A Match Made In Bliss

This time there was no mistaking how her heart leapt when Garrett said her name. What was up with that? It’s not as though she was interested or anything.

“I’m glad you stopped by. I need to head back anyway. Can you recommend a good restaurant for lunch?”

His eyes brightened. “Want to have lunch with me?”

“Sure, that would be great,” she said, meaning it.

“Good,” he answered. “I’m really glad you came, Lauren.”

There was that heart flip again. He’d better quit saying her name or she’d need a pacemaker.

and her husband, Jim, started on a three-mile trek through Amish country in 1997, and at that moment, she had no idea she was taking her first steps toward a new career. Inspired by their walk, she wrote an article, which was published a year later. Other articles soon followed. After studying fiction writing, she celebrated her first novella sale in 2001, with CBA bestselling novellas and novels, written as Diann Hunt, reaching the bookshelves soon afterward. Wanting to be used by God in the ministry of writing, Diann left her job as a court reporter in the fall of 2003 and now devotes her time to writing. Well, writing and spoiling her four granddaughters. She has been happily married forever and loves her family, chocolate, her friends, chocolate, her dog and, well, chocolate. Be sure to check out her Web site at www.diannhunt.com. Sign her guestbook and drop her an e-mail. And, hey, if you have any chocolate…

Diann Walker

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make your paths straight.

—Proverbs 3:5–6

With heartfelt thanks:

To my wonderful agent, Karen Solem, for your

constant support and wise counsel.

To my editor, Krista Stroever, for your upbeat

attitude that always encourages me, and for your expertise that challenges me to grow as a writer. It is my privilege to work with you.

To my friend and kindred spirit, Colleen Coble,

who patiently sees me through every crisis and critiques my words in their roughest form. I thank God for you.

To my supportive husband, without whom my

stories would never have felt the warm embrace of a book binding. I love you more than words can say.

Most of all, to you, my readers, who are kind

enough to spend a few hours of your time to journey through these pages with me.

May God bless you all.

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

Letter to Reader

“I can’t believe you did this without even consulting me!” Garrett Cantrell stomped across the den of the Woods Inn Bed and Breakfast. His footsteps were muffled once he stepped on the oriental rug, then thumped again when he turned and walked across the hardwood floor.

He stopped and frowned at his daughters, who sat quietly on the sofa. “What were you thinking?” He turned to his firstborn. “Macy, you’re a high school graduate—and older than most at that,” Garrett said, referring to the childhood illness that had caused Macy to start school later than others, giving her almost a two-year edge over her peers. “You’re old enough to know better. Would you appreciate it if I manipulated your life?”

Macy lifted her chin in a rebellious attitude. He shot her a quelling look, and she lowered it once again.

“And you.” He looked at Molly. “You’ll be a senior next year. How about I set you up with Reggie Snodgrass?” The look on her face would have been comical had Garrett not been in such a foul mood.

Reggie didn’t exactly turn the girls’ heads. Well, he did, but usually in the opposite direction. Everyone in the area knew Reggie had been sweet on Molly since first grade. He was tall, skinny, wore black-rimmed glasses, talked with a nasal twang and snorted every time he laughed. The typical high school geek.

Molly lifted her face to her dad, her eyes wide with fear. She wisely kept her mouth shut.

Garrett paced some more. “I knew I should have gotten rid of that computer.” Stopping in front of them again, he said, “Let me get this straight. Because of your fascination with that reality TV stuff, you came up with the brilliant idea to advertise in a chat room, a contest called ‘Win Daddy’s Heart’? Then you left details on a message board.”

The girls sat rooted like potted plants.

“You picked five applicants from pictures and bios e-mailed to you and offered the women a free two-week stay at our B and B.”

Completely mute. Macy’s right eye twitched.

“You figured we could live off our investments, so the two weeks without paying guests would be no big deal.” Still pacing, he said this more to himself than to them. “Then you took it upon yourselves to write these contestants’ names on the scheduling book so I wouldn’t double book our rooms. When they come, their afternoons will be free, and I am to take them out individually on the nights of my choosing.” He stopped and turned to them.