The Ghost Riders of Red Rock Mountain Read online

  The Ghost Riders of Red Rock Mountain:

  A Will Cannon, Bounty Hunter, Western Adventure Novel by Larry Hill

  Disclaimer: This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person, living or dead is purely coincidental. All rights reserved.

  Dedication: This book is dedicated, in loving memory, to my parents Ray and Juanita and to my brother Mike Hill of Portales, New Mexico.

  A Note from the Author

  My name is Larry Hill and I am the author of the Will Cannon, Bounty Hunter, Western Adventure Novels and many other novels, short stories and one collection of cowboy poetry on Amazon Kindle. I also have many audio books available on Amazon, I-Tunes and Amazon Audible. Most of my books are set in the old west but I do have many novels set in modern times. All of my works can be viewed and bought here. http://www.Amazon.com/Larry-Hill/e/B008915N9K

  I am retired now and I live in Tucson, Arizona but I do enjoy going to the mountains for some trout fishing during the hot summer months. I spend most of my time writing, fishing, visiting historical sites, watching baseball and shooting. I enjoy hearing from my readers and I can be reached anything at this e-mail. [email protected]

  May God bless each and every one of you and may the bottom of your pan always be golden. Larry

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One: Trouble in Santa Fe Chapter Two: Grants, New Mexico

  Chapter Three: The Ghost Riders of Red Rock Mountain

  Chapter Four: The Navajo Village Chapter Five: The TOR Ranch

  Chapter Six: Killers on the Road

  Chapter Seven: A Mountain of Cooper

  Chapter Eight: Making Plans for the Navajos

  Chapter Nine: The Founder’s Day Celebration in Grants

  Chapter Ten: Meeting with the Ranchers

  Chapter Eleven: The Trip to Silver City

  Chapter Twelve: The Battle Looms

  Chapter Thirteen: Raines Makes his Move

  Chapter Fourteen: Setting Things Right in Grants

  Chapter Fifteen: Mr. Stiles Comes to Grants

  Chapter Sixteen: A Bitter Sweet Farewell

  Chapter 1

  Santa Fe, the Territory of New Mexico

  Will Cannon left the Santa Fe Hotel early that morning. He stepped out onto the sidewalk and scanned the almost deserted streets of Santa Fe, New Mexico. He had several things he needed to do before the train to Grants, New Mexico, departed at eleven AM that morning. The hotel cafe wasn't open yet but

  Will saw a lamp burning inside the Lopez Cafe. Will scanned the street and alleys and rooftops before he walked across the dirt street to the Lopez Cafe.

  Will looked through the window of the Lopez Cafe before opening the door. The cafe was empty at this early hour. Marie Lopez was standing behind the counter. The strong fragrance of coffee filled the air.

  “Hello, Marie, how are you?” asked Will, as he walked into the cafe. “Senor Cannon, I am very glad to see you. How are you?” asked Marie. “I'm fine and your son Junior is fine too. Junior is doing a real good job with the horses at the ranch.” stated Will. Jose Lopez Junior, Marie and Jose's son, worked at the Mora River Ranch that Will and his brother, Joe Cannon, owned and operated near the small town of Mora, New Mexico.

  “Would you like a cup of coffee, Senor Cannon?” asked Marie. “I would, Marie, where is that husband of yours? Is he in the kitchen eating all of the hot biscuits again?” joked Will. “I heard that, Mr. Cannon,” said Jose Lopez, as he walked out of the kitchen. Jose shook Will's hand and sat down at Will's table. Marie poured each man a cup of hot steaming coffee. “How are things at the ranch, Mr. Cannon?” asked Jose. “Everything is good out there. We had enough snow last winter so we ought to have plenty of grass this year. You and Marie should be real proud of Junior. He's a hard worker and he is really good with the horses.” said Will. “I'm glad Junior is doing a good job for you but his mother really misses her boy and we haven't seen Junior for six weeks. Could you ask him to come and visit us? His finance, Anna, comes over here every day to ask about Junior. You know how women are when they get some worry on their minds. They can't think of anything else.” said Jose. “We are getting a shipment of groceries at our grocery warehouse business in about ten days. Some men will come over here to Santa Fe to get supplies for the ranch. They will have to spend the night in Santa Fe. I'll make sure Junior makes that trip.” said Will. “You don't have to do that, Mr. Cannon, but we would sure appreciate it,” said Jose Lopez. “Jose, I smell the biscuits. I think they are ready. Don't be bothering, Mr. Cannon. He wants his breakfast.” said Marie, as she slapped at Jose with her kitchen towel. “All right, Marie, I'll take the biscuits out of the oven.” It's good to see you, Mr. Cannon.” said Jose. What would you like for breakfast this morning, Mr. Cannon?” asked Marie. “I'll have two scrambled eggs with some green chili and a slice of ham, some potatoes if you have them and a couple of Jose's burned biscuits.” joked Will. “OK, Senor Cannon, do you want honey with your biscuits?” asked Marie. “I would like some honey, Marie.” said Will.

