Risking All for Love (Wattpadprize14)

Prologue

Rain raked the tin roof of Holy Cross Monastery as Masri banged against its door over and over. Then he cried out. "Bok! Bok! Bok!" He looked to his African companion and back to the door. "Father Connor, are you in there? I must speak with you this moment! Father, I beg you!"

Masri could hear stirring from beyond the door. "I say, Masri my friend, is that you?"

A gust of wind blew in rain as the door swung open, and a half-awake man in an off-white monk's habit stood in the doorway. "Masri, what brings you here during rainy season, and why so far from home? Are you broken down? We have spare cells for you and for your friend to sleep in tonight--if you need them."

"No, Father, something else, help me small, will you?" He looked back at his drenched companion. About that time a baby cried out.

"Masri, is that what I think it is? Come into the tea room and dry yourselves off. Then will you tell me how it is that you're here with a baby at two o'clock in the morning?"

"Thank you, father, she's what I need to talk to you about."

"Masri, you and your wife are too old to have a baby at your age!" Father looked around to see another middle-aged monk in a dull white habit entering the tea room. "Brother Kevin, can you make some tea for us?"

"Please, no tea, father," Masri said. "My friend and I do not have much time here in Bolahun, but it is too important. You gotta help me, I beg you."

"Brother Kevin, besides tea make a couple of sandwiches for our guests." He looked beyond Masri. He raised his eyebrows. "Who's your friend?"

Masri gestured to his companion while taking the crying bundle from his hands. "Father, this is Frederick Ziama, a long-time employee of mine." He then held out the baby and uncovered her. "See my problem, Father. It's not just any baby."

"Where did she come from?" Father took her into his arms as Brother Kevin returned to say he had placed a kettle on the kerosene stove for hot tea. He then went back to make sandwiches. Father Connor then turned back to Masri. "Did a Lebanese girl give birth to this child? Take her back to her family, now!"

"Father, I can't do that. I have to keep this quiet for the sake of both families: of the boy, who fathered the child and of the young girl, who bore her."

"Masri, you want me to find a home for this baby girl?"

"Yes, can you help me small more, my friend? Please? I represent both families, who cannot take the baby back to either of their countries with them."

"It's out of the question, Masri." The Lebanese man's worried look turned to near despair. Father Connor looked at Brother Kevin. "We got anything we could use for diapers?"

"We can scrounge up some things that will carry us a day or two, Father."

"There's a mother in Fangunda, who just lost her baby. I can pay her to come here maybe by mid morning tomorrow to wet nurse the baby until we can do something else."

"Masri?" Father Connor asked. "Since you're the families' representative, tell me who's going to pay to support this child?"

"Yes, father, they will both pay through me."

"What's the girl's name?"

"Father, she has no name?"

"Why, Masri? Lebanese always name their babies."

"How do you know that she has Lebanese parents? Anyway, if her family gave her a name, then someone might be able to trace this baby to them." Masri was not begging, but his open hands were screaming for help. "Name her before we go, Father."