The Long Road

By Jeff Howat and Earl Casas

Ryder Christianson is a bright, adventurous young man who is discontent with the good life he has. He and his older brother, Bobby, live on a North Dakota cattle ranch where his dad, Mike, has been raising them on his own since his wife died. Since then, Ryder has been getting into fights, performing poorly academically, and rebelling against all authority. Although Mike’s faith in God is strong and he unconditionally loves his son, Ryder’s constant irresponsible behavior is making him more frustrated by the day. Even a near death experience is not enough to dissuade Ryder’s rebellious attitude and desire for freedom from all authority and responsibility.

While Mike finds comfort in the scripture and his relationship with God, Ryder eventually decides to move in with his aunt in California where he believes he can live without restrictions and responsibilities. Against Mike’s better judgment, he lets Ryder go. Will Ryder’s strong spiritual upbringing be enough to hold him together in a new place or will he stray down the wrong path in pursuit of other desires?

In this uplifting story of forgiveness, faith, and hope, a prodigal son on a long road to maturity must detour away from selfishness, greed, and rebellion to find his way back to God.

• Language: English
• Publisher: WestBow Press
• Release date: Jan 31, 2024
• ISBN: 9798385014415

Jeff Howat

Jeff Howat is a retired educator devoted to Jesus, his wife, and family. He enjoys tennis, chess, and reading Dr. Suess, and many old theologians. Jeff is a member of the ACFW and the SCBWI. www.jeffhowat.com. Earl Casas is a devoted follower of Jesus Christ as well as a husband, father, and office worker who enjoys painting word pictures to communicate truths and bring text to life. Earl is a member of the AFCW.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

What the Old Man Doesn’t

Know Won’t Hurt Him

THE HIGH-PITCHED WHINE OF THE pair of two-stroke engines revving echoed down the empty road ahead as the two young men sat side by side at the edge of town.

I thought you said you had to work on the ranch today. How’d you get out of that? said Dylan.

I am working, Ryder said with a mischievous smile.

Dylan frowned doubtfully. Ah, I don’t think so.

Well, as far as my Mike and Eli know, I’m out on the back forty hard at work fixing the relays on the electric fence.

Dylan laughed. It still cracks me up that you call your old man Mike. I called my dad Stanley once, and I thought he would burst a blood vessel. He was all like, ‘That’s disrespectful! You will address me as Dad,’ and I was all like, ‘Whatever, Stan.’

Ryder laughed hard. You did not say that!

Well, OK, at least not so he could hear me. The two laughed together.

Well, Mike doesn’t know I’m out having fun, and what the old man doesn’t know won’t hurt him! Besides, a late-winter storm is coming, and I wanted to get in one more race before this place is under snow. Plus, if he knew I was gone, he’d have a conniption because I’m still grounded for getting the tractor stuck on the front steps of the public library during prom. And I expect he’ll get an email tonight about the fight I had at school today. Both guys laughed again.

Ha, dude, the way you have been getting into one mess after the other this whole year, your parents are gonna have to lock you up for the summer to keep you under control.

Ryder’s smile faded, and he looked down at the gas cap on his four-wheeler and pretended to adjust it.

Dylan looked embarrassed. Oh, man, I’m sorry. I forgot that your mother died; I mean, I—

Ryder interrupted abruptly. Forget it! It doesn’t matter. Hey, are we going to sit here clucking like a couple of hens, or are we gonna race? With that, he pulled in the clutch and fired up his ATV. Same as last time. We start here at North and Wells. Then go on the green light, turn right on Summit Avenue, then right on Elk. First on past North Avenue wins. Of course, that’ll be me.

Dylan fired up his ATV and shouted, Not this time!

The two rolled up to the traffic light, stopping at the line dead even. Both stared intently at the red lamp, waiting for it to turn green. They turned to each other briefly to shoot each other the stink eye quickly, then back to the traffic light. They each revved their engines in a vain attempt to intimidate the other. The green light caused the engines to roar. Ryder instantly kicked it out of neutral and twisted the throttle. The front wheels of Dylan’s machine lifted slightly into the air only a nanosecond later as his vehicles roared forward, and the two racers darted off in a hail of blue smoke and a cacophony of screaming motors. Both four-wheelers had similar power, but Ryder’s slender build and quick reactions to the green light were usually enough to give him the edge over Dylan off the line. The rest largely depended on the driver’s skill around the corners and how far he was willing to push himself and his ATV.

