Far over in the west a cold sun, hanging its rim on a mountain peak, bathed the world with a shimmering, glittering, blinding light.
Lawler went outside and shielding his eyes with his hands, peered out over the gleaming waste.

He noted that the snow had drifted much, but that there were ridges where no snow had settled, as well as vast sections of plain where the wind had swept the snow clear.

There would be no difficulty in reaching Willets, for the wind that was coming over the plains now was mild--almost warm.
He went inside, told Della, and began to make preparations for the ride.
And later that night, moving swiftly northward, under straggling clouds that obscured the moon, the two journeyed--Della swathed in clothing that assured her of warmth, and still preserving a sullen silence; Lawler riding ahead, breaking trail..