  Will sipped his coffee and watched the street while he waited for his breakfast. The Lopez Cafe served the best Mexican food in Santa Fe and Will always ate here when he was in Santa Fe. Jose and Marie Lopez had owned this cafe for many years. They had always had a good bit of business but they were really busy now that Santa Fe was growing so rapidly. Marie and Jose were in their mid-forties now. They had hoped their only child, Junior, would take over the cafe. But Junior wanted to raise horses on his own horse ranch. Junior was very good with horses and Will hoped that Junior would have his own horse ranch someday soon.

  Will's breakfast was very tasty. He was finishing his second cup of coffee when Jose came back to the table. “Are you in Santa Fe on business, Mr. Cannon?” asked Jose. “I have some business to take care of here but I'm catching the train to Grants this morning.” said Will. “Grants, there is lots of trouble over at Grants. The Santa Fe newspaper had stories about the trouble in Grants.” said Jose. “I saw those stories and you are right, Jose, there is a lot of criminal activity going on over there.” said Will.

  “If you go there you must be very careful, Mr. Cannon. Make sure you stay away from Red Rock Mountain. Those ghost riders will get you for sure if you go to that mountain alone.” said a wide eyed Jose. “Who are those ghost riders, Jose?” asked Will.

  “I don't know. Nobody knows for sure. Some folks say that the Red Rock Mountain is an old burial ground and it's guarded by the ghosts of the dead Apaches. I just know that several men have gone up on that mountain and nobody ever seen them men again. That's not a place you want to go, that's for sure.” stated a nervous Jose. “I'll be careful, Jose. Thanks for the warning.” said Will.

  Three young cowboys walked into the cafe. Will knew the cowboys by sight but he didn't know their names. They all worked at a ranch north of Santa Fe.

  “I had better be getting back to the kitchen now. We will be getting busy soon.” said Jose “OK, Jose, I'll make sure Junior gets up here to see you and his mother.” said Will. Will laid some money on the table and then walked by the table where the three young cowboys were sitting. “Good morning. Mr. Cannon.” said the tallest cowboy. “Good morning, gentlemen. How are y’all today?” asked Will. “We are fine. We came to get some supplies over at your

  grocery wholesale store.” said the tallest cowboy.

  “Well, thank you for your business. You men take care.” said Will. “You too, Mr. Cannon,” said the shortest cowboy.

  Will Cannon left the Lopez Cafe and walked toward his wholesale grocery store. He spoke briefly with James, the manager of the store, before he walked over to the Bank of Santa Fe. Will
and Joe Cannon were partners in the bank. He talked briefly with their partner, the president of the bank. Everything was fine at the bank so Will walked over to the livery stable.

  Old Dexter, the old horse trader and the owner of the livery stable, was feeding the horses in the corral.

  “Good morning, Dexter.” said Will. “Hello Will Cannon. Your horse Red told me that he wanted to stay here with me. I might give you a hundred dollars for Red.” joked the old timer. Will laughed. Old Dexter was always trying to buy Red. Red was a strong thoroughbred and he was worth at least five hundred dollars. Will was never going to sell Red.

  “I don't know what was whispering in your ear, maybe a tick, but it sure wasn't Red. I told you before that Red isn't for sale.” stated Will. “Well, OK, Will. Are you here to get Red?” asked Dexter.

  “I am, could you get him.” said Will. “Yeah, I'll go get him.” said Dexter. Will chuckled as Old Dexter walked away. Old Dexter had made up several stories to get Will to sell Red but this was the best story Old Dexter had come up with yet.

  Will had some time to kill before the train to Grants arrived so he tied Red to the hitching post in front of the gun shop. He went inside the gun store and looked over the new weapons. There were no new weapons he hadn't seen before so Will said good-bye to the owner of the gun shop and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

  Will immediately saw the two rough looking men walking across the street toward him. He recognized one of the men. Ollie Crawford was a border bandit from Texas. Will had killed Ollie Crawford's brother and collected the bounty on him about six months ago in El Paso, Texas. Will slipped the leather safety thong off the hammer of the Colt forty-five in his holster and stepped out onto the street.

