Brother Art Thou?

Author: TexasAries2

Copyright: January 6, 2002

Pairing: Myron/Zeke

Rating: Slash

Archive: Yes if you want to. If you would like it in word or text just e-mail me and I would be happy to supply it for you.

Feedback: YES PLEASE! Let me know what you think, but please be gentle.

Warnings: language, male/male sex, hanky warning, incest.

Disclaimer: Tour of Duty and its characters are the property of Zev Braun Productions and New Line. These stories are for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended.

Notes: This fic takes place after the last episode of Tour of Duty in September of 1970. I have estimated Myron's age to be about 25 and Zeke's to be 33. Please be gentle and enjoy.

Thanks: There are two people that I want to thank for their encouragement and TazzyJan and Creed. I also want to thank Creed for providing me with informational background for this fic. TJ, Creed this fic is for you!

Another special thanks to my Beta Reader MotherRati whom I’m trying to get hooked on Tour of Duty Fantom.

Summary: Myron and Zeke relationship changes in a way they never thought of.

Brother Art Thou?

by TexasAries2

The young man had been standing at the window for an hour waiting for the plane that was just pulling up. The young stewardess had been quietly observing him and enjoying the view of his perfectly shaped ass and the rest of the body that came with it. She wondered if he could be an actor, a model or a dancer with the way he seemed to flow as he moved. But there was also a danger about him that reminder her of the panther that she saw in the Bronx Zoo last week.

There was a sensuality about him that appealed to both males and females for he looked as if he came straight from bed, his eyes were hooded and veiled, his lips seemed slightly swollen, and his hair looked as if hand in the throes of passion had combed through it.

Myron Goldman was in heaven and hell at the same time. He was in heaven because he would get to see Zeke, the first time in six months, and in hell because he loved Zeke with all his heart but could never tell him.

Myron’s POV

It all started the night that I came home from my tour on compassionate leave. I woke in the middle of the night and didn’t know where I was. But I knew that I was alone. I couldn’t feel him anywhere near me and that scared me. The light and space that he occupied in my heart, mind and soul was gone; instead a dark, gaping wound existed and I felt as if all happiness, light and hope that I had was slowly disappearing in that dark hole.

I felt hot tears slowly descend down my face and I was unable to stop them or the little gasps that came with them. I didn’t know why I was crying, maybe it was for my father, who has only a few more weeks to live, my mother, myself, the men who had die or maybe for leaving Zeke behind in that hellhole.

I got up and switched on the small light on my desk and started to write a letter to Zeke, which turned out to be the first of many. I told him of watching him stand as my flight left, of the flight itself, seeing my father the first time in months. I told him everything as if we were still at Camp Barnett and he was sitting right beside me. I asked after the men, what happened today and any problems I should know about.

I felt better once the letter was done, as if somehow I got the connection back to him. I wasn’t sure if I should mail it, but I remembered he never received much mail. But every time he did, his face would light up like a child’s did opening a Christmas present. Decision made. I placed my letter in an envelope to mail in the morning to Zeke.

Every night I would write to him, telling him of my day, of what was happening in the world. I wrote about my feelings as my father started to die. How we came to forgive one another and become friends and how I was there holding him when he finally surrendered to the disease that took his life.

I had a hard time after that. Being alone. Totally alone. Never had many friends and my best friend was overseas fighting in a GOD DAMN police action. Police action, men didn’t die in a Police Action. Men didn’t come back missing limbs, their souls or their sanity in a Police Action. A whole generation didn’t get totally fucked up over a Police Action.

SHIT! My best friend, my only best friend could die in that GOD DAMN Police Action. Oh God! Come back not the same man I left. I could deal with him missing a limb, but his sanity…Zeke would rather die than live like that and that scared me.

It was then I started to receive the letters from Zeke when I was at my lowest point. His letters telling me how much he missed me being there and what an idiot the new L-Tee was. He told me that he watched as my plane took off and wished that he could have come with me.

Zeke also wrote that he hoped I was back in school finishing my degree in English Lit and meeting new people. He didn’t want me to pull into myself after my father died but to go out and enjoy myself with people my age without worrying about being killed on a SOG Mission. He wanted me to live life and tell him about it to help bridge the gap. How could I refuse this man who had asked so little of me?

