Eli Cooper: A Saga of the Old West

By Jan Sumner

The post Civil War west was wild and untamed. Eli Cooper grew up at such a time in western Kansas. After watching his father gunned down at a young age he vows to take revenge on the killers. It's a passage from youth to manhood as an unwitting gunslinger, trapped between longing and certainty, with an outcome he never saw coming.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jan Sumner
• Release date: Aug 1, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465948380

Jan Sumner

Jan has written ten books, two of which received special recognition. He was honored to present his book Legacy of a Monarch-An American Journey at the Baseball Hall of Fame in 2006, and his book Independence, Mantle and Miss Able was acknowledged by the Smithsonian in 2015 as part of their Home Town Team project and is also in the Baseball Hall of Fame.Jan also works with the homeless and teaches Sunday school.

Book preview

Chapter 1

The tall, dry grass brushed against his face as he crawled along the ground trying to get closer. It was an unbearably hot day. His sun baked shirt scorching his back. His stomach was in knots and he could feel the fear sweating through his skin. There was a large, sagging tree just ahead. He was hoping he could slip up behind it without being seen. Suddenly, he heard a loud bang and he knew in his heart, even as a little boy, what had just happened. He dug his fingers into the ground, trying to become part of it and vanish into the dirt, but he knew he couldn’t. He was going to face what would be the most painful event in his young life. As he crawled to the tree on all fours, he heard a horse gallop off. He stood, and there to his horror was his father lying on his back, staring straight up into an empty sky, expressionless, shot through the heart.

* * * * *

It had been a long, hard summer. The heat and dust had ruined what crops they’d planted, and the few cattle they had were lean and living on borrowed time. Eli and his dad did the best they could, but sometimes all the hard work in the world can’t change fate. His dad, Sam Cooper, was a simple man, a man of the earth. He worked hard, played little and tried to be the best provider his son could want. He was a man in his late forties, but he looked much older. He was tall and slender with a full handlebar mustache and bushy gray hair. He was a little stooped from working at the bend of his back and his hands were knurled and worn, but they never slowed him down when it came to work. They’d lived on this land for over twenty years. Eli’s mom had died during his birth. It had always been just Eli and his dad, and for the most part that was fine with Eli. But, he’d always wondered what it would have been like to have a mom, someone to hold you when it was cold or you were just scared as a little boy. As the years passed so did the longing for such things. He loved his dad with all his heart and he knew his dad loved him, even if it was hard to understand and never discussed. It was up in the morning; tend to your chores, clean up for supper, and go to bed early. It was an uncompromising and isolated life in western Kansas, but it was all they had and they’d always made the best of it.

The year was 1866 - almost two years after the Civil War had officially ended. Kansas had been a border war state, but those who settled in the west felt less of the unrest and had tried to preserve their way of life. Eli was six years old, riding next to his dad on the buckboard as they made their way to town for supplies. The nearest settlement to their farm was Russell Springs, and that was a grueling hour long trip in the wagon. They never spoke much on these trips, but then they never really spoke much anyway. Their relationship was based on work, hard work. Any talk was about that - what to do, how to do it and when to do it. Thus, Eli was a quiet, self-contained boy. At night before bed they’d read the Bible. His dad would say, There ain’t no better stories anywhere than right here in this book! It was the way Eli had learned to read, so his vernacular was, at times, somewhat pious for one so young. As he grew, however, and encountered those other than his father, he began to expand his vocabulary albeit into words much too colorful for their nightly readings. It was a life with little excitement, but there was a certain comfort about it, a sameness that settled in your bones and brought a feeling of serenity.

As they drew close to the town, they could hear some sort of commotion. People were running around, dust flying, then they heard the sound of gunfire. Sam pulled the horses to a rein and they just sat there. Suddenly, out of the dust two men on horseback came flying by - guns drawn, whipping their horses, heading west, right past Sam and Eli, who sat frozen in their wagon, not believing what they were seeing. One of the men pulled up, pointed his revolver right at Sam, pulled the trigger…click, empty. He spurred his horse and disappeared over the horizon.

Eli looked up at his dad, still disbelieving what he’d seen. Sam dropped his head in his hands and began to shake. What if the gun hadn’t been empty, would he have shot them both, or would Eli have had to fend for himself the rest of his life. It all hit him at once and he broke.

Several minutes passed before Sam could gather himself and urge the team forward. They would learn that these two outlaws had robbed the feed store, shot Mr. Pierce, killing him and taken every dime they could lay their hands on. It would not be the last time Sam would see them.

Chapter 2

How many times had he been through this? With each passing encounter he could feel a certain weariness creeping into his soul, a knowledge that it would never end…until, well, the only possible way it could end.

It would start in a bar, or a sighting on the street, or Eli just riding into town. The counterfeit assassins always wanted spectators, wanted everyone to know who they were and the famous gunfighter they were about to kill.