The familiar race was a quick half mile shaped like a squared horseshoe. The first leg of the race was past St. John Cemetery. The earth-vibrating sound of the two-cycle engines full-out was enough to wake the dead, which it didn’t, but it did alert the neighbors, who always called the police. They each leaned forward to cut the wind resistance as they powered down the first stretch. Ryder looked at his tachometer to see it red-lined as the traffic light at Summit Avenue turned yellow. His goal was to catch the traffic lights before they turned red.

Both bikers quickly took the first ninety-degree right turn with relative ease. This turn was usually with no problem because there was seldom traffic here, making it possible to turn as fast as the driver dared. Straightening back out, they gunned it to the max on the straightaway to the next intersection at Elk Street. At this turn, they would jockey to try to gain the inside corner for a tight right turn at the light. Dylan had taken the inside but lost it when his front tires skidded slightly on gravel near the curb. He fought to maintain control of his machine as Ryder leaned in and cut around. Then he throttled it to the wall, taking full advantage of his opponent’s momentary struggle. Into the backstretch, the two engines roared with the finish line past the traffic light straight ahead, with Ryder in the lead.

Looking ahead, Ryder saw the red traffic light turn green. Yes! This one’s mine! he shouted, glancing over his shoulder to see his increased lead over Dylan.

In the split-second of looking back, Ryder failed to see the old beat-up van entering the intersection simultaneously. It was too late for either driver to yield to the other. In the center of the intersection, Ryder turned his head toward the approaching vehicle, now only a few feet to his left and heading straight for him. The last thing he saw before the van hit the back of the ATV was the startled wide eyes of the intoxicated driver.

Ryder didn’t remember anything else after that. He was unaware of the van’s bumper grazing his back tires just enough to send him and his four-wheeler spinning and careening into the air. He didn’t hear the breaking glass or the van driver’s screams as the driver awkwardly attempted to miss the four-wheeler by turning hard, sending the van into a large metal light pole. And he didn’t see the bone-chilling sight or hear the horrible sound of the impact of metal-on-metal smashing head-on and bringing the van from sixty-five miles per hour to a dead stop.

Slamming on his brakes, Dylan screeched to a halt. Shutting off his machine, he stood in silence and disbelief. His eyes first went to the now smoking van. The man inside was holding his head but was moving. Then he scanned the pieces of Ryder’s ATV strewn about in the intersection and the side of the road. He continued looking for his friend until his eyes came to what looked like a heap of clothes in the ditch about fifty feet from where the van sat as one with the pole. He slowly walked over to get a better look, then started running when he suddenly realized that the mound was his friend lying facedown in the dirt. He wasn’t moving.

Ryder! he screamed to his motionless friend at the top of his lungs.

Standing at the fence next to the cattle barn, Mike looked west across the sprawling plains of his 1,200-acre ranch, the Alpha-Omega, and pulled up the collar of his wool-lined jacket to shield himself from the bone-chilling North Dakota wind, which was quickly picking up and bringing the approaching storm toward the ranch. He had tried to raise Ryder on the radio and again on his phone but to no avail. Switching channels, he keyed the call button again. Mike calling Eli, he half shouted, trying to block the wind from drowning out his voice.

Go ahead, Captain, came the reply.

Eli, where are you?

I’m up in the northwest plot. I was just about ready to leave. I want to get back before the snow and ice starts. That incoming storm looks like it’s approaching fast.

Mike turned up the volume and keyed the radio again. Yeah, they’re saying not to be fooled because it’s a late-winter storm. It’s gonna pack a wallop, so you better be heading in. Ryder is not far north of you working on the relays, but I can’t raise him on the radio or his phone. Would you run by there and tell him he better come in now too?

Ryder? No. Mike, I just came from the back forty, and there was no sign of Ryder. I’ve been up there for the past hour, fixing the relays along that side of the fence.

You’re fixing the relays? I sent Ryder out there a few hours ago to fix them!

Well, I’m sorry to tell you, if you sent your son to fix these, it looks like he started the job but didn’t finish ’cause someone disconnected power, opened a few of the relays, but left them disconnected. I was trying to get everything back up and running, but this storm is not going to let me.

In frustration, Mike banged his hand against the corral fence. I can’t believe it! He just left it like that? This is the third time this month that he has skipped out when he is supposed to be working. And what’s more, he is supposed to be grounded! Mike kicked a stone by his foot and sent it flying. He keyed the radio. "If that first post isn’t connected, then no electricity gets to any of the other posts along that whole section, and he knows that. Nothing stops bears and deer from coming in or cattle from getting out! What is wrong with him? He’s my son, and I love him, Eli, but sometimes his irresponsibility gets me mad. Lately, it’s all the time!

Eli, you’re my foreman. You shouldn’t have to be doing that. Besides, it’s too late for that, especially now with the storm closing in.

