He didn’t know why he even bothered. The wind, which steadily grew stronger, would blow all the dust off eventually. He stuffed his arms through the sleeves, and pulled the long coat up over his shoulders. He hadn’t needed it yet for anything other than to cover up on a chilly night. He glanced up at the ominous black clouds looming ever closer in the western sky. A sudden gust of wind whipped the coat tails around his ankles like a noose tightening around his neck. This storm was moving in the direction of the emigrant camp faster than he had anticipated. And those dark clouds promised a heavy downpour. Jake was glad that Wilson had declared today as a rest day. The wagons wouldn’t be able to travel in this weather. “You’ll be all right in a prairie storm, won’t you, Princess?” He patted his mare’s shoulder, and she nickered as if in answer to his question. She craned her neck, and sniffed at his pockets. Her tail swished, and she side-stepped nervously. The horse obviously sensed the impeding weather, too.