  “Cannon, you killed my brother and now I'm going to kill you. You shot my brother in the back, you dirty coward,” yelled Ollie Crawford. Will sized up the two men walking toward him before he answered. Ollie Crawford was a back shooter. He wasn't known for his skill with a pistol. Crawford usually bushwhacked his victims. Crawford was wanted in Texas for bank robbery, train robbery and murder. The last wanted poster Will had seen on Crawford offered a three hundred and fifty dollar reward for Crawford, dead or alive.

  The man with Crawford was a dark haired chubby man. Will didn't not know this man. He had never

  seen Crawford's pal on a wanted poster. Crawford had an older Colt forty-five in his holster. The chubby man was carrying an old Navy Colt. Will Cannon stepped into the street in front of Crawford and his chubby partner.

  “You are right, Crawford, I did kill your brother. Your brother tried to bushwhack me. Your brother was a dirty low down back shooter and I enjoyed collecting the bounty on his head. The last time I saw your ugly face on a wanted poster you were only worth three hundred and fifty dollars. You are hardly worth my time, Crawford. What's your name? Do you have a bounty on your head?” Will asked the chubby man. The chubby man fidgeted and looked over at Ollie Crawford. “Don't pay no attention to what Cannon says, Chubby. His name ain't none of your business, Cannon.” snarled Crawford. “Well, OK, I guess there will be another unmarked grave in Boot Hill. I hope you are the last Crawford brother, Ollie. You varmints have caused enough trouble in Texas. Did the Texas Rangers run you out of Texas, Crawford? Is that why you have to sneak over here to New Mexico?” taunted Will. “Shut up, Cannon. I am the last Crawford and I am going to kill you for killing my brother.” said Crawford.

  Will Cannon could see the hate spitting out of Crawford's eyes. Crawford was about to go for his gun but Chubby's eyes were darting around looking for some avenue of escape. Crawford grabbed for his pistol but he never cleared leather. Will Cannon's draw was lightning fast and his aim was deadly. The slug from Will Cannon's Colt forty-five ripped through Crawford's black heart and ended his life. Crawford stumbled back hard and was falling to the ground when Will swung his Colt forty-five on Chubby. Chubby was staring at Crawford. Sweat was running off of Chubby's face, as he stood there with his mouth open watching the blood gush out of the bullet hole in Crawford's chest and stain the dirt on the street. “What's it going to be, Chubby? Either go for your pistol or throw up your hands,” ordered Will. “Don't shoot, I ain't drawing my gun. Look, I'm putting up my hands,” said Chubby, as he raised his hands high above his head. “Keep your hands up and turn your back to me and take three paces forward and stop. I'm watching you.” ordered Will.

  “Don't shoot me in the back, Cannon. I'm keeping my hands up.” pleaded Chubby. Will walked over and checked Crawford. Crawford was dead. Will picked up Crawford's pistol and stuck it in his waistband. He scanned the street and alleys and roof tops, but he saw no other bushwhackers.

  A crowd of people had gathered on the sidewalk now. They were all looking toward the scene of the gunfight. Will walked over and lifted Chubby's old Navy Colt pistol out of his holster. “Turn around real slow and face me. Then I want you to unbuckle your gun belt with your left hand and let it drop to the ground and I want you to do it real slow.” demanded Will. “Don't shoot me, Cannon. I didn't know what Crawford was up to and I ain't never kilt nobody.” cried Chubby. Chubby's gun belt fell to the ground. “Now you tell me, Chubby, how did Crawford know I was in Santa Fe?” demanded Will. “He didn't know you were here. He just saw you leaving the livery stable. He said he was going to talk to you. He didn't say nuthing to me about killing you.” whined Chubby. “What was Crawford doing in Santa Fe?” asked Will. “We were just passing through. We had to give our horses a rest. We just rode in this morning, honest. I'm telling you the truth. We were going to Grants. Crawford said we had a job over there. Crawford talked to a man in Amarillo and he got some money from that fella to travel over to Grants.” said a very scared Chubby. “What is the name of the man Crawford talked to in Amarillo?” demanded Will. “Crawford said the man's name was Whitley and he was hiring for the WR Brand over by Grants.” stated Chubby. “Hiring gun hands?” questioned Will. “Crawford didn't say that. I ain't no gun hand.” whined Chubby. “What crimes have you and Crawford done?” demanded Will. “I ain't done nuthing. Crawford stole a man's horse and his money just after we crossed the Texas border into New Mexico, but he made the man walk toward town so we could get away. That man wasn't hurt when I seen him last.” whined Chubby. “How much money did Whitley give Crawford in Amarillo?” asked Will.

