate response. When all else failed, they used songs to communicate with one another. This one, by Miranda Lambert, was about a boy and girl who met at a young age and started up a puppy love. She and Matt met when they were children; she didn’t know about treating their love like fireflies but they’d certainly caught enough together. It was just another reminder that their friendship went back a long ways. It was no good to ignore it or him.

Biting her lip, she picked her phone up and typed back: “Feed Jake.”

A few seconds later, the phone rang. Before she had the chance to say anything Matt snorted, “Either you’re comparing me to a dog or you’re putting an imaginary one above me.”

“I thought you liked that song. And the video was about two guys who were friends all their lives,” she pointed out.

“You know I didn’t have cable until I was a teenager.”

“Good point,” she conceded. “But still, it’s never wrong to bring up Pirates of the Mississippi.”

“So…you drunk called me last night and now you’re too embarrassed to talk to me, right?”

Chewing on her lip she stared at the tiles on the bathroom wall. Delphina, or someone, had taken the time to hand stamp all of them with purple irises. It was pretty. Made her miss having a place she could decorate. “Yes, I guess so. Sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it. You’ve said worse.”

It was true.

“Besides,” he said, seriously for him, “I enjoyed it.”

Well,
that
was different.

“I’ll have to do it again sometime. I aim to please,” she replied cheerfully.

“So do I, Taryn. You have no idea.”

Now it was her turn to blush. Moving right along…”I was at the tavern today. Something pushed me down the stairs. Or else I tripped. It’s hard to say. I thought something pushed me at first but then I found this stick…Anyway. A door opened to this little room, but it was empty.”

“Maybe something used to be in there,” he suggested. “Maybe you were supposed to see it anyway.”

“Maybe,” she agreed. “And maybe I’ve just been watching too much ‘Criminal Minds.’ You know they show, like, twenty episodes back to back on some channels at night. It might be messing with me. When the door opened I expected to find some sadist’s lair, complete with acid vats or something.”

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t.”

“You and me both,” she snorted.

“Are you giving up on the paranormal angle?”

“Maybe,” she conceded. “I know I’m seeing Permelia. I know she’s hanging around me. But maybe there isn’t really anything for me to ‘solve.’ Maybe it’s just…I don’t know. A control thing.”

“Come again?”

“No, seriously, I’ve been thinking about this a lot,” she explained. “Maybe I think I need to solve something, need to fix something, because I don’t feel in control of what’s happening in my life. I don’t know. It made sense at the time,” she finished lamely.

“Just keep hanging in there,” Matt advised. “You’ll figure it out. You always do.”

H
e usually worked on Fridays, Jamie told her, but he was due for some time off. She felt guilty for the fact he was making accommodations for her, but she couldn’t help but feel flattered. He looked different than he had at the Frosty Freeze; then, he’d been wearing tattered jeans, a stained T-shirt, and mud-crusted work boots. Today he was wearing a red flannel shirt rolled up at the sleeves, dark pants, snakeskin cowboy boots, and a Dallas Cowboys baseball cap. He was clean shaven and his blond hair was thick and wavy. He reminded her a little bit of Cary Elwes (more “The Princess Bride” than “Saw”). He was waiting in the parking lot when she pulled up to the stables and his mouth widened in a huge smile when he saw her.

Taryn was nervous when she got out of the car and walked towards him but he instantly put her at ease as he began telling her about the stables and his history with riding. It was only the second time they’d met, but she already felt like he was an old friend.

“So when’s the last time you rode?” he asked, leading her to the horses. She liked that he got right down to business. He’d already gotten a horse ready for her, but told her she could wipe hers down and feed her when they were finished if she wanted.

“A long time,” she admitted. “I rode as a kid, took lessons. Then we later had friends with horses. When I was home for an extended period of time we’d go over and ride.” She didn’t elaborate on the “we.” It was too early in the day to bring up an ex-husband, much less a dead one. 

“Well, I give lessons and train,” he explained, gesturing to a handful of children in one of the riding rings. “I think riding a horse is a lot like riding a bike. You never really forget how.”

Her mare was a gentle Appaloosa with big eyes and a sweet disposition. After spending a few minutes stroking her and saying her hellos, Taryn mounted her, excited at the prospect of spending the day outdoors doing something besides working. Jamie was easygoing, friendly, and didn’t seem to be pushing her into anything. She could just have easily been with a girlfriend–a very good-looking male one, that is. And one with an excellent behind.

