Kaden & Keegan (The Walkers of Coyote Ridge #9) - Nicole Edwards

Prologue

Twenty-one years ago

Friday, September 17, 1999

“A ranch, Kaden. We will own one one day. If we have nothin’ else, we’ll have a ranch.” Keegan Walker stretched out his arms and did a three sixty as he continued to walk. “None of this suburban, cookie-cutter crap. A house we can make our own, a barn worthy of some horses.”

Beside him, his twin brother Kaden’s boots scraped as they walked along the fancy sidewalks leading home. He missed the dirt road to the old place, the dust they kicked up as they clomped along the tree-lined path that had been formed by hard work and heavy vehicles.

“One day,” Kaden agreed.

His brother wasn’t much for talking. Of the two of them, Keegan was the one who’d gotten the boisterous personality. Or so his parents had been saying since the day they were born.

“And while we’re dreamin’ big, we’ll have ourselves one woman,” Keegan announced, grinning wide.

“We’re sixteen,” Kaden noted. “Don’t think that’s somethin’ we need to worry about for some time.”

Definitely not, but it was something they would plan for. Until that time came, they would find joy in moving from one hot girl to the next. That was one of the good things—perhaps the only good thing—about living in suburban hell. Just in the short time they’d been there, it was clear these chicks were hot for a couple of twins who sported cowboy hats and boots, and they didn’t bat an eyelash at making out with both of them at the same time.

The big two-story red brick house their parents bought came into view and grew larger with every step. He missed the old house, the giant pecan tree in the front yard, seeing their devoted retriever, Roscoe, run out the door to greet them when they walked up the path. He would never understand how his father could give all that up to live in a neighborhood with nosy neighbors who brought over pies they’d purchased in the freezer section of the grocery store and pretended they wanted to get to know them when what they really wanted was to see how the rednecks lived. Yep, he’d heard a couple of the jock assholes call them that.

But Keegan would make the most of it because they only had two more years here, then they could go off and do whatever the hell they wanted. Which would be, “A ranch, one woman, and … we’re gonna live in Coyote Ridge.”

Kaden’s head snapped his way. “Seriously?”

Keegan shrugged. “In the country with our cousins on every street corner. Not this”—he waved his hand in the direction of the house—“uppity-housewife-screwin’, picket-fence-havin’, briefcase-carryin’ bullshit.”

Kaden snickered. “Sometimes, Keeg, you say the nicest things.”

“Don’t I?” He grinned.

While Keegan loved his parents beyond measure, couldn’t imagine living anywhere they weren’t, he despised this residential mecca Gerald and Sue Ellen Walker had moved into last year. It drove him absolutely batshit crazy that they had neighbors right next door. Why Mom and Dad had up and sold the ranch and moved here, he would never know. Nor had they shared the reason the few hundred times he’d asked.

“It’s not so bad,” Kaden said, as though reading his thoughts. “We’ve got a pool.”

“Only good thing about it,” Keegan grumbled.

“We don’t have to share a bedroom with Quinn anymore,” Kaden added.

“Okay, only other good thing,” he agreed.

When his mother and father had presented them with the idea of moving—something they quickly learned they had no say in—their parents had used the number of bedrooms as a way of getting them on board with the idea. Six kids, seven bedrooms. Enough for them to have their own.

Keegan had immediately disputed the idea. So had Kaden. They shared a bedroom and that was that. Why he felt compelled to be where his twin was, he didn’t know, but it had been that way since birth, and he didn’t feel the need to justify his reasons. Separate beds were a must, but the room had to be the same. Their argument had taken some of the pizazz out of their parents’ presentation—at least for them—but it hadn’t changed the outcome. And here they were, living in this monstrosity of a house, going to a big-city school with their big-city rules, and trying to fit in. Not that the latter was difficult for them. Gauging by the number of girls who bombarded the house phone with calls, they were doing a damn fine job.

“So a ranch, not a farm?” Kaden asked as they tromped across the