So I made a couple of decisions, the first to enroll back in Columbia to finish my Masters in English Lit and the second to keep the house. Where else could I live in New York rent free except for utilities and where it was close to school. The Army would finance my continuing education so that was taken care off and the money my parents and grandparents left me made me extremely comfortable so I didn’t have to get a job to support myself while in school or ever.

When I was accepted back at Columbia I wrote and told him about it. How my classes were going and my thoughts on the teachers and my fellow students. I talked about my frustrations at people’s assumptions about Vets and how a couple of bullies tried to intimidate me into doing their work for them.

Even now I grin at remembering refusing them and one of the fools trying to punch me. How I took the three of them down in front of the students in the commons. Rumors started that I was in covert ops while in Nam and that I was trained killer. I was left alone for the most part, but other Vets found me and I had gained a couple of good friends out of it. They told me about the Support Group at the University to help Vets adjust to the outside, which helped, but writing Zeke helped a lot more.

To help me figure out what I wanted to do after I graduated and why I missed Zeke so much I started to write a novel about the war in Nam. The guys in the support group read it and pushed me into trying to get it published. I wrote to Zeke for his opinion and he told me to go for it.

I told him that I had found and read my mother’s diary and got a big surprise; the General wasn’t my father. What I read suggested that they were both very happy and very much in love at the beginning with the General acting like a doting husband. But my mother got bored with him being away so much and took up with a drifter. His name was never mentioned in the entries, only the initials of C.A. to acknowledge the man who fathered me. She would not have been caught in her infidelity if she hadn’t become pregnant with me. It turned out that the doctors told the General that he was sterile due to an accident and that he could never father a child. When she told him that she was expecting he revealed his secret to her. That night he left her bed never to return.

He wrote me back every chance he could to tell me of the war, how Taylor became a Platoon Sergeant and got his own L.T. How Hockenbury finished out his tour and decided to become a doctor. Apparently he enrolled in and was accepted at Berkley. Zeke wrote of his frustrations with the army and how it was running the war and about being approved to rotate out early because of the leave he had saved up. Zeke would be back in the states in four short months.

I wrote for him to come to New York to stay with me awhile and he could be there when I graduated from Columbia. We could spend the winter in New York and then we could travel around the country seeing the sights in the spring.

I told him everything.

Everything but the dreams that started out innocently at the beginning and now were getting more erotic as his rotation date drew nearer. I dreamt of spending afternoons fishing, watching TV, walking in parks, just enjoying being together as friends. Then the dreams of being held, kissing and other more passionate activities started. I dreamt of making love on the beach as the waves crashed in time with us. Of gently loving in front of a fireplace as the fire ignited the passion in each of us, and the loving, as we grew old together. I was disgusted at myself at how I could sully the friendship Zeke and I had with these dreams.

I started to date, trying to drive these desires and dreams out of my mind.

It didn’t work.

All it did was make me compare the girls with Zeke and I found them wanting. After the fifth disaster I gave up dating and threw myself into writing the book. But being in New York in 1970 with the era of free love in full swing, I was exposed to ideas that never cross my mind when I was younger.

The first time I saw two men kissing I was shocked, but also sexually aroused. That scared me far more that any platoon of VC ever could. I got drunk that night trying to forget what I saw and what I imagined it could be like with Zeke, but it made it all the more real. The next morning after the hangover passed, I finally came to the conclusion.

I was in love with a man and that man being Clanton Ezekiel Anderson, my friend.

I spent the next three months accepting that I loved Zeke and trying to figure out how I could hide that fact from Zeke when he finally arrived.

The need to understand myself sent me to the Library researching why I was this way and reading everything I could on homosexuality and bisexuality. Half the books said that it was a sickness of the mind and could be cured, the other half said that there was not cure because people were born gay. Bisexuals even got a worse rap than Gays. Some of the books I read showed studies with figures that said all but one percent were bisexual. Well then, I was with the rest of the population because I was attracted to both men and women. I preferred women to men but Zeke over everyone else.

Maybe they should have another category, Zekesexual. I can see the definition: one who is sexual attracted to one Platoon Sergeant by the name of Zeke Anderson and if said individual – insert picture of me – were to tell said Sergeant the result will be death or a beating and in either case loss of a friend.

Nope, not going to happen. I’d rather live celibate and have Zeke in my life than be alone and without him. I’d rather die.

