Chapter 23 - Romantic Fiction

Meanwhile, Francis Curry was on a mission.

He headed for the church hall, where the local women had gathered to gossip and drink tea.

Taking a cup, he inserted himself between a group of ladies seated at a table in the center of the room. "Ladies, may I join you? Since I lost my beautiful wife, I find myself sadly in need of some female companionship."

They smiled at him. Francis Curry always knew how to charm the birds from the trees.

"And what are we talking about today, ladies?"

"Nothing of great importance, Mr. Curry..."

"Francis, please."

"Francis. We were discussing the bake sale and wondering if we'll raise enough to buy some new hymnals."

"I'm sure you will! I stopped by to examine the entries and they all looked excellent. It's extraordinary to think that such a surfeit of talent can exist in a small town like this!"

The women preened a little at his compliment.

"I have no doubt that my dear grandson, Jed, will be stopping by as well, with his new friend, Han Heyes."

The mood of the room shifted slightly. He could sense a definite chill in the air. Innocently, he asked, "Have you met the Heyes boy?"

He could almost feel the ice of the response. "No, we have not."

It was time to set the bait. "Such a tragic story, though, don't you think?"

They exchanged glances.

"Tragic?" parroted one of the old maids. If there was a story here, they wanted to know it.

"Yes, indeed. Just like a romantic novel. It just about broke my heart when I heard it!"

He could see that he had them now.

In a slightly warmer tone, one of the women pulled her chair a little closer and a few of her cohorts followed suit. "I'm afraid we don't know the child's full history."

Francis raised his eyebrows. "Do you not? Ah, well it's a sad, sad story…"

By the time he'd finished, there wasn't a dry eye in the house.

Han began to notice something very strange. All the old women at the festival were smiling at him and dabbing their eyes.

Jed watched them curiously. "What's goin' on Han?"

Han shook his head. "I have no idea!"

Maggie was accosted a little later by one of them. "Oh, my dear. Your dear father-in-law - such a lovely man - was telling us about that poor tragic boy, Han. What a sad story! And to think, we had the story completely wrong!"

Maggie was curious, but far too experienced to let anything slip. "You did?"

"Indeed!" She lowered her voice, "I don't know if you were aware, but there was a rumor that the unfortunate child was … misbegotten!"

Maggie put her hand to her chest and gave a gasp. She loved to be theatrical when she could get away with it. "No!"

The other woman nodded. "Oh yes! Such a nasty rumor. That poor boy!"

Maggie tried to think of a way to find out what the other woman knew. "But now you know the truth?"

"Your father told us all about it! How his father was a missionary and fell in love with the lady when he saw her playing the Holy Mother in a Christmas play - so romantic! And how their families didn't want them to marry because he was coming to America to spread the holy word! So sad! That poor couple!"

Maggie was trying to keep her expression perfectly serious. "Indeed, yes. And then…" she trailed off, hoping the other woman would take the bait.

"Yes, so sad! To be newly married and lose your husband while he was ministering to the sick. Francis told us how she tried to nurse him back to health, just as he had tended to those poor unfortunates!"

Maggie tried not to smile and thought that Francis had really laid it on thick this time.

The other woman spotted someone in the crowd. "Oh, there's my husband! He looks as though he's ready to leave, I must go!"

She rushed away and Maggie's face broke into a broad grin. It looked like things were about to get a little easier for Han from now on.

Francis Curry was proud of the story he'd told about Han's parentage, he felt it was one of his best. Joe Heyes would have loved it.

He would have to find Han and warn him not to say anything to contradict it. He trusted the boy not to say anything before then; Han seemed to be generally closed mouthed about his parents, and most of what people believed so far was supposition. The admission that his father may have been a magician was, he thought, not something he shared with many people.

Han was good at keeping things to himself, just like the rest of the Heyes family.

Francis thought about Joe and his restless brother, Joshua. He had known Joshua only slightly. He and Joe had been only Jed's age when seventeen-year-old Joshua had taken the migrant ship to England with so many others.

He remembered Joshua as someone who was always thinking and planning. It gave him a restless air, even in relaxation, as if you could hear the thoughts whirling about in his head. He always had grand schemes and ideas, Francis could remember that. So many plans! He was going to go to England and, once he'd earned enough for his passage to America, he would make his fortune and return to Ireland in style.

They never saw or heard from him again.

Francis Curry couldn't help but think that Hannibal might really be a true Heyes. It was such an uncanny resemblance, coupled with that sharp mind and those nimble fingers of his…

Francis believed that life could be like that sometimes; that people would find their way back to where they were meant to be.

He thought of the friendship he had shared with Joe. If Joe had lived, they would have been friends forever, closer than brothers. And now he recognized the same deep, lifelong friendship between his grandson, Jed, and Hannibal Heyes; a third generation of their two families united in friendship.

It was good to know that even at his age, life could still surprise him.