Eh, Mike, don’t get yourself worked up over it. He’s just a kid.

Ah, he’s not a kid. He turned eighteen last month. When I was eighteen, I was heading into the Marines, learning discipline, leadership, respect, and how to lead men into battle. He’s just becoming more and more irresponsible, even rebellious. He knows better. I taught him better than that! It’s like he doesn’t care about anything or anyone! Mike took a deep breath. Anyway, we’ll have to fix it tomorrow. The animals should all be hunkering down for the storm in the near and mid plots anyway. Just leave it for now and come on back, Eli. The weather is getting worse fast. And by the way, I told you, I’m not the captain anymore. Mike chuckled.

OK, you’re the boss, chief. I’ll pack up now and head in.

Mike chuckled again. Chief now, is it? OK, 10-4, Eli. I’m calling it quits myself. Stop by the house after you drop off the ATV in the barn.

Will do! I’ll talk to you soon.

Mike returned the radio to his belt and looked back to the northwest toward Eli, the storm, and the town of Hebron. He unconsciously tugged up on his coat zipper against the cold again as if it wasn’t already up as far as it would go.

Mike shook his head, thinking about how Ryder had again abandoned his job. Mike’s dad had taken over the ranch from his dad, and Mike, in turn, took it over from his father after he returned home from serving in the US Marines. His training there had taught him to plan for everything, have a contingency plan for everything, and treat everyone with respect and duty first. He had led a platoon of young Marines through difficult situations and never lost a man.

However, despite all his training and experience guiding young men, he could not get through to his youngest son. Since his wife, Ryder’s mom, had passed away, things with Ryder seemed to worsen progressively. He had been getting into fights at school, his grades were dropping, and he seemed to be shunning any authority. He was always getting into trouble at home and even with the local sheriff. It was almost like he was purposely working to mess up his life. No matter how he tried, Mike couldn’t connect with his son to teach him to be disciplined or accept responsibility; however, what bothered him the most was that he didn’t know how to help his son. Ryder had a very different personality from Mike. He took more after his mom. His mom, Mary, had been the parent who could relate to him. Ryder had become angry and defiant since his mom’s death almost two years ago. His behavior had taken a nosedive, and the chasm between him and his dad had grown deep.

Stepping into the house, Mike shook off the cold and hung his coat on the peg in the mudroom next to the kitchen. Cleo, the family friend and housekeeper, was in the kitchen making dinner, and the aroma filled the house.

Bobby came into the house at almost the same time. Oh, hey, Dad. I finished working on the tractor, but the part I need for the brakes is on back order, so the brakes are still weak. Ryder’s elder brother by two years, Bobby, was the spitting image of Mike in looks and personality. He was task-oriented, responsible, and disciplined.

Thanks, Bobby. Good job. Hey, you didn’t happen to see your brother at all today, did you?

I saw him right after breakfast this morning, but not since then. Why, did he take off to hang with his friends again?

No, I mean, I don’t know. But I haven’t seen him all day either. And Eli said he didn’t do something he was supposed to be working on today.

Big surprise, Ryder not doing his work but instead ducking out and heading somewhere. Really, Dad? You don’t know if he ducked out to go off with his friends? Come on.

Mike just shook his head.

Well, Dad, you’ll see. I’m going to go upstairs and wash up for dinner, Bobby said, heading out into the hall as Mike walked into the kitchen.

Hi, Cleo, whatever you’re cooking smells amazing.

Well, I was just about to start puttin’ the plates of food on the table, so you sit right down yonder and see if you can get some warm to seep into those bones.

Bobby returned and sat scanning the plates of sliced beef, gravy, mashed potatoes, and green beans. When Cleo turned her back, he snatched a small slice of meat off the serving plate.

You better know that I got eyes in the back of my head, young man. And the Good Book says, ‘Let him that stole steal no more.’ So you better not let me catch you stealin’ no more meat before we say grace, she said with a smile. Now, where’s your little brother so we can commence eatin’?

Dad says he skipped out on work again, and no one has heard from him.

Mike looked crossly at Bobby. That’s not what I said. I said that he—

Mike was interrupted by a knock at the back door. It was Eli letting himself in.

Hello! Wow, that smells good! he exclaimed as he brushed the cold off.

Come on in and set a spell. I’ll get you a plate, Cleo said.

Don’t mind if I do, Eli quipped, pulling out a chair. Yeah, Mike, we need to get up there right after this storm passes first thing tomorrow morning before the cattle can find that opening.

Agreed. I can’t believe Ryder would leave it off and open like that.

