Read Online Windwood Farm (Taryn's Camera) by Rebecca Patrick-Howard - Free Book Online

a lot, worked hard? And what about the poor girl who had died? Taryn hoped she hadn’t suffered much. The scent of decay and death were still overpowering at times, but she was starting to think that perhaps the house was picking up on some of the tragedies it had seen over the years: first Robert’s wife and then his daughter.
    Taryn also appreciated the fact that the Stokes County Historical Society had contracted her at all. She could use the money especially since she wasn’t completely sure her car was going to hold up much longer. And the hotel wasn’t bad either; at least, not as far as hotels went. The swimming pool was actually kind of nice and the free breakfast was more than just cereal and bananas. And then, of course, there was the added bonus of it having indoor corridors— always a sign she was staying in a swanky place.
    But she wasn’t sleeping well and she was tired. Taryn’s dreams had bothered her over the past few nights; however, ever since she arrived in Vidalia (and what about that town name?). The previous night (morning) she dreamed she was falling into something dark and then awakened to the sound of crying. She was sure it had been someone else’s cries at first, but since the dream had shaken her so much, she wasn’t positive it hadn’t been her own tears that woke her up.
    And then there was the dream of being suffocated and unable to move. That was the worst one. It caused her to thrash about in her bed, as though held by ropes. She’d woken up struggling with her pillows and had slept with the TV on ever since. It might mean she was hearing used car commercials all night, but at least it offered her light and noise.
     
     
    A t the end of the day, after loading everything into the car, Taryn slipped her sandals back on and went for a walk around the property. With the boards off the door and windows, the house appeared more inviting. The stones were polished and reflected the late afternoon sunlight; the wide front porch easy to envision a swing and rocking chair on and full of guests enjoying the evening after a hard day’s work. Taryn’s appreciated talent might have been in showing the world what the past looked like, but her real talent was in imagining what the past held. Sometimes, it wasn’t always welcomed. Sometimes it even hurt.
    Staring at the contrast between the older part of the house and addition and holding her camera in her hands, Taryn felt the weight of the day on her shoulders. “Off to a good start,” she whispered. “Going well.” The house seemed to shimmer in the light, as if agreeing with her. A ripple of cool air sent chill bumps along her legs and up her arms. She continued walking, but crossed her arms over her chest.
    Behind the house, the air was lighter and it was a little easier to breathe. It was also less magical somehow. She turned on her camera again and looked at the pictures she had taken that day. They were all normal images. But the ones before them, those, well, they were the special ones. Yep , she thought, still there . She hadn’t dreamed them. I’m not going crazy .
    It was during this time of the day that she should be winding down and feeling good about what she had done, but it was usually by now when she felt the loneliest. She wasn’t due to talk to Matt tonight, although she knew she could call him and probably should, especially after what happened. The sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that had plagued her for months and months was getting better there for a while, but she imagined she would always suffer setbacks.
    When the last rays of light had fallen behind the barn , she made her way back to her car and got in. She didn’t know why people were so afraid of the house; it just seemed sad to her.
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    It had been all she could do not to hop in her car and drive back to the house in the middle of the night to take more pictures when she first saw them on her computer screen. She was giddy at