“It’s a little crowded today since the weather is nice so we won’t stick to the usual trails,” he explained as they started out of the stable. “There’s one we let the advanced riders go on, and that the staff uses. Nobody will be on it today. I thought you might enjoy something more private. It’s up to you, of course.”

He had a dazzling smile when he directed it at her. “Since I haven’t done this in a long time I think the fewer people I have the potential to trample the better.”

The path was lined with trees and dappled with sunlight. The air smelled sweet and crisp, like autumn. She’d worn a blue flannel shirt and jeans and it was just enough to keep her from feeling cold. They rode next to each other, his Tennessee Walker’s coat glossy in the sun shine. He rode very well and moved with his horse in a rhythm she might have even called sexy. Despite his big hands, height (she guessed him over six feet), and strong arms and shoulders he handled his horse with a loving gentleness. She’d seen the way Jamie’d slipped him a sugar cube and kissed him on the nose before he mounted.

“So how’s the job?” Jamie asked conversationally. “How do you like working at the tavern?”

She knew he didn’t mean the ghost and Permelia and was just inquiring about her painting. “It’s an interesting place, to say the least,” she laughed. “But I like it. I love all my jobs. I have the luxury now of being able to pick the ones that draw me the most.”

“That must be nice,” he replied. “To be able to do something you love, I mean. So…what exactly do you do?”

“Well, for all intents and purposes I’m an artist. Multi-media, actually, although most clients hire me for my painting. My photography is just for fun, just for me. I get called into places on the verge of demolition, mostly, and I do paintings of them to show what they would’ve looked like in their prime. There’s usually a lot of reconstruction in my work. I don’t paint them the way they look now; I show what they would have looked like in the past.”

He nodded in understanding. “So do you also get called in to work with architects, too, then? For renderings?”

The familiar ache pulled at her as she thought of Andrew, the architect. That’s exactly what the two of them did together–he made the plans and came up with the ideas and she drew them. “Not so much anymore, although that is basically what I’m doing with this job.”

“Word around town is those kids are trying to get the money to buy it,” he said as he steered her deeper into the woods. It was darker here, and quieter.

“They are. But they’ve hit a few roadblocks. One of their grants was denied. They’ve had trouble raising money.” She felt a little disloyal revealing their financial problems, even though they weren’t top secret.

“I know the owner. He’s pretty hard up for cash. He’s a nice guy, but worried. I know he wants to sell,” Jamie offered.

“Yes, but he wants to sell sooner than they’ll be able to buy, I’m afraid,” Taryn said with regret. “I hate to see the place torn down.”

“Me too,” Jamie agreed. “I’m into those old buildings. You know–houses, barns…old stores. Sometimes I like to go out for aimless drives and take pictures of them when the weather’s nice.”

“You do?” Taryn beamed with pleasure. “That’s one of my favorite things to do. It’s how I got started, actually.”

“I belong to a few online groups,” Jamie grinned. “Urban exploring. A few Facebook groups. You know, Deserted Places, Abandoned Places, sites like that. We upload pictures and talk about them.”

“I belong to a few myself. I may have commented on some of your pictures and didn’t know it,” Taryn laughed.

They continued to ride on in companionable silence. Taryn was enjoying herself much more than she’d expected. It was easy being out with him; she was comfortable in her skin. That rarely happened with new people, it generally took her awhile to warm up, but with Jamie she didn’t find herself measuring what she said or how she said it. The pressure of being on a date wore off, probably because he wasn’t treating it like one. She was grateful for that. 

When they neared a small creek Jamie led the horses to a thick oak tree and swung out of his saddle with ease. He first tied up his horse and then helped her down by grabbing her around the waist and swinging her to the ground in one fluid movement. Her heart fluttered a little and she blushed, hoping he didn’t notice.

“I brought a snack,” he explained, producing a battered knapsack decorated with sew-on patches of state parks. “It’s not exactly a lunch, but it will boost our energy. I hope you like sandwiches, cookies, and apple juice.”

The apple juice charmed her. “Never met a cookie I didn’t like,” she said. “Well, except ones with raisins. Not because I don’t like raisins, but because I always think they’re going to be chocolate chip.”

