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two bags she
     had brought with her.
    “Trunk’s open.” Gypsy’s voice came from the other side of the vehicle as Piper moved
     for the car.
    By the time she reached the trunk, Amy’s sister was standing next to it, lifting it
     for her as Piper threw her bags in. She took a good look at Gypsy’s face in the trunk’s
     light. Just to be certain she was who she was supposed to be, Piper told herself,
     realizing some of Dawg’s lectures on safety might have actually stuck in her mind.
    The second Piper moved back from the trunk, Gypsy had it closed and was moving around
     her to the driver’s side.
    “Ready to roll?” the other woman asked, glancing back as Piper watched her.
    “Ready to roll.” A quick nod and Piper was opening the passenger door and sliding
     inside quickly before pulling it closed.
    Gypsy’s door didn’t so much as squeak as she closed it and restarted the vehicle.
    She resembled Amy, Piper decided as the car pulled back out onto the main road and
     headed toward town.
    The same amber or caramel hair, streaked with much lighter strands by the sun. She
     was slender, compact, and the jeans and racer-back T-shirt she wore showing off her
     lightly tanned, well-toned upper body made her appear smaller and more fragile than
     her diminutive five-foot-four frame already did.
    “Amy and I were betting you wouldn’t make it out after she told me who your brother
     and cousins were.” Gypsy flashed her a quick, rueful grin. “I don’t know if I would
     have followed through after I learned Natches Mackay was your cousin if I hadn’t already
     promised.”
    Piper stiffened, turning to stare back at Gypsy warily. Great, she knew Natches. Piper
     wasn’t even going to bother asking how yet. Only one question was uppermost in her
     mind. “Did you contact him?”
    “Natches?” Flicking her a questioning look, Gypsy efficiently navigated the curvy
     mountain road that led to the interstate.
    “Yeah.” Piper could feel that sense of freedom slowly disintegrating.
    “Not hardly.” Gypsy grimaced. “Picking you up might piss him off at me, but calling
     him and letting him know would only add a shadow of distrust to my name if he ever
     actually meets me.”
    Neither the resignation in Gypsy’s voice, nor her explanation, made sense.
    “What do you mean?” Piper shook her head. “Wouldn’t it be the other way? He wouldn’t
     trust you if he learned you had helped me? Wouldn’t he trust you more if you contacted
     him?”
    “Doesn’t work that way.” The other woman rejected the suggestion, her expression still
     a bit stiff, with an air of secretiveness. “I promised I’d help you before I knew
     who your cousin was. You don’t appear to be in any trouble, and my own sources verified
     how protective your brother and cousins are. If I called him without cause, no matter
     how much he would love to know where you are and who you’re with, then he’d count
     that as a betrayal of confidence. I’d be deemed untrustworthy, unless you were in
     trouble.” She threw Piper a quick, amused look. “Are you in trouble?”
    “No trouble,” Piper promised her, breathing out a sigh of relief. “I just don’t need
     company, you know?”
    She hoped Gypsy understood. Just as she hoped the other woman didn’t call Natches
     later.
    “Sometimes a girl just has to do what a girl has to do. And sometimes she just has
     to do it alone,” Gypsy agreed as the lights from the dash emphasized the unsmiling
     expression she wore.
    “Exactly,” Piper stated. “The New York fashion scene isn’t a place where any of them
     would get along well. It would be like placing a herd of bulls in a roomful of china.
     Forget the china shop. They would raze the shop and head for the warehouse.”
    Gypsy gave a small, surprised laugh at the description before her amusement was quickly
     pulled back.
    “I’ve heard that about Natche.” She gave a light laugh. “He was a legend in Afghanistan
     while