Thank you, Miss Maher," he said. "They'll be there." But as the family walked away from the square, ugly voices still followed them. "I can't believe Eliza is letting savages into that school," one woman said. "My children won't sit beside Apaches," another snapped.
"This is going to end badly," an old man muttered, shaking his head. By the time they returned home that afternoon, the children were quiet. The excitement of the morning had disappeared. They sat together on the front porch, staring at the ground. Ryland stepped outside and sat beside them.
Yara came out a moment later, concern written across her face. I know today hurt, Ryland said. The children looked up. I know you heard things no child should have to hear. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees.
But I want you to remember something. Five pairs of eyes stayed on him. Sometimes people fear what they don't understand. He glanced toward the town. Most of them have never truly known an Apache family.
They've heard stories their whole lives, and plenty of those stories were probably lies. His voice softened. But you can show them who you really are. How? Kea asked quietly.
Ryland smiled. By being yourselves. He counted the words one by one. Be kind. Be smart.
Be brave. Work hard. Help people when you can. He looked at each child. Sooner or later, people will see the truth.
You're not something to fear. You're good children with good hearts. Reco frowned. "What if they never accept us?" Yara answered before Ryland could.
"Then we accept one another?" Her voice was firm and proud. "We know who we are. No one else gets to decide that for us." Ryland nodded.
"Exactly." He put an arm around the children nearest him. "We're a family. Families stand together no matter what anybody says." Daro suddenly stood.
There was fresh determination in his eyes. Then we'll prove it. He looked toward town. We'll be the best family in all of Dusty Creek. The other four jumped to their feet.