Free Till Death by William X. Kienzle Page A

a moment to materialize. By the time the thought became a temptation, he knew better than to start the ball rolling. That path led to disaster.
    For one thing, he was her spiritual guide. As part of that designation, he heard her confession during each visit. If they had sex—even once—it would destroy that relationship, Not only that: If they were to sin together and he absolved her, he would be automatically excommunicated—a sin reserved to the Pope for absolution. Which meant, among other things, that he would confess to a priest who would have to notify the Holy See of the sin—all the while preserving Rick’s anonymity. Absolution would be granted by a Vatican office acting in the name of the Pope. The penance demanded by Rome had been known to go as high as, “Father will cease acting as a priest and disappear.”
    All of that had flashed through Rick’s mind in the few seconds it took him to reject the very strong temptation to offer Perpetua his shower and a towel.
    As he went in a different direction, trying to convince her to keep a stiff upper lip and hang in there, he could see the tears welling in her eyes. He wasn’t reaching her despair and he knew it. He had the strongest urge to take her on his lap and just hold her. Let her cry it out.
    But that, he feared, would only return them to the shower and the towel.
    So, in effect, he did nothing. This day she had brought him a tortured soul. She took away with her a troubled mind, to go with the tortured soul.
    It had been no picnic for him either.
    He knew Perpetua as well as or better than anyone else. He liked her. He liked her a lot. It would not have taken much to move from platonic friendship to a romantic relationship.
    There had been sexual dalliances in his past. Nothing terribly serious. Inquisitive minds and responsive bodies; growing up experimenting with the opposite number.
    In the twenty-five or so years he’d been a priest he had never violated the chastity required of him. But it was getting harder rather than easier as the years passed. Deeper than the drive for sexual fulfillment was the need for companionship. He was lonely.
    Neither condition would have to last much longer if one could believe what was being written and bandied about. Almost anytime anyone mentioned the Catholic priesthood it was in reference to the priest shortage and the possibility of an optionally celibate clergy. That possibility seemed just around the corner. Eastern Uniate churches never had ruled against a married clergy. Most of their clergy were married. And their churches were in complete union with Rome.
    Then there was the latter-day phenomenon with some of the Protestant clergy, notably those of the Episcopal and Lutheran faiths. Some of their priests and ministers were requesting inclusion in the Catholic priesthood. And some were welcomed—along with their families. Someplace along the line it must occur to the Catholic Church at large that if some men from other sects are welcomed to function as priests along with their wives and children, the option should be open to everyone.
    Meanwhile men like Rick Casserly kept denying themselves the pleasure, comfort, and responsibility of married life.
    He did not think of this often. But an occasion like this, when a woman every bit as lonely as he came to him, drove the lesson home: He did not dare even hold her hand.
    The church was filling. Mass was scheduled to begin in just a few minutes.
    Soon he would have to focus on the church service. Especially his homily. He’d been at this a quarter of a century now—a long, long time. His sermon preparation was not as it once had been; he had so much experience that his sermons no longer needed the research and preparation that he’d given them in his early years.
    However, his recent conversation with Sister Perpetua had disquieted him. She had taken him unprepared and—he hated to admit it—he was confused. Had he handled her visit correctly? Both he and