Today was no different, a fresh young face just dying to prove he was the one, he was man enough, fast enough and foolish enough to tempt fate. Eli could hear the rustle of the crowd, horses moving around and that ill-fated voice, Eli Cooper, get yourself down here, I got somethin’ for ya!

Slowly Eli rose from sitting on the bed and made his way to the window. There he stood in the middle of the street, couldn’t be more than eighteen, thinking he had the sand to pull this off. As the gathering sensed what was going to happen and circled around this young gun, Eli could feel it happening, that inner fire begining to build. It was taking a little longer now, but it was still there. He figured it came from self preservation, that part of you that wants to live at all costs, as well as anger, the idea that this young nameless kid actually believed he had what it would take. Yet, here again, was some shadowy face wanting to make a reputation for himself.

It was just about noon, so with the sun directly above them, it would play no part in this drama. It was a clammy day, a day like many others he’d been through, a day that was coming around all too often it seemed. Eli stepped onto the boardwalk outside his hotel; the townspeople suddenly grew quiet and moved away. The young man took a step back, maybe realizing for the first time that this was actually going to happen. Bravery loves company, but he was alone now and all his bluster meant nothing. He was going to have to stand his ground, and the prospect sent chills to the very marrow of his bones.

He’d never been shot before, and now as he lay on the ground and strange faces began to look down on him, he could feel his life fading away. It was really very peaceful; he stared up into the endless blue sky and then…was gone. Eli made his way back into the hotel, up to his room and lay back down on the bed. How many was this? He didn’t know and he’d stopped counting a ways back. His life had become something he’d hoped it wouldn’t, but a long time ago he made choices and he was trapped now. He couldn’t walk away if he wanted to. Oh, he’d thought of it, but a man has to live somewhere and they’d always find him, so he’d resigned himself to a way of life that was part hero and part villain. Sadly, he didn’t know which, or how much of each he was anymore. Either way it had become strictly a matter of survival, and he was very good at it.

Chapter 3

After his father was killed, Eli had been taken in by the widow Thomas. She had a small farm several miles from the Cooper’s and with Eli having no one to go to, she felt like she was the best suited to take care of him. Her husband had died several years before and she and her son, James, could use the help and Eli could certainly use a place to live. The Cooper place was auctioned off and the money given to Mrs. Thomas to tend to Eli’s needs.

Several years passed and Eli had adjusted to living under what was initially a strange roof. Mrs. Thomas was kind, unsmiling and hard working. She was a great cook and always kind to Eli. Her son, James, was several years older than Eli, a tall lean kid with a shock of blond hair that pointed in all directions. He was quiet and stayed to himself. There were periods when he’d wander off for hours at a time - just get on his horse and ride off. At first Eli wondered about it, but since Mrs. Thomas didn’t seem concerned, neither did he. James was always there for his chores and worked hard. He and Eli didn’t spend much time together, which was fine with Eli, because he had other things on his mind.

For years, night after night, he lay awake planning and scheming about how he was going to hunt down the man who’d killed his father. At first it seemed impossible. How would he live and how could he possibly find him? He didn’t know, but when you’re young and unworldly, almost anything seems possible. One thing he did know was he’d have to learn to use a gun. The only guns he and his father had were rifles and they’d been sold off with the farm. He was leery about asking or talking to Mrs. Thomas about it for obvious reasons, but James was another story. Who knew where he went on his recurrent disappearances? Eli didn’t really care; he was just hoping James could help him, discreetly, get his hands on a pistol. Even though they didn’t talk much, Eli figured he’d just ask him straight out and hope for the best.

Eli had just turned sixteen, or at least he thought so by his own reckoning, and had become a pretty good horseman. James’ absences were becoming more frequent and lengthier. His mom still didn’t seem concerned, which Eli found curious, but then maybe she was afraid to know. As long as he came back, did his work, and didn’t cause any trouble, she must have felt it was better left alone. Not that he cared; after all James wasn’t his son. He did, however, wonder what took him away so often and for so long. It was no longer just overnight; it had turned into days at a time, which meant Eli had more work to do and that was beginning to rile him. Rather than confront James, Eli figured he’d just follow him and see where he went. Once he knew, then he might have some dirt on him and use it to get his hands on a gun.

James always seemed to leave right after sunset, and one warm summer evening when he headed for the barn, Eli followed him. Eli slipped out the back and waited for James to leave. As James rode off over the hill to the south of the farm, Eli mounted up and tracked in the same direction. He had no idea where this might lead, but it had to be more exciting than the farm, and his interest was piqued.

He stayed a safe distance behind, never letting James get completely out of sight. One thing was certain, he wasn’t heading to town. As it grew darker and cooler he began to worry. Mrs. Thomas would soon know they were both gone and Eli wasn’t sure how she’d react. But, then again, what could she do? She had no idea where they’d gone and, maybe even a little more unsettling; he didn’t know where they were going either. But if he wanted to hunt down his father’s killer, this was a good chance to venture into the unknown, where that trail would undoubtedly take him.

