The Husband Recipe by Linda Winstead Jones Read Free Book Online

like making a cake. There’s no recipe for a husband, no list of necessary ingredients.”
Lauren started a bit, jerked out of her shoe-related thoughts. Husband? Who’d said anything about a husband?
The piercing scream that followed the thought caused Lauren’s gut to turn over. She—and everyone else present—turned toward the scream, which was followed by a moment of horrifying silence.
All the children who stood by the pool were very still, for a change. Those in the water treaded in place. One child was down, there at the side of the pool near the steps. Down and completely still. The scream had been Meredith’s.
Cole broke away from the group of men and ran. Others were soon right behind him. Lauren drifted in that direction, though she was certain Cole Donovan didn’t want her help. There were more than a dozen adults present, and judging by the way he’d ignored her today, not even so much as nodding his head in her direction or waving halfheartedly or making eye contact, he’d prefer assistance from any neighbor here before he called on her. Besides, most of the adults here had children, or grandchildren, and surely they’d been through disasters like this one before. They’d know what to do. They were much better equipped than she was to help out.
And still, Lauren moved forward. There were too many people in the way, but she had to know who was down. She elbowed her way past the hefty man who’d moved into the two-story at the end of the street last year and ducked around a surly teenager dressed all in black. Her eyes soon found Hank and Meredith in the crowd, so the one who was hurt was Justin, the little one. The one who didn’t like lasagna—who didn’t like her.
Cole squatted down, examined his youngest son, then whipped off his T-shirt and pressed it against Justin’s temple. He scooped up his son and stood in one smooth motion. Blood ran down one side of the little boy’s face, in spite of the makeshift bandage, but he was conscious and talking. Lauren couldn’t hear what Justin was saying, but she noted that while he had begun to cry he was not hysterical.
His father was another matter. Cole had gone pale. The hands that held his son were shaking. Subtly, but she saw the tremble even from a distance. A couple of people tried to help, but Cole practically bit their heads off as he headed out of the yard at a fast clip, his long legs carrying him away from the party. Meredith and Hank followed. Meredith was crying, too, and she explained in a trembling voice that she’d reminded Justin not to run but he hadn’t listened. Again, someone asked if they could help and Cole said no. He barked no. They were going to the hospital for the stitches Justin obviously needed.
T. J. Smith offered to drive, but Cole shook him off with an expression that cut everyone out, that built a barrier around him and his family and left no room for intruders.
Lauren stood completely still for a moment. She didn’t need to get involved. Cole didn’t want her—or anyone else—to intrude. Justin was conscious, and head wounds did bleed a lot. The child needed stitches, but he’d be fine. He hadn’t lost consciousness, which was a good sign. Right? That was all true, but dammit, there was no way she could let Cole get in the car and drive, not in his condition.
She turned to Summer. “I have to go.” Lauren didn’t give her friend a chance to respond, she just turned and ran, cutting around the other side of the house and across the street to intercept Cole and his crew.
It was a simple gash, bleeding heavily but not life threatening. So why was his heart beating so hard that he couldn’t see straight? The sight of all that blood on Justin’s head and face made Cole’s stomach turn. A part of the T-shirt he’d pressed to the wound was already soaked through. He couldn’t bear it if anything happened to his son. He couldn’t live with himself if it turned out Janet was right and he was incapable of