Lesia's Dream Read Free

We’ll live rich We’ll live free!”
    Mama looked doubtful. Gently, Papa reassured her. “There will be time to get used to the idea, Ahafia. It will be many months before we have enough money to travel.”
    Lesia and Ivan exchanged glances. Papa was wrong.

Chapter Two
    It was dark when Lesia rose from the narrow bed she shared with Sonia. Tiptoeing past Ivan and Baba, she let herself outside and raced up the hill. She and Ivan had talked late into the night, and they had both reached the same uneasy conclusion. If Lesia didn’t succeed at their plan, Canada would be lost forever.
    Though it was early, the older villagers were already trickling into the landowner’s manor. As one of the younger servants, Lesia was supposed to wait outside in the cold for her list of chores. But today she moved swiftly through the kitchen, making sure to hide from Kasia, the kitchen boss, who liked to lord it over the poor peasants. Lucky for her, the heavy-set woman was barking out orders and didn’t see Lesia slip past.
    Down the hall she went, stopping at the landowner’s ornate wooden door. It was closed. Jan Stryk was an early riser, and he often put in several hours of work before breakfast. She hoped he was at his desk today.
    She raised her fist and knocked.
    â€œYes?”
    Answering would have been the proper thing to do, but there was nothing proper about any of this. Instead she turned the handle, pushed the door open and walked bravely into his study.
    Master Stryk was bent over his red ledger book. A small lamp with a white shade cast thin shadows onto the wall behind him. “Yes?” he repeated impatiently, continuing to write.
    Lesia’s heart raced. Papa would be furious if he knew what she was about to ask. But if Master Stryk said yes, there would be little Papa could do.
    Jan Stryk looked up. His rheumy old eyes softened. “Lesia Magus.” A smile crept across his wrinkled face. “Come in.”
    She bowed low in front of him. “Glory to God.” Her voice trembled as she said the familiar, comforting words. She reached for his leathery hand and kissed it.
    â€œWhat can I do for you, child?” Jan Stryk’s chair squeaked as he leaned back and studied her. Othermembers of the Polish nobility ruled through harshness and intimidation. Not Master Stryk. His very kindness was one of the reasons her father had insisted they stay behind in Shuparka. And the landowner’s generosity was legend.
    â€œSir, I… we … my family… we have decided to follow the others and go to Canada.” She licked her dry lips.
    â€œYou’re tired of working my land?”
    She started to shake her head but stopped. She
was
tired of working his land. She wanted to work her own. “In Canada, there’s plenty of land to go around,” she said. “There’s wood … and plenty of food.”
    â€œSo I’ve heard.”
    He wasn’t making this easy for her. “I… we—”
    â€œLet me guess,” Master Stryk said dryly, “you want me to buy your three morgens of land.”
    â€œNo. I mean, yes. But that’s something Papa will have to discuss with you.”
    Master Stryk looked confused. “Then why are you here?”
    She took a deep breath. “Selling our land won’t give us enough money to go.”
    A ghost of a smile flitted across the old man’s face. “Why hasn’t your father approached me about this?”
    â€œMy father is a cautious man. He doesn’t like loans.”
    â€œDoes he know you’re here?”
    â€œNo.” Heat prickled her cheeks. “This isn’t something I ask easily or lightly,” she said in a rush. “We have some money. But not enough for all of us.”
    â€œHow much more do you need?”
    â€œOne hundred rynskys.” Her voice trembled.
    â€œAh,” Master Stryk said again. He leaned forward. “What guarantee