The Matchmaker Bride

by Ginny Baird

  Table of Contents

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  A Lot Like Love, by Jennifer Snow

  Forever Starts Now, by Stefanie London

  Wishing For A Cowboy, by Victoria James

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2021 by Ginny Baird. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  10940 S Parker Road

  Suite 327

  Parker, CO 80134

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Amara is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

  Edited by Heather Howland

  Cover design by Bree Archer

  Cover art by

  mochak/Depositphotos and

  Doug Hendricks/Gettyimages

  Interior design by Toni Kerr

  Print ISBN 978-1-64937-026-6

  ebook ISBN 978-1-64937-039-6

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  First Edition August 2021

  Also by Ginny Baird

  The Blue Hill Brides series

  The Duplicate Bride

  The Matchmaker Bride

  The Holiday Brides series

  The Christmas Catch

  The Holiday Bride

  Mistletoe in Maine

  Beach Blanket Santa

  The Christmas Town series

  The Christmas Cookie Shop

  A Mommy for Christmas

  Only You at Christmas

  The Doctor Orders Christmas

  A Glorious Christmas

  A Corner Church Christmas

  His Christmas Joy

  Noelle’s Best Christmas

  For John

  With special thanks to my publisher, Liz Pelletier,

  for her fantastic support and belief in this book,

  and editor, Heather Howland,

  for her amazing skill in bringing

  out the best in a story.

  The Matchmaker Bride is a sweet, small-town romance that is full of humor and heart, but there are themes that might be triggering to some readers. A past divorce and a pretend relationship are discussed in the novel. Readers who may be sensitive to these elements, please take note.

  Prologue

  This was it. Meredith Galanes’s chance to hit it big.

  She sucked in a breath, her heart pounding. If she nailed today’s television interview, she would be golden. In syndication. Yes.

  She strode onto the set trying not to let nerves take over. She could do this. Of course she could. She’d appeared on camera a hundred times.

  Only this time was different. There were important people watching—people who could make her career. Two network execs were on set and they’d be scrutinizing her every move, trying to see if Meredith had the chops to take things to the next level. Like the host of this program had been unable to do, even though she was a station darling due to her daddy’s advertising money.

  Meredith’s glam squad rushed over for last-minute primping. Joel spritzed her flyaways with hairspray and she shut her eyes, as April clipped a mic to her scoop-neck collar then attached its base to the back of her belt.

  “Don’t listen to the rumors,” April whispered.

  “Right.” Joel rolled his eyes. “Idle chatter.”

  Meredith gaped at them. “What rumors?”

  April leaned toward her, her purple-streaked hair in a ponytail. “Your syndication deal.” A conspiratorial grin tugged at her lips. “The top brass say—”

  “That you’ll never get it without having a man yourself,” Joel finished.

  April grabbed the hairbrush and smacked him with it. “You don’t know that.”

  “I’m just saying.” He frowned, smoothing Meredith’s curls with his fingers. “We know Meredith is the best, but good luck convincing the network that a single matchmaker has any business telling other people how to run their love lives.”

  Joel shot a look at the stage and Meredith’s pulse spiked when she spied the network “suits” chatting with each other.

  Okay, so she hadn’t had a date in two years. That had nothing to do with her ability to match people up. Now she just had to hope the network believed that. Hopefully, her love life wouldn’t come up in her interview today.

  Meredith swallowed hard. “Thanks, guys.”

  The producer motioned her forward. “Two minutes!”

  Meredith took the guest seat and her host, Tanya Gibbs, sat in a tall swivel chair like hers with a high table in between them. They’d each been supplied with large coffee mugs, which, unfortunately, only contained water. While she appreciated less potential for staining her clothes, a shot of caffeine would be a really big help right now. No, make that a double-shot.

  She tried to ignore the fact that the execs were here and primed herself for performing.

  Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

  The execs had already viewed tapings of her show and now wanted to see how she handled interviews, that’s all. There would be a lot of those if she got syndicated and was expected to help market her show.

  Inhale. Exhale.

  A cameraman gave a signal and then they were rolling.

  “Meredith Galanes,” Tanya said with a pasted-on grin. “Welcome to Talk Time!”

  The intros went off without a hitch with Tanya summing up Meredith’s matchmaking achievements and hinting at bigger things to come. Not that Meredith was able to focus on any of that. Her mind was stuck on those rumors. She’d been chasing this syndication deal for months now and had finally believed herself to be on the cusp of securing it. Her appearance here today was supposed to cement things. Assuming she impressed the right people. And assuming Joel’s distressingly valid opinion wasn’t shared by certain influential others.