I watched as the passengers disembarked, looking for the man that haunted my dreams and thoughts for the last six months. I was finally rewarded when he walked through the terminal doors. I mapped my beloved’s face seeing the exhaustion, pain, and nervousness around the beautiful blue eyes and mouth. I had to resist the urge to kiss and massage those lines and dark circles from his eyes and face.

Zeke looked up and our gazes locked.

Months were erased, as we looked at each other and time stood still. I was drowning in a pair of crystal blue eyes and I could care less. Then I felt the connection stir between us. Rising like the fabled phoenix from the ashes of our loneliness, stronger and fiercer than ever before, we were finally whole after months apart.

I watched as Zeke’s eyes lit up and his smile bloomed across his face. My heart started to pound in my chest and gave me hope that maybe my feelings were returned. But I squashed that hope, for how could a man like Zeke ever love a man. He was straight and I had to accept that if I wanted him in my life. It would be worth it.

Then he moved and suddenly I was swept up in his arms. We held each other, relishing the feel and presence of the other. To know that we’d both made it out alive and that this was real and not a dream. He clutched me tighter and whispered my name over and over as if it was a prayer and all I could do was hold him. I knew that we’d have to pull away before we drew any unwanted attention, but I just wanted to bury myself in his arms for all eternity.

He was so warm.

To feel him and how his scent washed over me was intoxicating.

To be in his arms and to have my senses overloaded by Zeke, I felt safe, loved and cherished for the first time in six long months. But it couldn’t last and I needed to get him out of here, for I could feel him shake as exhaustion set in brought on by the travel and the stress of being among so many people. I pulled out of his embrace to smile up at my love and told him, "Come on, Zeke. You’re exhausted and it’s time to get you someplace you can rest."

He simply nodded and let me lead us out of the terminal to baggage claim to retrieve his duffle bag. In less than twenty minutes I had him in the car and on the way to the house. He dozed in the passenger seat as I drove. I watched him, storing up memories that would keep me warm for the long nights ahead.

When we pulled up to the house I didn’t want to wake him for he looked so peaceful, but knew that a bed would be far more comfortable than sleeping where he was. I used the same technique to wake him as in Nam, knowing that he would be awake instantly and ready for battle. He jerked awake, checking his surrounding for danger before he realized where he was.

Cocking my head I told him, "Come on, Zeke. I have your room all ready for you."

He just smiled that grin of his and followed me into the house, and stopped as he got his first glimpse of the house. "Myron, this place is huge. I knew you came from money but this is just …"

I looked around the house and saw it as Zeke would see it. The brownstone had three stories, the first containing the kitchen, small bathroom, dining room, living room and library. The second contained the family room, a bathroom, and the study. The top story contained the Master room and two other large bedrooms. Hardwood floors graced the house as well as the expense furniture that my mother had picked out. Everything spoke of money and privilege and I froze in panic, fearing that Zeke would think I was trying to rub my wealth in his face.

I turned to him and saw that big grin of his, letting me know that everything was okay and I felt an answering grin crossing my face. I led Zeke up to his bedroom, the one right beside mine. I wished I could install him in my room and take away every pain and ache that he had and love him like I wanted to, but I couldn’t. I left him in his room, allowing him time to rest and relax while I got dinner ready.

My parents had left me well off and I didn’t have to work if I didn’t want to, but I wasn’t one to sit and waste my life. I just didn’t know if I wanted to be a teacher any more. I think I had lost the patience to be a teacher, at least to children. I could try a college or university, but I didn’t know if I wanted to do that either. The time in Nam had left me restless. The need not to be hemmed in by rooms, people, or place was eating away at me making me want to get away from it all. But there was always an exception for every rule, and that one exception for me was Zeke.

I had been toying with the idea of becoming a reporter or writer, for it would allow me to travel and be on the move. I’d enjoyed writing the book and today I’d finally got an answer from one of the publishers, but I wanted Zeke to be here when I opened it to share with me either the good or bad news.

I figured that maybe I should check on Zeke and see if he was finding everything okay, but I had to be honest with myself. I wanted to see him. I made my way up the stairs and paused at the door of his room to drink in the vision that greeted my eyes.

Zeke was only dressed in a towel, hair still wet from the shower he had just taken. Little drops of moisture fell from the tips of his hair to make little rivulets down his muscular back to disappear under the towel. He was like a Greek God, for his golden skin moved over steel coil muscles and his sensuality made me flushed with desire.