  “I don't know. Crawford kept all the money and he just gave me money a dollar at a time.” stated Chubby. Will had to wonder if Chubby was really that stupid.

  “Sit down on the ground, Chubby.” ordered Will. Will had to hurry now. The Sheriff of Santa Fe, Jack Fowler, would be here soon. Will emptied Crawford's pockets and found almost two hundred dollars in crisp currency. “Where are your horses, Chubby?” demanded Will. “That's them over by the saloon. The roan and the black.” answered Chubby. “Did Crawford steal the black?” questioned Will. “Yes, he did.” admitted Chubby.

  Will looked around at the people standing on the sidewalk. The three cowboys Will had seen at the cafe that morning were standing there looking at Crawford's body. “Could a couple of you men go over there and bring that roan and that black over here?” asked Will. “Sure thing, Mr. Cannon. Who was that man? Was he a gunslinger?” asked the tallest cowboy. “His name was Crawford. He was a border bandit and a back shooter from down El Paso way.” stated Will. “We'll get them horses, Mr. Cannon,” said the shortest cowboy.

  Will looked at the black first. There was nothing in the saddle bags to identify the owner of the horse but there was a money bag containing several gold coins. There was an older 30-40 Krag rifle in the scabbard. “Did this Krag belong to Crawford?” asked Will. “Yeah, that was Crawford's rifle. Crawford sold that man's pistol and gun belt to some man in a saloon over by Quay, New Mexico.” answered Chubby. “Did Crawford kill the owner of this black, Chubby? Were you in on the robbery?” demanded Will. “No, Crawford told me to break camp and he rode off. He came back later riding the black and trailing his horse. When we got to the top of the hill
I seen the owner of the horse walking down the road. What's going to happen to me, Mr. Cannon? I ain't never robbed nobody and I ain't never kilt nobody.” whined Chubby. Will saw Sheriff Fowler walking toward him. “I'll talk to Sheriff Fowler about you.” said Will.

  “What happened here, Mr. Cannon?” asked the sheriff. Will told the sheriff about the confrontation with Crawford. He got the flyer on Crawford out of his saddle bags and showed it to the sheriff. “I'll get the voucher for three hundred and fifty dollars for you now and I'll send some telegrams to Texas and find out if the bounty has been increased since this flyer was put out. Stop by my office before you leave town. Who is this man?” asked Sheriff Fowler. Will told the sheriff Chubby's story and he showed the black to the sheriff. “What do you do when you ain't riding with outlaws?” the sheriff demanded of Chubby. “I'm a teamster. I drive wagons. I ain't no outlaw, Sheriff.” stated Chubby. “Cut him loose. He don't have the look of a gun hand,” stated Sheriff Fowler. Will walked over to where Chubby was sitting. He took sixty dollars out of his pocket and handed it to Chubby.

  “You ride out now and don't come back here. This is more than enough money to get you to Durango. There are plenty of silver mines in Colorado and they are always looking for teamsters. From now on you had better be more careful who you ride with Chubby.” ordered Will. “I will, Mr. Cannon. Thank you. I'll head for Durango right now.” said Chubby.

  Will checked his pocket watch and realized the train would be in Santa Fe in about thirty minutes. He was walking toward the sheriff's office when he was approached by a young man carrying a notebook and a pencil. “Excuse me, Sir. I'm a reporter for the Santa Fe newspaper. Could you tell me your name and describe how the shooting occurred today?” asked the young reporter.

  Will looked the young reporter over from head to toe before he spoke. “No, I can't. The man that was killed today is from a family of outlaws and cutthroats from Texas. If the man's relatives find out he is dead they will come here to find the man that killed their kin. The first place the outlaws will go for information is to your newspaper. Those Texas border bandits have been known to use a red hot branding iron on a man to get some information out of him. Then when the outlaws get the information they want they usually hang the informant and leave him hanging there so the crows can pick out his eyes and the buzzards can rip his flesh off his bones.” stated Will. The reporter's face was now as white as a sheet. The reporter mumbled, “Thank you,” as he hurried off down the street.