Deed to Damnation

Heartsick

The news came on the lumber wagon that morning. One of Henry's gang knocked heavily on the door during breakfast and handed him letters from the post office back in Solstice. Henry was not a praying man but he silently hoped that the news was good. The very first envelope was inscribed with Andrew Christel's name.
He sat at the small table and opened it eagerly.
Ireland was sullen, he noticed. She had made his breakfast but only because he ordered her to and she had refused to eat. Right now, he didn't care about what she was feeling. Whether she was mad about the open handed slap or that she felt the strap as a reminder didn't matter. In his opinion, she was damn lucky she didn't get more than that. If she wanted to lay in that bed all day like some damsel in distress, that was fine. He didn't want her out and about anyway. Making herself scarce would remedy his having to hear the men and their crude comments. It was something he was going to have to take care of until he decided when she could go back and according to the correspondence, it was going to be sooner than later. As it turned out, Andrew had come through with finding more gun runners and was having a shipment brought to Solstice. With any luck, they would be there already. The stash would be back at saloon with Brendan for safe keeping.
Ireland lay on the bed, the stuffed plaid comforter pulled over her head. She heard him get up and leave and didn't poke her head out until after she heard the door bang shut. She knew he thought she was sulking and thought her to be a brat. But it wasn't because she was sulking, in her opinion. She was still trying to come to grips with her iniquitous reaction to his treatment the night before. Getting past her wanton arousal at his touch had been hard enough but he had slapped her and then reprimanded her with his belt...again. Despite that, she climaxed like a tramp. His tramp. She always did.  And the pain hadn't made any difference. What she was feeling was shame and confusion.
Sitting up, she peeked out the window to see him discussing something with a gruff looking man who was nodding incessantly. She was always amazed at the loyalty of Henry's people despite what a bastard he could be.
As he headed back towards the house, Ireland tucked herself back into the blankets. He came in, slamming the door shut behind him.
"Time to get up, Ireland." He announced. "We've got business to discuss."
She shifted under the blanket but didn't come out.
"If I have to come over there and get you, you'll be sorry. I promise." He warned.
Ireland flipped the blankets off abruptly and sat up, glaring at him with tired eyes.
"I'm already sorry!" She quipped.
"Good." He answered. "It'll save me time reminding you to behave yourself."
"You slapped me first!" She retorted.
"Is that what this is about? You should consider yourself lucky." He snapped. "As a matter of fact, I find it aggravating that you don't even seem to notice how begrudgingly soft I am with you."
"This is soft?" She yelled.
He leveled an icy glare at her.
"Let's think back, shall we? Would you prefer to be locked naked in the root cellar this time instead of a barn? Or perhaps I'll have you wear your bit again and we can start this all over? You can cook for all those men too while we're at it." He warned. "And this time if one of them moves on you, I might not be there to save you."
When she heard it like that and reflected on all those things, she could barely believe all of that had really happened to her. There was more too. He just hadn't thought to bring up the time when he brought her naked into a room full of people. Or the time she thought he was going to pawn her off on a couple of cowboys when she was drunk and rebellious.
"And certainly one lick from my strap ain't shit." He drawled, a sly smile playing on his lips. "You took it pretty well, wouldn't you say? That little cry you gave out wasn't just from pain, was it?"
Ireland felt herself turn crimson at his taunting. How did he always know what to say to humiliate her teasingly? It was like he could read her mind.
"Well, I think I've come pretty far myself!" She snapped back. "I think I've shown my gratitude for marrying me even though it goes against everything you stand for. Apparently, you don't think so!"
He contemplated her silently. Taking a wife had never been in his life plan but he supposed it could be worse. Ireland had been an innocent and she handled his corruption of her stoically. It was true she was headstrong and dangerously naive at times but she pleased him and he had come to crave her, even bringing her with him to his nefarious dealings. He wanted her with him even though she drove him to distraction and made him second guess the man he thought he was.
"We'll see." He grumbled. "Now sit down. You're going on a mission for me. It's something I can't do myself at the moment and it's partially your fault that I can't."
Finally she relented. The conversation was making her uncomfortable anyway and she was curious to find out what exactly she had done this time.
When she sat down, her gaze was just as cold as the coffee she sipped. Henry joined her after he grabbed an envelope out of a saddlebag pouch.
"Sometime today, one of the Cheyenne will be coming to get the tributes I promised to Howling Star." He began. "He needs to know that the U.S. government is about to hamstring him and the Sioux. I'm going to tell the intermediary that I need to see him in person. There's a good chance he'll refuse, thanks to you."
"Me?" She asked, glowering at him over the rim of her tin cup.
"Yes, because of Dark Eagle and his rejected intentions towards you." He answered, curling his lip in annoyance.
Henry proceeded to tell her of what transpired the night she had the opium and married him again. She was shocked to learn of Dark Eagle's proposal and angered that Henry never disclosed any of it to her. If she knew why he didn't, it would have stunned her even more. In truth, he didn't want her to know that another man desired her in that capacity. It was petty and ridiculous as well, another reason to not be upfront about it. But he had to now.
"He was pretty fucking pissed about it. But he wouldn't have known what to do with you anyhow. Cheyenne, you are not." Henry said. "That little escapade was enough to have Howling Star keep me at a distance."
"I'm sure it had nothing to do with Little Bird." She quipped sarcastically.
"That didn't help but it was dealt with." He stated. "Anyway, I'm going to ask permission to bring you there. I'll wait outside of the village while you read him this letter."
"Why don't you just tell the man that's coming? You speak the language." She countered.
"I do but that's not information I want to share with just any common Cheyenne. This has to go directly to the chief and I don't want anything lost in translation." He told her.
Surprisingly, she didn't react negatively. She stared off for a moment, thinking about the night they spent there and the golden jewelry she was gifted after a wedding ceremony she couldn't remember. Why hadn't she noticed how much gold they all wore before? She had been much more enthralled by the people and how they lived than notice something like that, that's why. And Winter Willow had been tough but kind. She found herself looking forward to seeing her again.
"Okay. When?"
Henry looked at her suspiciously. No pushback? He figured she would definitely offer protest. She had told him in no uncertain terms that she didn't want to go back after what unfolded that one and only time.
"As soon as I hear that it's okay." He answered warily. "There's a little something else too. I'm dressing you down some before we go. Until that happens you're to stay away from the tents on the property. And watch yourself when you use the house out back. I'm not going to leave you alone at night anymore but I still want you to be careful."
"Dress me down?" She asked. "Worse than that spinster dress I've been wearing?"
He smirked.
"Why should you care? I'm sure you hate the attention. I wouldn't want Dark Eagle to get an idea." He
grumbled.
She stared at his oddly grim expression. If she didn't know better, she would have thought him jealous! That was impossible. She hadn't done a single thing to make him feel that way. Henry was too much to handle as is. And even if he didn't truly love her, she planned on being a faithful wife, grateful for another chance to save her a place in heaven.