Free Griffith Tavern (Taryn's Camera Book 2) by Rebecca Patrick-Howard Page A

added.
    “Permelia,” Taryn affirmed, remembering the shadowy figure in her pictures. “She must have done a good job to keep it going.”
    “I have a little bit of a crush on her,” Daniel admitted as he rose to his feet. “She’s kind of my historical girlfriend. You know, like a book girlfriend? Some of the stories I heard…well, she was interesting.”
    “How so?”
    “Most people say she was quiet. Liked to sit out on the front porch and read in the evenings. I dig that. But also that she ran to anyone who was hurt or sick and fixed them right up. Never complained. That she was a serious businesswoman and even the men around here respected her. But that she gave the best parties and was always ready to dance and laugh and keep the beer flowing.”
    Taryn laughed. “Sounds like my kind of woman!”
    “Mine too,” Daniel smiled.
    They shared a moment of silence, both staring at the tavern and thinking their own thoughts, until finally Daniel broke the quietness by fishing for his car keys. “I guess I need to go back home. I have a paper due. I’m taking this course in museum studies this summer. Once it’s finished I just need to wrap up my dissertation and I’m done.”
    “What’s your dissertation on?” Taryn asked. She remembered her college days, how eager she’d been to get out. Looking back, she wished she’d tried harder to enjoy it more while she was there.
    “You know the Shakers, the religious group?”
    Taryn nodded.
    “Whether or not they achieved religious experience through, well, actual religion or through psychological manipulation brought on by segregation, fatigue, and personal affliction.”
    “Damn,” Taryn whistled. “And what do you think?”
    Daniel smiled and scratched at his beard. “I think if you get me up at the crack of dawn every day, make me work hard, separate me from my wife and kids, tell me I’m not allowed to have fun or do any of the things I enjoy anymore and then throw me in a building at night and say it’s okay to scream and shout–I’m probably going to feel some kind of release.”
    “Good point. I always liked the Shakers, though,” Taryn mused. “Very organized souls with their chairs hanging on their walls and minimalism.”
    “And they did give us the modern day broom,” Daniel added with a laugh.
     
     

     
     
    T aryn spent the rest of the afternoon in a painting frenzy, catching up on the lost time she’d spent talking to Daniel. She liked Daniel and missed his company; she felt a nice, easy kinship with him and was sorry about his grant. He was still young, naïve, and hopeful. He’d lose some of that along the way, especially with his field, but she hoped he held onto those qualities as long as he could. He’d need them; the field needed them.
    Taryn took a walk at the end of the day, after she’d wrapped everything up and stored it in her car. The traffic on the road behind her was light now and only a few cars lumbered by.
    The early evening light hit the bricks, causing the tavern to light up against the darkening sky and giving them a rosy glow.  It was a lonely spot, despite its close proximity to town and its position on the road.
    One thing was for sure–when they put in the new interstate exit things would pick up around here traffic-wise. Especially , she thought grimly, if they threw in a few big box stores and a multiplex . Not that she, herself, was above a little retail therapy but it seemed unfair that in order to have great shopping they had to destroy all the fields and farmlands. Taryn would’ve been perfectly content to go back to even the way things were when she was a kid and there were still big department stores on Main Street. Sure, you might have to go to a few different places to find what you wanted and her grandmother had grumbled more than once about having to drive into Nashville for a dress, but there was adventure in it. Now, everyone just seemed to move through these big stores with dead eyes,