He turned, realizing someone was watching him, and I saw the same hunger in his eyes that I knew I had in mine. Before I could stop myself I was in his arms … kissing or being kissed … who cared. But both of us were lost in that first passionate kiss.

He swept me into his arms to lay me gently on the bed. Zeke looked down at me with eyes filled with wonder like I was the most precious gift that he’d ever received. Slowly he sat beside me, treating me like a wild deer that would flee at the first sign of danger. His strong fingers gently mapped my face, memorizing it as if I would vanish before his eyes.

MY GOD! His eyes. I never saw eyes like his, for he saw me. He saw to my soul and beyond, and the love and desire that was in those eyes filled those dark holes in my soul, heart and mind. Filled them so that there was only room for him and his love.

Reaching up I dragged his lips to mine once more and rolled him so that I was on top. I straddled him so that I could place little kisses on his eyes, nose, forehead, and along his jaw. Whispering my love for him over and over and hearing him telling me the same as he returned kiss for kiss.

Pulling away I started to slowly unbutton my shirt but never dropped my eyes from his. I wanted to see him as he watched me undress. I wanted to see the desire in his eyes ignite in a passionate flame that would melt our beings into one.

As I teasingly undid each button of my shirt I watched his eyes as they became darker and darker with love and passion. Slowly I opened my shirt, tantalizing him as I ran my hands from my neck down my chest, over my stomach to the top of my jeans. Slowly I lowered the shirt from my shoulders so that it exposed my upper body to my lover. Taking one of his hands in mine I directed its touch along my body starting at my throat and mirrored what my hands had done before. I loved how his callused hand touched me, fulfilling my dreams.

Sliding to the side I got up and slowly unbuttoned and unzipped my jeans so that I could wiggle out of them to stand nude before Zeke.

The waves of desire that flowed from Zeke sizzled the air and crackled along my skin, compelling me towards him.

I crawled up the side of the bed never losing this connection with his eyes. Letting my mouth map his chest, I kissed and licked across it till I reach his right nipple. I first kissed, licked then suckled on the brown tip, hearing the first growl of pleasure from him. I gave it a quick kiss before I moved to his left nipple and repeated the process. While he was distracted by my mouth I unwrapped him from his towel and continued my assault on his body till he was withering in pleasure. Needing to see him, I pulled back to truly look at him for the first time.

I felt my mouth go dry with desire as I looked upon his body and I felt myself growing harder than I had ever been before in my life. But I wanted him to know that this was not a one-time deal but forever. I cupped his face so that we could look into each other’s souls and I told him, "Zeke, I love you with all my heart, mind and soul. I never want to be parted from you again. If we do this there is no going back for I will die without you."

He seemed to glow and his eyes sparkled as he gazed up at me. Zeke looked right into my soul and with all the love he had for me in his voice he told me, "Myron, it’s finished. No one will ever part us again." Then cupping my face he continued, "If this is going to work, we have to talk. Talk about our feelings and be totally honest with one another. No barriers, ever. Agreed?"

I could do nothing but agree for he was everything that mattered to me. I took his hands and kissed one, then the other. Then with all my love in my eyes and voice I told him, "Agreed."

Leaning forward I was enfolded in his arms and his love once more before he rolled us over so his weight blanketed me. Zeke caught my wrists in his hands and placed them over my head, preventing me from touching him as he mapped my body with his mouth, making me purr with pleasure and learning all my pleasure zones. I felt his knee insert itself between my legs, asking for permission for the rest of him to enter. Wanting and needing him more than anything I spread my thighs to allow his body to rest there and gasped as he rolled his groin against mine. This was better than any fantasy that I’d ever dreamed possible and I wanted more, so I wrapped my legs around his hips to capture him as I set up a matching rhythm to his gentle thrusts. It was his turn to groan, but he stilled so that he could pull back to look at me.

"Zeke, don’t stop. Please don’t stop." I whispered, passion lowering my voice as I tried to resume this welcome assault of pleasure.

He released my hands to capture my face to ask me, "Myron, have you ever done this before?" I shook my head no and he continued, "I need you ... I need you to show me it’s truly over ... that this is real ... that I won't wake up tomorrow back in the bush ... without you." Leaning forward he whispered, "Make love to me, Myron," before he kissed me.

I thought nothing could be more wonderful than Zeke loving me, but I was wrong. With those five little words he awoke a passionate inferno within me that could only be quenched by making him mine. Claiming him. But I had to be sure. "Zeke, I never..."

