Egg Hunt: Chapter Five: Border Bound
Copyright ©️ Anshin B. Kelly, Mrs. Rosa, All Rights Reserved.
Chapter Five: Border Bound
The Ford’s engine growled low, and a scraping sound let people know warming up was a chore for good 'ol trusty rusty. Riley and Eli rolled out of Flagstaff Friday evening, the last streaks of pink and gold painting the sky. Riley took her place shotgun, her Bob Marley CD spinning “No Woman, No Cry” through the crackling speakers, her camping gear and bat stashed in the back alongside Eli’s duffel and some supplies. Riley had a registered gun, she just felt a strange attachment to the bat she'd clocked the man with she'd now fallen for- and she thought the whole thing was hilarious, while it was unexpected, and scary. The dented metal box with Lila’s cigarette case and note rested in her lap, a tangible link to the mystery driving them South. They'd driven back to The Eagle's Roost for dinner, heading out, six hours stretched ahead—and the air between them buzzed with purpose, laced with something softer, unspoken since that kiss over Indian tacos the night before.
Riley sipped instant coffee from a chipped travel mug, her dark eyes tracing the horizon as the city faded behind them. These past months, her life had tilted—less about chasing deadlines and more about chasing ghosts, Jed Carlton’s shadow pulling her deeper than any story she’d pitched in a while. Freelance journalism had been her bread and butter since she ditched her pious New Mexico roots for Flagstaff’s gritty freedom. She’d built a name for herself—Riley Voss, the sharp-tongued sleuth who sniffed out buried truths for online mags and local papers. A good piece, like the Hank Grayson murder tied to Jed’s 1950 stash, could net her a couple grand, enough to cover her shoebox apartment’s rent and keep her Jeep gassed. Gigs came steady—tourist scams, small-town scandals, the occasional environmental exposé—but they’d tapered off lately. She’d been turning down assignments, letting her inbox pile up with editor pleas for “the next big thing.”
Why? The Jed Carlton chase had her hooked—his heists, Lila’s vanishing act. It wasn’t just the thrill anymore; it was personal, tangled up with Eli Carter in ways she couldn’t untie. She’d decided to take a break from her regular story-hunting, dipping into her modest savings to fund this obsession. Sorting out her feelings for Eli was the other half of it—those flutters in her gut, that kiss that said too much. She needed time, space, and maybe a relic in the desert to figure out what the hell she was doing with him.
Eli, behind the wheel, drummed a rhythm on the steering column. He’d been scraping by since jail, picking up odd jobs—hauling junk, fixing fences, whatever paid cash under the table for a guy with a rap sheet. Petty theft and break-ins were behind him, mostly, but steady work was scarce for an ex-con. That changed a few weeks back when Tommy, his old Phoenix running buddy, offered him a spot at his garage on the edge of Flagstaff. “Need a hand with the wrecks,” Tommy had said, tossing him a greasy rag and a grin. “You’re good with engines—better than stealing ‘em.”
Eli took it, part-time at first, then full shifts—ten bucks an hour, off the books, wrenching on beaters like the ‘98 Ford they were riding in now. It wasn’t much, but it kept his trailer’s lights on and the fridge stocked with beer and ramen. The gig suited him—hands busy, mind free to chew on Jed and Lila, and close enough to Riley’s place to drop by in the evenings. Tommy ribbed him nonstop about “settling down” with his “bat girl,” but Eli just smirked and kept working. The job gave him roots, a tether he hadn’t had since his mom died, and it funded this trip—gas, tacos, water, coffee, and a few other necessities.
“You’re quiet,” Eli said, glancing at Riley, “Plotting how to ditch me already?”
Riley laughed, setting her mug in the console. “Just thinking about cash flow, Carter. Chasing ghosts doesn’t pay like it used to. My savings are taking a hit for this—better be worth it.”
He grinned, easing the Ford around a curve. “What, no big scoop lined up? Thought you’d be typing ‘Golden Egg Found!’ by sundown.”
“Taking a break,” she said, shrugging. “Jed’s got me hooked—him and Lila, and…” She trailed off, her eyes flicking to his hand on the wheel, then away. “Anyway, for the first time in my life, I want something more- I want to be with you."
Eli smiled, and it seemed to warm up the cab. "I gotta stick around—make sure you don’t swing that bat at the wrong guy, that's my privilege."
She grinned in spite of herself, shoving his shoulder lightly. “Well pretty boy. You’re still top of the list anyway.” Her tone was light, the flutter back in her stomach, and she didn’t pull away when his hand brushed hers on the seat. The kiss from last night hung there, a quiet bridge they hadn’t crossed again, yet.
The miles rolled on, the landscape shifting from Arizona’s high desert—scrub oak and juniper dotting the red earth—to the flatter, harsher expanse of New Mexico’s Chihuahuan Desert. By midday, they’d crossed the State line, the Ford rumbling past neon signs and into the open stretch South of Albuquerque.
