Love Remains by Kaye Dacus Page A

muchdifferently than how she taught the students in her adjunct Tennessee History class at the community college, which was also different than the Middle Tennessee History Seminar she taught at James Robertson University. The good thing about the pre-college school group tours of the museum was that she had no homework to grade afterward.
    Dennis hadn’t been extremely happy to see her this morning. But as long as she remembered to not take deep breaths—which cut down considerably the number of coughing spells she had—everyone seemed to believe her when she told them she was feeling better. And, after spending the day yesterday with Caylor and Flannery sunning herself beside the pool at Caylor’s grandmother’s house, she really did feel better.
    Besides, the last thing she needed was to spend any time alone; no sooner had she gotten home from spending time with the girls Sunday evening and yesterday, than thoughts of Bobby filled her mind. What was he doing back in Nashville? Why had he come to Acklen Ave. when he most likely knew she would be there? What did he want from her? And could Flannery really find some good-looking hunk of a man who would deign to be seen in public with Zarah just to make Bobby jealous?
    She led the group over to the Civil War display and started talking about Tennessee’s secession, the Army of Tennessee, General John Bell Hood, and the Federal occupation of Nashville for most of the war. After the thirty seconds it took the students to look at the displays of uniforms, battle flags, ordinance, and weaponry, their attention waned. Time to pull out the big gun.
    “How many of you have ancestors who fought in the Civil War?” Zarah smiled and glanced around at the students. The three mothers with them looked at each other questioningly, then encouraged the children to raise their hands. Zarah doubted whether they actually knew or just assumed—but such an assumption for a family whose roots went back more than 150 years in this country was a safe assumption to make.
    “Three major battles took place right here in Middle Tennessee. Does anyone know what those battles are called?”
    One of the smaller children’s hands went up.
    Zarah inclined her head toward him and motioned at him with an open hand. “What’s your name?”
    “Benjamin.”
    “Hi, Benjamin. What’s the name of a Civil War battle that happened in Middle Tennessee?”
    Benjamin tapped his small forefinger against his pursed lips as if pondering the question. Then his eyes lit up and his face brightened into an aha expression. “The battle of Murfreesboro!”
    One of the older boys, obviously Benjamin’s older brother, guffawed. “You’re such a dufus. There is no such thing.”
    Even as the older boy’s mother grabbed him by the shoulder to silence him, Zarah smiled at the crestfallen Benjamin. “Actually, Benjamin is correct; there was a battle of Murfreesboro, only that isn’t the name it’s commonly called anymore.” She studied the young boy’s face, and he seemed to be following along with where she was going. “Do you know the other name of the battle, Benjamin?”
    Benjamin nodded his crew-cut little head. “The battle of Stones River.”
    In this little boy, Zarah could see herself at the same age. “Do you know why it has two different names?”
    “Because the Southerners named battles after cities, and the Yankees named them after nearby rivers or creeks.” Little Benjamin flashed a conspiratorial grin at Zarah.
    “That’s right, Benjamin.” She looked around the group. “Even to this day, some of the most famous battlefields are known by one name given to them by the North and another name given to them by the South. For example, the Battle of Bull Run is still called the Battle of Manassas by many Southerners. Now, who can name the other two Middle Tennessee battles?”
    She finally managed to coach the kids into coming up with thebattles of Nashville and Franklin. From the multiple eye