Off the Grid (Amish Safe House, Book 1) by Ruth Hartzler Page B

particular ones lasted most of a day, with a great deal of
singing and speeches and other events. People meandering around and
making scenes at the gilded caskets to show their devotion to the
deceased, others dipping their heads checking their phones when
they thought no one was paying attention.
    She had never attended a funeral in a living
room, however. It was definitely a new experience. She studied the
plain wooden box that sat in front of the fireplace. In general the
room was very plain. There were a couple wood carvings on the
mantle of the fireplace, and a vase that likely belonged to his
late wife. There were no giant wreaths or banners or other grand
gestures typically seen back in the city – there weren’t even any
flowers.
    Kate checked the grandfather clock in the
corner, trying not to cringe at the slow passage of time. She had
never realized how tedious a funeral could be. There was no
singing, no distracted whispering. In fact the whole thing was
being carried out with a great deal of quiet dignity. Everyone
listened attentively to the second minister as he spoke at great
length, his talk interjected with scriptures and lessons. There was
no eulogy, no speaking about the deceased. There were no bored
sighs, no gossiping whispers, no theatrics. It was both inspiring
and surreal at the same time.
    The room did not look all that different
from the cottage she was living in. A bit more lived in perhaps,
but it was just as barren of modern technology. The same
utilitarian homemade furniture and décor. There was nothing that
struck her as odd, save for the plain pine box sitting open in
front of course.
    So why did someone come out into Amish
territory to attack an old widowed man who kept to himself? The
attacker was hardly skilled, but he didn't strike her as a common
punk. Why in the barn? She tried to think back to the scene. There
were tools that might have been of value of course. The thug could
easily have stolen what they liked after the man went to bed. There
was no need to kill an elderly man in broad daylight. The man was
too unskilled in combat to have been in it for the kicks either. If
they were after prescriptions they would have targeted the house,
or rather, Kate thought, they would have targeted a whole other
neighborhood. Nothing about the attack added up. She could not
fathom a single motive that made sense in this situation.
    Beth gave her hand a gentle pat, jarring her
from her thoughts. She turned her head to give the woman a
reassuring smile. The woman had fretted through the morning about
her attending. She pointed out a couple times that no one would
blame Kate for staying at home after the trauma. She had been sent
to this community to rest and recover from her own ordeal in order
to let her memories return gradually, rather than risk an
overwhelming rush should she encounter the right trigger.
    The woman gave a gentle yet stern smile, and
inclined her head toward the minister. Kate felt her face color as
she realized that, as still and composed as the group was, that her
distracted thoughts were apparent.
    It was amazing how well the people here
could communicate without speaking a word at times. It was a bit
refreshing, compared to the endless chatter and emails and text
messages people used to get their points across back home. She gave
an apologetic smile and turned her eyes back on the minister.
    It took an hour and a half for the ministers
to give their talk. Once the ministers had finished speaking, the
group as a whole made their way to the buggies.
    “Why don't you go and rest, dear?” Beth said
in a gentle tone as they walked to the buggy. “We can take you home
first. There's no need to push yourself.”
    “I'll be fine,” Kate assured her as she
walked beside them. She had made an error in judgment in thinking a
criminal would have been able to go to the service at the house. It
had been too private and intimate an affair compared to a non Amish
funeral. However, the