Well, it’s nothing we can’t fix in the daylight, so no harm, no foul, Eli said as he stuffed a slice of beef in his mouth.

Yeah, this time we caught it before it caused any problems, but I can’t help thinking that sooner or later, Ryder’s irresponsibility is going to cost him or someone else dearly.

Eli nodded in agreement. Oh, not to change the subject, but I was thinking, maybe rather than repair the old one, maybe we could try out that new Palarz Relay that’s still in the box in the toolshed. They are supposed to be more durable and don’t rust like the generic brand we’ve been using.

Great idea! I forgot we even had that. I must have bought that six months ago . . .

As the men talked, the house phone rang, and Cleo went to the kitchen to answer it.

Hello? Christianson residence. Oh, hello, Sheriff Sands. What can I do for you?

Oh, my! Oh, no! Um, yes, yes. He’s here. Just a minute. I’ll get him.

Cleo stepped back into the kitchen, holding the receiver of the phone. Tears were already beginning to run down her face. Michael, it’s Sheriff Sands. He needs to talk with you. It’s about Ryder. He’s been in an accident!

CHAPTER 2

He’s Alive

HE IS ALIVE, MIKE SAID as he hung up the phone.

What’s happened? asked Bobby.

The sheriff said that Ryder and Dylan were racing again in town, and he hit another vehicle at an intersection. The driver of the other vehicle is in the hospital as well. I need to get to the hospital right away.

We’ll go with you, said Eli.

No, he’s in Intensive Care, and only one person is allowed in. I don’t know how long I’ll be at the hospital, so I need you two to take care of things here.

Bobby and Eli sat speechless. Bobby’s thoughts of concern for his brother as well as being the only heir to his father and the ranch frightened him. He knew that Ryder was not interested in taking over the ranch someday. And as much as Bobby loved his dad and worked hard on the ranch, he had plans that did not include taking over the ranch.

Oh my. Oh my, said Cleo as she started busying herself in the kitchen out of nervousness. She had known Ryder since birth and had a soft spot in her heart for him. She started praying out loud as she cleaned the plates and put things away.

Lord, God Almighty. You are the maker of all things. We all know Ryder’s been havin’ a tough go of it since his mama passed. We know she’s in heaven with you right now, and that’s a comfort to all of us. But, Lord, Ryder’s in trouble and lying in a hospital room alone. Lord, be merciful to him, please. Bring healing to his body. Give the doctors and nurses wisdom as they treat him. Lord, we pray for a miracle! A big miracle that only you can do. Lord, raise him up healthy and strong. You are the Great Physician. Lord Almighty, be glorified. Amen!

Mike jumped into his pickup truck and sped off, praying as he flew down the highway toward town. It had been a tough month as Ryder’s escapades had escalated during the last few months of high school. Mike had been more and more tough on him. Dylan and Ryder had been implicated in a prank on the school counselor. They were accused of cutting class and pushing the counselor’s 1967 Volkswagen Bug onto the fifty-yard line of the football field. Then there was an episode during prom where Ryder took the ranch tractor in the town and got it stuck on the library steps. Mike grounded him from going into town and from using the car.

The four-wheel-drive truck gripped the road firmly even though the building storm had begun to leave a coat of snow on the road. None of that mattered to Mike at that moment because all that was on his mind was concern for his son. What if Ryder dies? First, Mary, now Ryder. God, is this a punishment of some kind? Have I sinned in some way? Could I have been a better father to Ryder when he was younger? Could I be better now? Oh, God, please don’t let Ryder die.

Mike saw Sheriff Sands’s police car parked by the ER. He had known Sheriff Brad Sands for a long time. They both attended the same church. The sheriff was a friend to most area ranchers, as cattle ranching and farming were a mainstay in the county. Arriving at the hospital, he ran into the emergency entrance, up the stairs, and down the hall to the ICU. He knew the shortcuts around the hospital since spending many weeks and months there during Mary’s illness. The sheriff was standing outside the ICU doors.

Brad! Where is Ryder?

Mike, there’s no change. He’s still unconscious. Go talk to the doctor. You and I can talk after.

Mike ran to the nurse’s desk. I’m Mike Christianson. Can you tell me what room my son Ryder is in?