“And then you’re disappointed when you bite into them?” he questioned knowingly. She nodded. “I get that. No raisins here. Just good old chocolate chip and white chocolate macadamia nut.”

For the next half hour they lounged by the creek, talking a little and enjoying one another’s company. She didn’t feel pressed to constantly keep up a conversation and apparently he didn’t either and they occasionally lapsed into easy silence. He brought out his camera a few times and took shots of the water, and of her, and that won her over even more.

“So what’s your story?” she asked after awhile. “Why aren’t you married or something? Or
are
you?”

Dusting cookie crumbs off his hands he chuckled, the tips of his ears turning a little red. “Well, to be honest, I was engaged once. That was three years ago. When it ended I never got enthused about dating again. I go out sometimes, mostly just to be social, but I prefer my own company just as much. Except with you, of course,” he added quickly.

“What happened to your engagement, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Jamie sighed and gazed at the water. She was afraid she’d put her foot in her mouth and was about to tell him not to worry about it when he began talking. “She was a sweet woman; I’d known her since high school. Wouldn’t have hurt a fly. We were very good friends as well as partners. Unfortunately, she got mixed up with some wrong people. Got into prescription pain pills at first and later meth. It’s a nasty habit; dangerous. I couldn’t stand what it was doing to her. I talked her into rehab once and she tried.” Exhaling sharply, he picked up a small stick and threw it into the water, watched it bob and float a few feet before continuing. “It wasn’t enough. Maybe I’m weak but I just couldn’t watch her tear herself apart like that. Her hair fell out, her skin…she looked like she was fifteen years older than she was. And she changed. Her personality, that is. The reminder of what she used to be compared to what she became was too much.”

“I’m sorry,” Taryn said sincerely. It sounded terrible. “And you definitely weren’t weak for not sticking it out. At the end of the day, it’s your life too. So what happened to her?”

“She eventually got herself sorted out. But it’s a lifelong process. She met someone at one of her meetings. I think she’s happy. I hope so. It happens a lot around here, though. These interstate towns, they’re getting hit hard from what I hear. Runners going between the big cities. I think it’s an epidemic. But anyway…” He shrugged and threw another stick into the water, watched it ripple. “What about you? A jealous boyfriend or husband I should know about?” he teased.

And now was when things became even less lighthearted, if that was possible. She briefly told him about Andrew. And watched while his face turned serious. “Geeze, I’m sorry Taryn. That’s awful. And he was so young.”

“I worked with him, too,” she explained. “He was an architect. We met on a job. We did a lot of jobs together after we started dating. Almost exclusively worked together once we got married. It was more than just losing my husband and best friend; I lost my business partner, too.”

“You’re so young to have been through that,” he said sadly, handing her a cookie. “Cookie?”

She smiled and accepted it. “It feels like a lifetime ago. And yesterday.”

A little while later they untied their horses and began their journey back to the stables. It was late afternoon and the crowd had picked up.

After wiping down her horse she waited for Jamie while he put everything away and washed off. She watched from a distance as others approached him, shook his hand, slapped him on the back, spoke to him. He was well-liked, she could tell.

He walked her back to the parking lot, his hands stuffed in his pockets. “Listen, I had a great time today,” he began before they reached her car. “If it’s okay, I’d like to do this again. Maybe not riding, of course, although we can do that if you want.”

“I’d like to see you again, too,” she agreed. “I could use a friend. I’ll be in town a few more weeks. I’m staying at the B&B.” She gave him her cell number.

When they reached her car door, he opened it for her. Before she got in, he laid his hand on her shoulder. “I wanted to tell you I don’t normally try to schedule the second date before I’m off the first one,” he said shyly. Now, at the end of the day, she liked the fact he was thinking of their time as a “date.” “I’m just afraid someone else might snatch you up so I feel like I should jump in here fast.”

Taryn flushed with pleasure and bit her lip in shyness. Up close, he was incredibly handsome. His eyes were a piercing blue with just the faintest hint of brown around them. Even though he’d been riding all day, he smelled fresh and rustic, like a tree. Manly. “I think that sounds nice. Just call me, okay?”

He leaned over and quickly kissed her on the cheek, something she found delightful. She appreciated the fact he wasn’t trying to move in on her or do anything too quickly. As she drove away, he stood in place and watched her, throwing up his hand in a wave.