How Mrs. Claus Saved Christmas by Jeff Guinn Read Free Book Online Page B

would find something when he or she woke up. I didn’t want anyone to feel ignored. After that, I’d leave gifts in each of the other tents, in turn. So my hand was on the bread as I slipped into the closest tent, but almost instantly I recoiled in near panic, because someone very large was standing inside, and he was holding a heavy-looking club.
    Now, I had nearly been caught many times over the years by someone who hadn’t been able to get to sleep, or else I bumped into something and made a noise, but I had always been able to make a quick escape. I’d never come into a tent to find someone not only wide awake, but on his feet and armed. At least he seemed as astonished to see me as I was to see him; we both peered at each other in the darkness for several seconds, and then, since he didn’t call out a warning to anyone else, I realized he must be a thief who was cruel enough to want to rob these poor people of the very few things they had. Anger boiled up in me, and before he could swat me with his nasty club I yanked the long loaf of bread from my cloak and waved it in front of his face, though I couldn’t clearly make out his features. In the dark, I hoped he would think I had a club, too, and apparently he did, because after shaking his own club at me for a few moments he gestured for me to follow him and exited the tent through a flap on the other side.
    Here was a real dilemma. If I went with him, this hulking fellow might just hit me over the head with his club and rob me, too. But if I didn’t go, he might shout out an alarm and send all the nomads running after me, while he made his own escape in the opposite direction. Well, I was a woman, perhaps, but I still could fight if it came to that. More than once in my ten years of traveling, I’d had to defend myself with a punch or a kick. I could do it again.
    So I followed the man out of the tent and a few dozen yards beyond the nomad camp. There, in the first swell of hills, another man was waiting. That was when I knew I should turn and run, since I was outnumbered, but the second man, who was large, too, stepped forward quickly and I couldn’t get away. Showing signs of fear would only make me a more inviting victim, so I tugged the hood of my cloak tightly around my face, hoping they would not realize I was a woman.
    The man I’d followed out of the tent hissed, “You thief, why can’t you leave those poor people alone? They don’t have anything for you to steal!”
    That made me furious rather than frightened. I still couldn’t see his face clearly, but his mean words were certainly uncalled for.
    â€œDon’t accuse me,” I whispered back. “You’re the robber. Well, if the two of you want to fight, I’m ready!” I’d put my long loaf back in my robe pocket as I’d left the tent, but now I reached to pull it out again. But the second man, moving quickly for someone so large, was faster. He reached into my pocket first and pulled out bread instead of a cudgel. Then he reached back in and rummaged about a little before whispering, “There’s only food here, bread and fruit.”
    â€œWell, go ahead and steal it,” I whispered, still keeping my tone harsh and, I hoped, masculine-sounding. “Eat it while those poor people starve, and may you get bellyaches afterward, you fat fiends.”
    â€œWe’re not going to steal this food, and don’t call me fat,” whispered the first man. My eyes were adjusting to the darkness, and I could see him better. But, like me, he and the other man had the hoods of their cloaks pulled around their faces, too, so I still had no idea what they might look like. “Were you going into that tent to leave food rather than commit robbery?”
    â€œI’ve never robbed anyone,” I replied, snatching back my bread loaf and returning it to my pocket with as much dignity as I could muster given the strange