Before the nurse could answer, an elderly man in a white frock and a stethoscope around his neck turned from a computer screen. Hello, Mr. Christianson? I’m Dr. Harris. Your son has suffered a traumatic brain injury because of a concussion he experienced from the accident. There is evidence of bruising on his brain, so we medically induced a coma to keep him still and quiet. This will give his body time to let the swelling in his brain go down. He doesn’t appear to have any internal bleeding or other life-threatening injuries. I am not sure why. I have seen these types of accidents many times. He apparently had no helmet, and the sheriff told me that a witness said both vehicles were moving at a very fast speed. He said Ryder was thrown some twenty feet from the point of impact. I think it’s a miracle. Someone must have been watching over him. The doctor shook his head in unbelief. He is young and strong, so I believe he will be OK. We will begin backing off the meds as the swelling in his brain subsides, and we will do a full cognitive workup on him once he is alert and reactive again. I suspect he will be laid up here for several days before we can clear him. He is a fortunate young man. I can take you in to see him now if you like.

Thank you, Doctor. Thank you. Thank you, said Mike, shaking the doctor’s hand vigorously. But I don’t think luck had anything to do with it. God is the producer of miracles.

The doctor led Mike into a darkened room where his son lay motionless on the bed. The only sound was the monitor’s beep and the hiss from the oxygen tube running from the wall to Ryder’s nose. Other lines and wires were running from his son and trailing to machines and containers.

The initial shock of seeing his son in this state made Mike gasp.

The doctor placed his hand on Mike’s shoulder and quietly said, It’s always a bit startling to see a loved one like this, but just remember: all this is to help him, and we fully expect him to be up and about very soon.

Mike nodded in agreement and walked to the bedside, taking Ryder’s hand.

I’ll give you some privacy. Talk to him softly, and you should only stay for a few minutes so he can rest completely.

OK. Thank you, Doctor.

Mike had been sitting in the chair next to the bed for several minutes, holding Ryder’s hand, when the door opened, and a nurse stepped in. I think it’s best if we let Ryder rest more now. You can come back in again in a few hours.

Without looking away from his son, Mike said, OK. Just give me one minute.

The nurse smiled and backed out of the room, leaving the door open.

Son, it’s Dad. You are going to be OK. The medical staff is taking good care of you, and you’ll be home before you know it. God is right here with you, and I’ll be close the whole time too. I love you, son. With that, Mike looked upward and whispered, Thank you, Jesus. Thank you.

Walking out of the ICU, Mike saw the sheriff sitting in the waiting room. Mike! Any change?

No, he’s still out, but the doc says they believe he will be all right.

Oh, man! That’s good news!

Thanks, Brad. Any idea of what actually happened?

Well, we don’t know the whole story yet, but the neighbors reported it sounded like they were racing again. We have a camera at that intersection, and I’ve called for the video to be pulled up, and I have some deputies investigating the scene of the accident. They should also have some details to report and the video by now. I will get an update from the doctor attending to the other driver. After that, I’m heading back to the station to see if we can piece everything together.

Mike nodded. Let me know as soon as you know something.

After the sheriff left, Mike called home to update them and sat in the empty waiting room. Now alone with his thoughts, a tornado of emotions swirled through him. He was angry at Ryder for being so irresponsible and reckless again. He was sad that Mary had left him alone to deal with all of this. He felt a deep love for his son he had difficulty reaching. He felt like a failure of a father. He was a mess on the inside, but he just needed to focus on Ryder getting well right now. As he sat and pondered, he heard someone call, Mike. Turning, he saw Eli walking down the hallway. Eli! What are you doing here?

Mike had supported Eli through several critical moments in his life. And Eli had been there for Mike during Mary’s death, and he felt it necessary to be at the hospital now, just in case Mike needed him.

I just walked in, and nobody stopped me! Sometimes, you just gotta be with your brother!

Mike’s go-it-alone, tough-guy bravado gave way to a deep sigh. Thanks for coming, brother. The doctor said it was a miracle he didn’t die. They induced a coma to keep him resting till his concussion swelling goes down.

There was a long pause. The sheriff said he was drag-racing again. Eli, I’ve been thinking, if that other guy dies, Ryder could be charged with manslaughter.

Mike, don’t think about that!

Mike continued. He could go to jail and live the rest of his life knowing he killed someone. That thought is plaguing me. I love him so much. Mike’s emotional tornado had kicked into high gear.

Mike, come on. You’re getting ahead of yourself. Let’s wait to hear from the sheriff. Don’t borrow trouble that you don’t already have.

The two men talked on for a time, then just sat together. About an hour later, Mike’s phone rang; it read Sheriff.

Hello, Brad, Eli is here with me, and I have you on speakerphone so he can hear too.

OK. Hi, Eli. Mike, I’ve got the accident report and looked at the video. You’ll be relieved to know the accident was not Ryder’s fault. It is clear from the video that the van driver was speeding, and he ran the red light.

Mike was relieved that his son didn’t cause the accident but concerned that the other driver had. He said nothing in response to the sheriff.

"And, Mike, I need