"You ready for roughin' it in the wild?" Riley said.
"What, camping?" Eli said, his grin flashing in the dim cab light as he eased the Ford over a bump, the suspension groaning.
"Yeah, can you build a fire and cook on it, city boy?" Riley shot back, her smile mischievous.
Eli laughed, a low rumble that filled the cab, his hazel eyes glinting with mock offense. “City boy? Voss, I grew up dodging cops in Phoenix alleys, not sipping lattes. I can build a fire—cooked plenty of hot dogs over a trash can blaze back in the day. You’re the one I’m worried about—sure you can handle a night without Wi-Fi?”
Riley snorted, folding her arms. “Please, Carter. I’ve camped more than you’ve boosted cars. My sisters and I used to pitch tents out here—New Mexico summers, stars out, no city glow to ruin it. I’ll have a fire going before you figure out which end of a match to light."
"Oh no, I got that sucking down smokes," Eli said flashing a grin, Riley burst out laughing. “Big talk,” he continued, steering the Ford with the thumb of his right hand, the other hand holding the top of the window frame, his elbow resting and the window down. The headlights sliced through the dusk, illuminating the way a desert looks at night- haunted, mysterious. “Bet you still scream if a coyote howls too close.”
“Only if it’s got your grin,” she fired back, but her tone was softened. She glanced at him—stubbled jaw, gold cross swaying with the jostle, taking him in. “Seriously, though—fire’s on you. I’ll set up the tent. We’ve got work to do once we’re settled.”
“Deal,” Eli said, his voice steadying as the track narrowed, the desert closing in. “Fire and food—I’ll even toast some marshmallows if you packed ‘em. Riley nodded, her mind kicking in as the Ford rattled deeper into the Chihuahuan expanse.
Eli’s grin faded into focus. “Yeah, and if my old man’s in on it, he’ll show his face soon enough. Let’s get camp up quick—camping in the dark’s no picnic.”
An hour later, the Ford rolled to a stop in a sandy clearing ringed by low dunes, the lone mesquite tree casting a skeletal shadow under the bruising purple sky. Riley hopped out, boots crunching beneath her, and slung her bag over her shoulder. Eli got out too and went around to Riley, slipping his arm around her waist.
“Home sweet nowhere,” Riley said, scanning the emptiness. The Organ Mountains loomed hazy in the distance, a jagged silhouette against the last light. “Let’s move—tent first, then your fire, sorry no trash cans."
Eli's eyes twinkled, "Watch and learn, Voss.” He set to work, gathering dry mesquite twigs and creosote scraps, piling them in a shallow pit he scraped out with their shovel. Riley unfolded her weathered two-person tent—a relic from college camping trips with her sisters—staking it tight against the wind. The nylon snapped taut, a small fortress in the vastness, and she tossed their sleeping bags inside.
By the time she’d finished, Eli had a fire crackling, the flames licking up through the twigs, casting a warm glow across the sand. He crouched beside it, feeding in a thicker branch, the smoke curling like a ghost into the night. “Told you,” he said, glancing up with a grin. “Trash can skills translate.”
“Not bad,” Riley admitted, plopping down on a blanket she’d spread near the fire. “Now let’s see if you can cook on it. We’ve got tortillas, beans, and some jerky—make me a masterpiece.”
Eli chuckled, digging into the cooler they’d packed. “Tortilla wraps it is—street style, with a desert twist.” He heated the tortillas over the flames on a tin pan Riley had supplied, spooning beans from a can and tearing jerky into strips, the makeshift meal sizzling as he worked. Riley watched, her stomach growling, the flutter easing into something steadier—comfort, maybe, or trust. They’d faced a lot together; a night in the desert felt like nothing- except something weighed on her mind.
He handed her a warm tortilla wrap, the beans spiced with a packet of chili powder she’d tossed in the cooler. He then got to work on his own. When he was done, he settled down on a flat-topped rock across from her and they ate in companionable silence, the fire popping between them. The stars were coming out now, a thick spill across the black, and the air cooled fast, the desert’s edge biting through her jacket.
“Good job on the fire,” Riley said, licking drippings from her fingers. “Cold’s creeping in."
A moment passed, and Eli cleared his throat, then he said, "Riley, how far have you been with a man?" It's like he read her thoughts. He said it so tenderly, so respectfully, Riley felt ok about answering him, despite her anxiety. She'd come all this way with him hadn't she? And she was about to spend the night in the same tent. They'd so far slept in separate rooms.
"Uh, well, my last boyfriend and I went to have sex. But once we, um got started, it was…painful…we were, young, inexperienced." She looked up to see Eli's hazel eyes in the firelight looking at her with such caring emotion, she felt herself- falling into them. She needed to get something out right then and there, "Eli, I don't want to have sex until I know for sure we're committed…I know it's old fashioned, but that's how I feel."
Eli smiled, his handsome face glowing in the firelight. He didn't say anything, he didn't have to, he and Riley understood each other.