He hushed me by placing his strong, loving finger on my lips, silencing me. "Just take it slow and easy. There is no rush. I trust you."

With those words I rolled him on his back and took my time learning to play and tasting his body. Learning it as I would an instrument, where and how to make it groan, purr, and howl in pleasure, to drive him to lose all control, to be finally free. In tasting him I realized that I had become addicted to the texture of his skin, the salt of his sweat, and the tang of his essence from his leaking manhood.

Knowing that we could not last much longer I searched my mind to find something that I could use to ease this claiming when I spotted the hand cream on the dresser. Giving Zeke a gentle kiss to his swollen lips I slid off to retrieve it, hating the loss of his warmth and body.

Turning back towards Zeke, I was hypnotized by the passion that had darkened his eyes and flushed his skin. I felt my heart stop, for all I wanted to do was worship at the feet of this deity of love for not even cupid could be as perfect. Returning to the foot of the bed I started to worship my love starting with his strong feet, then moving up to muscular calves, to the softness of his thighs and then to his quivering manhood. I opened up the lotion and started to prepare Zeke as I kissed and licked up his stomach to his chest where I suckled at his nipple until he was begging me to take him.

I directed his legs over my thighs and used a pillow to provide support for his back. Slowly I entered him and watched as his back arched in pleasure. I needed him to look at me, to see all my love for him, so I commanded him, "Zeke, look at me ... please don't look away ... watch me as I love you."

His eyes burned me with passion and became my whole world as I inched my way in, comforting him with gentle strokes and words of love until I was flush against him. I collapsed onto him, for it had never felt like this with Nikki or Alex and I was lost. I had found paradise, for never had I felt such warmth or perfection as I did buried within Zeke.

Zeke's legs and arms wrapped around me, anchoring me to him so that I could find my way back from the turbulent ocean of my desire and emotions. His eyes and voice like a lighthouse calling and showing me the way back to him.

I came back to him to capture his face and allow my desire for him to darken my voice. I told him, "I L O V E you, Zeke. You're MINE now and FOREVER."

"Yours," was the single reply as we were lost in the hurricane of our desires. Calmness hit us as we teetered on the precipice of completion, allowing our souls to touch before the waves of our climaxes crashed around us. I fasten onto the skin over the hollow of his neck and shoulders to place my brand. Marking him as mine for the entire world to see as I lost consciousness.

I don't know how much time had passed while I was unconscious, but I awoke still within Zeke and wrapped up in his embrace. Gentle kisses fluttered across my face along with murmured sounds of love. When I tried to pull back, Zeke tightened his hold on me and said, "No. Don't move."

So I stayed long after Zeke's body had worked me out of him. Both of us too contented and happy to move as we talked of our future together, as we watched the shadows creep across the room. Remembering the roast I had put in the over two hours ago we got cleaned up and dressed before making our way downstairs hand in hand to share our first meal together.

As we took our time savoring our dinner he told me how much those letters meant to him. How they helped to hold him together and keep him grounded. Wanting to get him and his men safely back to the base so that he could read the letters waiting for him. Both of us realized that we’d taken each other for granted and didn't know what we had until it was gone. It was burned into our consciences to never let us take what we had for granted again, for the months of loss and pain we had gone through would be there to remind us.

Remembering the letter from my publisher, I asked him, "Zeke, would you ... I got a letter back from one of the publishera ... would you read it to me?"

He got up and held out his hand for me to take me as we made our way to the living room, which allowed me to retrieve the letter from the entranceway table. Settling me onto his knees and then cuddling me as he took the letter from my hands. Tilting my face towards his he said, "This don't mean nothing." The old grunt saying that we had used time and time again to help us with the frustrations of war.

He opened the letter and read:

Dear Mr. Goldman,

We have received your novel and read it with great pleasure. Being a Korean War vet I enjoyed how you made your character and situations so real to life that it touched me deeply. I believe that your novel will reach many war vets and I would be very proud to publish such an outstanding novel.

We would like to meet with you at your earliest convenience to discuss a contract that will benefit both of us. Please contact my secretary to set up an appointment. I look forward to meeting you.

Sincerely,

Joel Watters.


He liked it! They wanted to publish it!

I was stunned and it was reflected in my voice, "Zeke! They liked it ... They really liked it ... They want to publish it."

Then I felt Zeke's arms around me and heard him say, "Myron. You did it. You did. I knew you could do it, boy. I'm so proud of you!"