  She scanned the crew and her gaze landed on the execs. Nooo. One of them was taking notes! Or maybe she was texting. That could be good or bad, or have nothing to do with Meredith at all.

  April waved, trying to capture Meredith’s attention. No wait. She was pointing. Joel was frantically pointing, too—at Tanya.

  “Meredith?” Tanya prodded. “Should I repeat the question?”

  Tanya Gi
bbs looked polished in her pale-peach business suit, blond hair, and spiky designer heels Meredith would die for.

  “Um…yeah. Could you?”

  “I was asking about your love life.” All around them, the studio lights gleamed brighter. No. She wouldn’t dare. “Will that be explored on your show?” She swept one hand through the air. “Boston-area love expert reveals her personal man-catching secrets?” Oh, yes she did.

  Meredith felt the blood drain from her face. Time to redirect. “That’s not how this business works,” she said, trying not to squirm in her seat. She adjusted her sunflower-print skirt, draping it over her crossed legs. “It’s not so much about the ‘catch’ as it is the match. The perfect match. And, perfect matches are hard to come by.” She winked at the camera, willing her peripheral vision not to stray to the execs. “That’s where I fit in.”

  “Sounds like the voice of experience. Do tell us about the man you’re dating? I’m sure your fans will be interested. All those social media followers, too.”

  “Ah, actually. Romance is not a top priority for me right now. I’ve been—”

  “No romance? What?” Tanya laughed like the idea was absurd, then pretended to share a confidence with the camera. “And here she claims to be all about love. An expert. Hmm.”

  This interview was going downhill fast. Meredith glanced at the shadowy side of the stage, searching for Joel or April or somebody for support, but there were only producers and even more cameras. She didn’t dare look back at the suits.

  “Well, sure I make time for romance! Of course. But, in my case, I appreciate keeping things a little…private.”

  “Private?” Tanya challenged, not backing down. “What does that mean?”

  Meredith tried not to break a sweat, envisioning cool mountain streams and waterfalls. “All it means is…” She smiled sassily at the camera. “We haven’t yet made things public.”

  Finally. That should work in throwing Tanya off, but nope. She persisted.

  “So there is a special someone.” She tapped her chin. “What’s his name?”

  Meredith bit her lip. She couldn’t—just couldn’t—admit her disastrous dating history. What would the viewing public think? And those network execs? Joel was right—Matched Up would never get that syndication deal then. Tanya would make sure of it with her little humiliation campaign. And she was so close.

  Tanya’s face fell. “No. Way. You’re not matched up at all, are you?” She forced a fake frown. “How sad. ‘Matchmaker Meredith’ has no match of her own. I wonder…do you tell your clients that you’re single? I can’t imagine that instills a lot of confidence in your…abilities.”

  Low blow. Meredith’s gut tightened. Tanya was known for skewering her guests, especially her accomplished female ones. You’d think a fellow woman would help a girl up. Not knock her down, then step on her. Especially in front of network people. Tanya acted like she was above getting fired, and maybe she was. Even though Talk Time was only local, the show attracted tons of viewers. A few more at the moment than Matched Up. But that was mostly on account of Tanya’s enormous advertising budget. “Sure I do. I have a match, my perfect match.”

  “Then give us a hint. Occupation. Location. Anything?” Meredith could practically hear the knell of a countdown clock ticking off the seconds in her brain. Her short segment was nearly up.

  Ten. Nine. Eight.

  Think, think, think. Meredith worked hard to come up with somebody. Anybody. If he was super impressive that would be amazing. Gorgeous would be a plus, too.

  Six. Five.

  Shockingly, only one gorgeous guy came to mind. One with piercing blue eyes.

  And a smirk. How could she forget that part?

  Three. Two...

  “Well, I guess we have our answer, folks. Thank you for joining us today on—”

  “He’s a boatbuilder!” Meredith blurted out.

  “Fascinating.” Tanya leaned forward. “Whereabouts?”

  “Blue…Blue Hill,” Meredith stammered. Ooh, this is going to come back to bite me. She swallowed hard. “Blue Hill, Maine.”

  Chapter One

  Derrick Albright stood on his deck watching the mid-day sun shimmer across Blue Hill Bay and enjoying the first day of his two-week staycation. His rustic cabin sat on ten awesome acres and he could sail or kayak whenever he wanted. Every once in a while, he still took out the rowboat, or his handmade canoe. The canoe had been a first-run effort when he’d built a similar model for his grandpa. Making that canoe had been his introduction to the boat school. He’d fallen in love with boatbuilding after that, and now it was his career.