In the dark he lost sight of James but could still track him under the full moon. It was a warm night with a soft breeze blowing at his back. He’d been on the trail for hours and was having a hard time staying awake. Without any prompting his horse slowly came to a stop, and the gentle pitch forward woke him up. He could see nothing but faint shadows from the moonlight and suddenly he felt very alone. What was he thinking, why did he do this? As he summoned all his faculties, he could see a distant light far off on the horizon. Whether James had gone there or not, he was.

As he grew closer he could hear the sound of music and laughter, with an occasional gunshot. He stopped a few hundred yards away and pondered what to do. He could see it was an old farmhouse, one he’d never known existed. He could see candles burning and caught the scent of something aromatic, like nothing he’d ever smelled before. But he had no choice really; he had to go in and hope for the best. If James was there, he’d have one acquaintance at least. And if he wasn’t there…well then where in the hell was he? He slowly rode into this world of din and seeming unruliness.

Unknowingly, It was his first step in the journey he so longed to make.

Chapter 4

The next morning Mrs. Thomas awoke to silence and despair. She’d grown accustomed to James not always being there, but Eli…she began to worry. He was such a reliable and hard working boy and for him to just disappear….

She decided to wait a little while longer and, if neither one came back, she’d head into town and get the sheriff to help her. She knew where James’ peculiar personality and habits came from, but Eli had always seemed so regular. She’d known Mr. Cooper only slightly, but knew he was a good, hard working man who’d been completely devoted to Eli. His death was such a tragedy. Mr. Thomas, on the other hand, had always been odd. Looking back she wondered why she’d ever married him. He was lazy, drank too much and liked women. Oh, he was a tall, handsome man and that had certainly played a part in her attraction to him. But once she told him she was pregnant, he began to drift away and eventually disappeared. It was only years later she found out he’d been killed by an angry, estranged husband. She wasn’t surprised or even sad, except that James had never really had a father. However, given the man his father was, it had probably worked out for the best.

It was getting close to noon, so she hooked up the buggy and started for town. She wasn’t quite sure what she’d say to Sheriff Wilkins, but she had to tell someone and he was the only authority for miles. The sun was beating down; it had been a long summer and she had grown weary of her life.

* * * *

Eli rolled over and landed face first on the floor. He lay there for a minute trying to figure out where he was and what had happened. He could hear talking in the next room but couldn’t make out what they were saying. Slowly he sat up and tried to get his bearings. The last thing he remembered was getting off his horse in front of the farmhouse. He got to his feet and moved toward the door adjacent to the room where he could hear a man and woman talking. As he opened the door, they grew silent. He stepped into the room still in a daze, Excuse me, can ya tell me where I am? After looking him up and down, the woman got up and came over to him, Well honey, if ya don’t know I guess we wasn’t very impressive now was we?

As his eyes began to focus, he could see that she was a woman like none he’d ever seen before. Older, wrinkled, lots of makeup and loose fitting clothes exposing parts of her Eli would rather not see.

Well ma’m, I’m sorry but I just don’t know where I am. She took him by the hand and sat him down on the couch next to her. The man she’d been talking to shook his head in amusement and left. She proceeded to explain not only where he was, but what he’d done.

He sat in shock. Apparently, he’d not only taken a whirl in the opium den, but followed that up with his first roll in the sack with a woman. As he tried to absorb what he was hearing, he began to feel sick. He bent over thinking he was going to throw up. He didn’t know if it was the opium or the thought he’d had sex with this woman. She must have seen it in his face, Darlin’ it wasn’t me. Oh Lord no! I don’t cotton to young bucks like you.

He’d shown up with just the clothes on his back and that’s how he left. He didn’t want to know who the woman he’d bunked with was, how old she was, or what she looked like. He’d seen and heard all he could handle. For a first venture away from home, this sure was a doozy. As he ambled home on his horse, he wondered what in the world he was going to tell Mrs. Thomas and what if James had been there and seen him? When he got to the farm no one was there. He put the horse away, went in the house, got in bed and fell sound asleep.

He felt a gentle tug on his shoulder, Eli, are you all right? It was Mrs. Thomas, who’d let him sleep through the afternoon and night, just pleased he was home safe. He felt better – embarrassed - but better. He told her he was fine but wasn’t sure how to explain his absence. She gave him a kiss on the cheek, Breakfast’s ready when you are, she said closing the door behind her. She’d never questioned James to his knowledge, so unless she asked he’d just let it be.

He lay there thinking everything had happened so fast. One minute he was riding his horse and it seemed the next minute Mrs. Thomas was waking him up for breakfast. He wasn’t sure if or how much he wanted to remember, but for now he’d get back to work and maybe in time he’d ride back out there - or maybe not.

It was two days before James showed up, looking a little