interested in your family’s stuff?”
“I can’t imagine that my family had much stuff. That’s why they had to leave. They were broke, the Dust Bowl and all.”
He waved his hand, dismissing everything she knew of her family’s history. “No, not those people. I’m talking about the ones on the riverboat. We probably won’t be able to identify the owners of most of the personal belongings, but the Laniers had so much more money than anyone else. If we find rich-people stuff, it was probably theirs.”
“Whose? What are you talking about? There were Laniers on the riverboat?”
He drew back. “You didn’t know that?”
“No.” Tess had never heard anything about this. The banks taking away the farms, she knew about that. Her grandparents each having had an uncle killed in World War I, she had heard about them. ButLaniers being on the riverboat? Her family ties to Kansas were even stronger than she had realized.
“Their names were Louis and Eveline,” Ned was saying. “He was the younger son of a reasonably important New Orleans family. They had a seventeen-year-old daughter named Marie with them, and Eveline was pregnant. Six months after the wreck, Herbert was born. He was the one who built the Lanier Building.”
Tess wondered if Nina Lane had known this. Of course she had. Everyone said she had been obsessed by the riverboat.
So why hadn’t Tess’s grandparents told her?
Grandpa, you told me the story of every
Gunsmoke
episode. Why didn’t you tell me our own story?
Were you afraid that I would become obsessed too?
“Apparently they were going to spend the summer in the St. Louis area,” Ned continued. “I don’t know what made them decide to go West, and I doubt that we’ll find out. No paper on board—no books, diaries, or correspondence—will have survived. But the Laniers certainly were luckier than everyone else. The boat sank in less than five minutes. People only had what they had on their backs, but Eveline Lanier had three hundred dollars in gold coins sewn into the hem of her petticoat.”
“Three hundred dollars … that was a lot then, wasn’t it?” Tess had never heard of any Laniers having money.
“It certainly was. It was more than enough to have gotten them back to New Orleans, but they stayed on and used the money to build a decent house and get a sawmill started. Years later she wrote an account ofthe wreck. I suppose you haven’t read it or you’d have known about your family. But I’ll make a copy of it for you.”
“That would be nice.” This was all so surprising. “I would like to read it.”
“Don’t be so sure,” he said bluntly. “It’s so full of high-minded, insincere, Victorian moralizing that you want to choke her, and she’s an incredible snob, even though she keeps claiming that she isn’t. Have you seen the Lanier Building yet?”
“That was my next stop. Will it be easy to find?”
“Yes. I’m heading into town, so will you let me show it to you? Can I give you a ride, or would you like to follow me in your car?”
“I’ll take my car.”
The road in front of the schoolhouse wasn’t paved, and small clouds of dust rose from his rear wheels, but in a moment they were on the county blacktop and then, after another two miles, they were in town.
Main Street ran perpendicular to the river. The street was wide, with angled parking on either side. The new Beaux Arts-style wrought-iron streetlights that Tess had read about on the town’s Web site gave the commercial district a slightly Parisian air.
The left signal light on the rear of Ned’s pickup flicked on in the middle of the last block; he was obviously about to turn into a parking space. Tess did likewise.
“I guess I should have warned you,” he said after they got out of their vehicles. “The place is a little run-down.”
That was not an exaggeration. Tess looked up at the building that one of her ancestors had built andnamed after himself. Made of rough-hewn
C. J. Cherryh
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