  Gravel crunched in his drive. Lots of gravel, like a huge party was arriving. Derrick frowned and glanced through the sliding glass door and out the kitchen window on the far wall, spotting several vehicles. There were a bunch of SUVs, a couple of sedans, a big white van…

  What’s going on?

  He walked through his living room, his flip-flops smacking the wood floor. He wore a ratty old pair of shorts and a T-shirt, but was basically decent enough to ward off the intrusion. Unless there was some kind of weird emergency in the area, these people obviously had the wrong address. They sure were insistent. Pounding and pounding on his front door.

  He opened it and three different microphones jutted out below his chin.

  “Mr. Albright!” one reporter said. She had on a hot pink suit that was so bright it hurt his eyes. “Is it true that you’re engaged?”

  “What?” Derrick gripped the doorframe when the crowd of people pressed in.

  “Meredith,” hot pink woman said. “Meredith Galanes! Your fiancée?”

  He frowned. “What—”

  Another woman wearing thick red lipstick shoved her mic so close it nearly grazed his cheek. “Is it really a match made in heaven?”

  A what made in where? “Uh…”

  A guy in a sportscoat squeezed between his female colleagues. “Can you tell us about your relationship?”

  “Mr. Albright, when is the big day?”

  Derrick gaped at them all. He hadn’t seen Meredith Galanes since his brother’s wedding disaster last summer, and he was glad for it.

  “Is she here?” sportscoat guy prodded.

  If a bunch of cameras shoved in his face wasn’t so overwhelming, he might have laughed. Like he’d ever let that woman into his home. This cabin was his respite, and Meredith, with her snippy attitude, sky-high heels, and irritatingly inviting lips, was the opposite of calming. “No. Definitely not.”

  Camera flashes went off.

  He tried to close the door but the reporters wouldn’t budge.

  “Mr. Albright!” red lipstick lady called out. “Are you choosing to live separately until the wedding?”

  Annnd…he was done.

  “No comment!” Derrick snapped, and he shoved the door shut.

  …

  Meredith took the hands-free call on the second ring. It was her assistant, Beth, in Boston. “Hey! Are you there yet?”

  She’d turned off the main highway and was creeping her way along small roads toward Blue Hill. Meredith took the last bite of her sandwich and set down the wrapper. She’d eaten a very late lunch on the road, but was mostly through her five-hour drive. “Not yet. Why?”

  “Because, uh. Looks like the press got there first.”

  “Nooo.”

  Beth sounded nervous. “It didn’t look good.”

  “What didn’t look good?”

  “Derrick. He seemed sort of surprised. He didn’t really look dressed for company, either. Still was pretty hot though.”

  She didn’t doubt it. Hotness was not Derrick’s problem. The man had been hot when he’d stopped on a dime, causing her to ram into his SUV last summer. Then he’d blamed her for her damaged bumper. Seriously? The man was so infuriating. Gorgeous, but st
ill. “You saw footage?”

  “Just a short clip.”

  “Great.” Meredith glanced at the Crock-Pot she’d secured in the passenger seat with a seat belt. She’d prepared the meal while she was packing then had transferred it to this carrying container. Now she kind of wished she’d made two pot roasts, and not just one.

  As if an extra pot roast could fix this.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “I’ll smooth things over.”

  “There’s one more thing. Your mom called the station.”

  “What?”

  “Three times.”

  “Yikes.” Meredith checked her phone, noting several missed calls and voices messages. She’d had to turn off notifications after her 8:00 a.m. taping because her phone had been going so nuts.

  “She wants to know why nobody told her about this boatbuilder guy. And whether that’s why you’ve been refusing all her Boston area fix-ups.”

  No. That had been on account of the fact that they were all over fifty. Ick.

  “Your dad sounded unhappy, too,” Beth informed her. “He was shouting something in the background in Spanish and then she started yelling at him. I think they both forgot I was there for a bit. What does ay dios mio and ay caramba mean?”

  Meredith blew out a breath. “I’ll call them. I’m sorry you had to deal with that.”

  “No problem. I’m just sorry they got so upset.”

  “Yeah. Me too.” Meredith pursed her lips, weighing how she was going to handle that.

  The GPS told her to turn again and she checked its screen. “I’d better go,” she told Beth. “The roads are really narrow and I need to pay attention.”

  “Okay then, good luck with everything.”

  “Yeah thanks!”

  “Keep me posted.”

  …

  Derrick had just finished making coffee when he heard a car door pop open.

  He set his mug down on the counter and scowled. Another reporter? Really?

  It had only been a couple hours since the last round had come through, though he’d been smart enough not to answer the door and eventually they left. Instead of fielding questions he had no answers to, he’d been busy googling Meredith, trying to track down her phone number.