Bad Day for the Hangman

.In pursuit of two outlaws scheduled for the hangman’s noose, Special Deputy US Marshal, investigator and oftentimes bounty hunter, Jake Stone has just ridden into the sleepy little town of Abbot when a bullet whizzes by his head. Not sure before, at least now he knows he’s on the outlaws’ trail. After an extended chase, he captures both of these gunslingers. Even then, one is determined not to go back. In old west fashion, Stone is forced to deal him a little frontier justice. After placing the remaining prisoner in a ramshackle jail, he meets a beautiful Mexican girl, who ironically, has a personal vendetta against the killer. The hanging she anticipates is foiled when two local low-life saddle tramps, hoping for a share of the loot the killer has hidden, clobber an old jailer and breaks him out of jail.
As Stone prepares to track this killer once again, the girl insists on accompanying him. She informs him it is her desire to kill this animal herself. Stone refuses, but she is not to be denied. She will either ride alongside him or follow from behind. Stone relents.
As they chase this desperado along the Canadian River in northern New Mexico there will be times Stone is glad the woman is along. She’s a beauty and the best trail companion he’d ever had, hands down. She’s definitely a keeper if he was one to keep keepers. Other times, when bullets and gun smoke fill the air, he’s not so sure.

Excerpt from this book:
“Amigo, how about another little drink?” Dobbs asked, giving Jose a friendly smile.
“Si, amigo,” Jose agreed and leaned over to pull the bottle from the saddle bag.
As soon as Jose turned, Dobbs pulled the rifle from the scabbard and leveled it at the Mexican’s head. When Jose straighten with the bottle in hand to stare down the maw of the Winchester, his face immediately lost what served him as a smile. One handed, Dobbs aligned the sights just above his captor's ear and pulled the trigger.
The results were simply awesome to say the least. The large caliber slug took out a quarter of the former bandito’s head. Blood, brain matter and shards of bone flew in every direction. One with a quick eye might have seen a burst of red about Jose’s head. His mount reared, turned and galloped back in the direction they had come. The horse ran for several yards before Jose fell, one boot having momentarily hung in the stirrup. The dead Mexican was dragged for several yards before he bounced free.
Dobbs didn't waste time watching Jose’s afterlife antics. Dismounting, he dashed in the direction Juan had taken. When he came upon Juan, the taller bandito was moving towards him and in the process of buckling his gun belt. Though his belt was not completely buckled, he went for the pistol on his hip. Dobbs shot him twice in the belly. Juan's pistol went off harmlessly, the bullet striking the ground midway between himself and Dobbs. Standing in place for a moment on the slight upslope, his knees slowly bent the way knees bend. Falling on his back, his head pointed downhill.