"I should call him ... No, it's too late, I’ll call him tomorrow. Zeke, I'm going to be an author!" I was so excited that I doubted that I could sleep tonight and I was squirming in his lap without realizing what it was doing to my lover.

"Calm down, boy, or you're won't be the only one excited." he growled in my ear just before kissing that spot just behind it as he rubbed his hardness against my ass.

I felt myself become very interested to find out how excited I could make Zeke before he would want to claim me. With that goal in mind I started to grind my ass against him, making him growl all the more.

He started to kiss along my throat as his quick fingers started to unbutton my shirt, caressing my skin as he nudged my chin up so that he could have more access to my neck. I gasped in pleasure as his fingers aroused first my left and then my right nipple to aching hardness. He worked his hand down slowly to the button of my jeans before unbuttoning. Opening the front of my jeans so he could work his hand down to cup my hardening shaft.

I lost all thought at that point, just wanting and needing more of Zeke. To be the center of his universe as he claimed me as his own, filling me with his love, was my one and only desire. Zeke seem to sense what I needed and decided to give it to me. He placed his arm under my knees and the other around my back as I shifted so that I could wind my arms around him as I licked and kissed the right side of his neck. We had just made it to the foot of the stairs when the phone rang.

A groan of frustration came from both of us as he lowered me to the ground so I could answer it, but he didn't go far. For as I answered the phone he wrapped his arms around from behind me and started to kiss and nuzzle the back of my neck.

I picked up the receiver and said, "Hello?"

"Mr. Myron Goldman?" asked a male voice at the other end of the phone.

Trying to wiggle away from Zeke so that I wouldn't laugh, I answered, "I'm Myron Goldman."

"Mr. Goldman, my name is Scott Winters, your mother's attorney. We were instructed in your mother's will to locate and contact your natural father at the time of Martin Goldman's death." I froze as what he was saying penetrated the fog of desire clouding my mind. Zeke seemed to sense something was wrong and stopped his nuzzling to just hold me. The voice continued on as if my world hadn't been turned upside down, "We have found him and he wishes to meet with you tomorrow at one o'clock. He wanted me to tell you that he doesn't want anything from you, only to meet with you."

I was too shocked to really comprehend what the lawyer was saying. Zeke took command by first shifting me so that I could sit down in a chair and then taking over the conversation with the lawyer. I could hear his voice asking who he was speaking to, why they were calling and the address for the meeting, and then the click of the receiver as he hung up the phone.

He gently lifted me up in his arms and carried me up the stairs to our bedroom. There he undressed me and tucked me into bed before undressing himself so he could joining me. I curled up against him, needing the safe harbor of his arms and love to protect me from the storm of my fears and shock. I don't know how long we lay there, not saying anything, just accepting the comfort of his presence and love before I fell asleep.

I awoke feeling loved, cherished and safe in Zeke's arms, ready to face the fact that my mother would turn my whole world upside down just like that. The General wasn't the best father in the world, but he was the only one that I knew. True the man never knew of my birth, but I still didn't want to meet him or face him alone.

Zeke's arms tightened around me as he lifted my face towards him. "Myron, you don't have to do this if you don't want to."

Searching his face I told him, "No. I think I should give the man a chance. It's only one meeting and then it would be over. Neither of us have to see each other again, but I need you to go with me."

"I got your six, Myron. You're not going in alone."

I called the publisher to set up the meeting two days from now. Hopefully everything would go back to the way it was before the phone call. Just Zeke and me.

We arrived early at the law practice of Winters and Lawson, where we were promptly taken to Mr. Winters’ office to await the arrival of my natural father. Zeke relaxed in the corner of the couch, watching as I paced back and forth and keeping his eye on the door. I knew below the relaxed surface Zeke was coiled and ready to attack and defend us, and that gave me the focus to stop pacing and sit beside him.

We both tensed when we heard two deep male voices just outside the door and stood to face the two men who entered. The first being Winters, who I ignored for my concentration was on the second man, my father. This man looked remarkably like Zeke, the same eyes, the same forehead, the same build and hair, but his was peppered with gray. I heard Zeke's startled gasp and a sense of dread struck my soul, for I knew that this man was not only my father but Zeke's as well.

"Gentlemen, I’d like you to meet Mr. Clanton Anderson - your father, Mr. Goldman."

…TBC in My Brother, My Lover