text: 16
  
  Over the next few days, Grit started getting ready for winter. He cut wood and brought up a large supply for the months to come, split it expertly for the kitchen stove and kept the firebox full. He plowed the garden, spread the horse manure, then plowed the manure into the soil. It would result in lots of weeds in the spring, but he could hoe those out that grew after the garden was planted. He sharpened the push plow after using it, making it ready for spring, and he did the same to the saws and axes that he planned to use that winter to get a supply of wood for the spring.
  
  He made sure there was always a fresh bucket of spring water on the porch, and when necessary he carried water for baths and for washing clothes. In addition to his own labors, he did everything possible to ease Colleen's burdens, but nothing seemed to lift the cloud of gloom that overtook Colleen at times. She did everything expected of her, but he sensed that his sweet wife was burdened, and he wasn't sure what he could do. In the silent chambers of his heart, he had a constant prayer that time would allow her to heal.
  
  That fall Grit went to work, putting in long hours so that he might have wood ready to sell come springtime. He figured that even without Paulie, he could earn maybe $3,000 next summer, which would allow him to have gracious plenty to support his little family.
  
  Throughout the fall, he did his own work and as much of Colleen's as she would permit. He thanked the good Lord each day for his remarkable strength and ability to earn his own living.
  
  In October, an Army courier coming from Yankton to Fort Randall and on to Fort Sully dropped off a letter from Paulie. Grit was working down in the woodyard when the courier came, so Colleen saved the letter, which had been written two weeks before, and they opened it together at supper time. Colleen read it aloud.
  
  Dear Grit, Colleen and Astrid,
  
  I have moved into a rooming house in Lincoln that provides me with breakfast and supper, and I've started classes at University Hall, which is just north of the town. My first class, English composition and grammar, begins at 8 a.m., so I have breakfast early and walk to the college. There are only 21 first-year students, and we have all our classes together. My other classes include Latin, mathematics, geography, American history and business studies.
  
  So far, things seem to be going well. I like all of the professors, but some more than others. My Latin teacher knows his subject well, but he's not a particularly good instructor. Even so, I'm learning a lot. Two of the first-year students are women, and they seem serious-minded and very capable.
  
  One of the women students, Mary Beth Parkins, lives in the boarding house next to mine, and we sometimes walk to University Hall together in the mornings. She's from Bellevue, a town along the Missouri River below Omaha. Her father is a merchant with stores in Bellevue and Papillion. She's learned bookkeeping by doing her father's books for the last few years.
  
  Other than that, I've made friends with several of my classmates, and I find our association to be quite pleasant. My last class ends at 2 o'clock in the afternoon, and I usually stay and study until it's time to leave for supper. In the evenings, I'm often doing compositions which satisfy the demands of Mister Emerson, our instructor in English. He requires that we have excellent handwriting and won't permit any erasures in the papers we turn in. It's a rigorous course of study, but I'm learning a lot and mostly enjoying myself. Even though it's challenging intellectually, it's a lot easier than chopping wood all day.
  
  I miss all of you. Colleen, please give little Astrid a hug for me and tell her how much I love and miss her.
  
  Love to you all,
  
  Paulie
  
  After the letter was read, Astrid sat in her chair at the end of the table, and she seemed to be in deep thought. "I miss Paulie," she said. "When does he come home?"
  
  "He'll be here for Christmas, I think," Colleen said.
  
  "But that's a long time," Astrid said.
  
  "You're right, it is," Colleen said. "Would you like to write Paulie a letter?" Astrid nodded her head. "Okay, we'll do it right after supper."
  
  It was at that moment that an idea sprang into Grit's mind. What if he moved to Lincoln where Colleen could go to college next year? Maybe the prospect of that could lift her spirits and get her to focus on a brighter future. People in Lincoln had to have wood to burn for their stoves, and he could supply that wood, or surely a hard-working man could find some way to support a family.
  
  He didn't mention anything about his idea to Colleen right away. He wanted to think about it, and he had nowhere better to think than when he was cutting firewood. He worked hard for an entire week, putting in long hours each day.
  
  "You're working so hard, you'll have to start eating more," Colleen said.
  
  "I probably need it," Grit said. "Maybe you could fix me some sandwiches for the mid-morning and mid-afternoon."
  
  "That would be no problem at all," Colleen said. "But you don't have to make up for Paulie not being here."
  
  "Not trying to, but I've been thinkin' maybe we should move toward the end of next summer," Grit said.
  
  "Move where?" Colleen asked, alarm evident on her face.
  
  "Well, I was thinkin' they got a lotta trees in Canada, and we could make some money up there," Grit said, a small smile on his lips.
  
  "Ah, you're pullin' my leg," Colleen said.
  
  "Yeah, I am," he said. "How about moving to Lincoln, Nebraska, so that you could go to college."
  
  "Me? Go to college? And who'll take care of Astrid?"
  
  "We could find somebody to keep her during the day," he said, "but if you don't want to, I'll quit thinkin' about it."
  
  "Well, it's a novel idea," she said, "and you've just sprung it on me. Give me a chance to think about it."
  
  "Take as long as you want," Grit said. "We don't have to do it, you know, but I can cut Nebraska wood as good as Dakota wood. I'm sure I could make a living for us down there."
  
  "Okay," Colleen said. "How long have you been thinking about this?"
  
  "Oh, been in the back of my mind for a while," he said. "Been in the front of my mind for a coupla weeks."
  
  "Why didn't you tell me before now?"
  
  "I wanted to be sure it was something I was willing to do."
  
  "And why are you willing to do it?"
  
  He smiled at her. "Because I think you want it, and I want you to have it."
  
  "Want what?"
  
  "To go to college," he said. "Don't you?"
  
  "I can't deny it," he said.
  
  "Then you should think about it," Grit said.
  
  Grit went back to work the following day with sandwiches to eat morning and afternoon. He'd been laboring so hard and so long that he was losing weight. He'd had to pull his belt in two notches to hold up his pants, and his shirt was fitting loosely on his frame.
  
  With the sandwiches he found he was able to work longer and do more without getting tired. When he came in a few days later, he saw a change in Colleen. She was happier and the burden seemed to have been lifted. At first, Grit thought it might be his imagination, but the new Colleen continued all that week. On Friday, after a full day of labor and after eating a huge dinner, he asked, "So, have you done any thinking about us moving?"
  
  "I have, and I think it's a marvelous idea," she said. "Maybe I can go to school, but even if I don't, it would be nice to live in a town where I could have female friends, and we could have some stores closer. I think it would much improve our lives if we lived in a community, so to speak."
  
  "Alright, then it's settled," he said. "We'll be moving late next summer."
  
  That night, after they'd both had a bath, Colleen snuggled up to Grit and began to kiss him. It was the first time it had happened since she'd been kidnapped. They'd had sex a few times, and she'd professed to enjoy it, but that night was different. She was her old self, initiating sex and letting him know she wanted him urgently.
  
  The next morning, Grit said, "Okay, let's you and I and Astrid take a trip."
  
  "To where?" she asked.
  
  "To Lincoln," he said. "I'd like to check out the possibilities of having my own business and of supporting the family. Meanwhile, you could look over the town, see Paulie, and see about getting into the university."
  
  She turned from the stove and said, "You're just full of good ideas, aren't you? I'll get everything ready. When can we leave?"
  
  "In the morning."