Forbidden Love

Chapter Seven

Father Mulcahy hurried through the compound. It had been almost three months since his talk with Colonel Potter. Now the colonel had sent for him. Klinger's exact words were "I don't know what he wants to see you about, but he is in his tent waiting. The fact the colonel wanted to meet in his tent and not the office had Francis Mulcahy wondering if the man had found Ellen or what. Of course, he wasn't about to ask Klinger if he knew.

"What if he has? What if he's found her and she's raising our child by herself? Or, if she was expecting, did she give the child up for adoption? These and a hundred other questions ran through his mind. With his mind on the colonel and the possibility he'd found Ellen, Father Mulcahy had to apologize to more than one person for bumping into them.

Once outside, Father Mulcahy took a deep breath and knocked on the door. "Come in!" The familiar voice of the colonel sounded through the door. Father Mulcahy opened it up and stepped inside. The door slammed behind him as his hand dropped to his side and his eyes widened. The woman he knew as Ellen Chapin sat on a chair in the corner of the room.

"Hello, Francis." Ellen gave him a weak, nervous smile.

"Hello." He did his best to smile back.

Colonel Potter smiled and stood up; he'd been sitting on the edge of his cot. "You two need to talk. I'll be back in an hour. No one will disturb you here." He then walked out the door leaving Father Mulcahy and Ellen to talk things out.

The minutes ticked by with neither one speaking, both unsure where to begin. Finally, Ellen spoke up. "I'm sorry, Francis. I never meant to leave you with any unanswered questions. Quite frankly, I didn't think about it. I just knew I loved you enough to accept the fact that you were, and would always be a priest; a very good one I might add. I didn't want to be the cause of destroying that."

"So you said, but," Father Mulcahy looked at her in earnest. "You left so sudden and, well, I always wondered if there was more to it. I should have asked back then…" his voice trailed off, the turmoil he felt was in his eyes.

Ellen felt horrible and wished she could do things over. She had hurt him by not being totally honest before, by letting fear rule her life. She took a deep breath and admitted she'd hidden a part of her reason for leaving from him. "I was carrying a child; however," she hurried on as a strong look of guilt appeared in his eyes, "I lost the child shortly after she was born." She heard an audible gasp from Father Mulcahy and sighed. "I guess the good Lord knew I could never willing give the child up and that you, sooner or later, would come looking for me. I figured it was his way of saying you needed to stay where you are, and I needed to move on. I'm sorry, Francis," She walked over to him and took a hold of his hands, "I know I should have told you, only I couldn't get myself to do it. I loved you too much to stand by and watch what you'd worked so hard for destroyed simply because we allowed ourselves to slip and cross lines that never should have been crossed in the first place."

Father Mulcahy, who was sick at the thought she'd had gone through nine months of carrying a child and then having to bury that baby by herself, lifted her chin up; she'd lowered her head slightly feeling rather sick about the fact that she'd hurt such a good man. "I loved you; I would have married you."

"I know that." She said as a few tears ran down her face. "And, in the long run, you would have come to resent it. You're heart is with your God and the people you serve more. I knew it and so do you. All I can do is beg you to forgive me."

"Forgive her? My mother might not be a saint father, but like I said, she was a good woman." A portion of Private Miller's words came back to him and Father Mulcahy smiled as he felt a peace which had evaded him for so long seemed to wrap itself around him, even if he knew he'd grieve the fact that he'd never seen their daughter; well not on this earthly plane. "There's nothing to forgive, Ellen. You're a wonderful woman, one that will always hold a special place in my heart." Father Mulcahy held her hands in his as he spoke, a look of admiration in his eyes.

"I don't think I'll ever stop loving you either, Francis. I do wish you the best." Ellen Chapin smiled kindly upon the man who would always hold a place in her heart, but would never again be held in her arms.

"My driver is probably waiting for me. I'm flying back to Wyoming tomorrow. I have family there." She pulled her hands out of Father's Mulcahy's and headed for the door.

"Ellen." Father Mulcahy's voice stopped her, and she turned around. "Don't be a stranger; you can always write." He smiled as she nodded and walked out the door.

Father Mulcahy waited a few moments and then walked out of the tent. Ellen was climbing in the jeep. After she was seated next to the driver, the gentleman started the jeep and drove away. As Father Mulcahy watched her drive away, he smiled wide as he whispered, "God bless you, Ellen." He then went to find Colonel Potter; he owed the man a world of thanks.

EPILOGUE

Father Mulcahy was sure the noise in the mess hall was at an all time high, as he went through the chow line and made his way to the table where Colonel Potter sat. No one else was there yet. He sat down across from the colonel.

The good colonel had been keeping an eye on Father Mulcahy over the past couple of weeks and had been elated to see more of a spring to his step and a light in his eyes that the colonel had never seen before. He was also aware that the good priest had received a letter from Ellen. That being the case, he was as curious as all get out and had to fight himself to keep from asking about it. He needn't have worried as the good priest seemed to read his mind.

"Ellen says to tell you hello and tell you that she's engaged to be married." Father Mulcahy was smiling from ear to ear as he gave Colonel Potter the news.

The colonel smiled back; he was happy to realize that he really had no cause to worry about the man named Father Francis Mulcahy anymore. Only when Hawkeye and the others joined them did the conversation turn to other things, as it should.