Blog:The Night Watch

Chapter: The Night Watch

I didn’t expect to lose my key that night—or to find a story in a quiet man named Colton. But that’s the way it works sometimes. When you’re not looking for anything, something finds you.

Bella had just finished the day undefeated. She bowled with joy and calmness, earning her place at the national championship. Her lowest match play score was a 192, but every game felt intentional. After the awards ceremony, we snapped pictures—Bella surrounded by her bowling friends, relaxed and glowing. There was no spotlight needed. She was the light.

Afterward, we drove to Fredericksburg, and Barbi had picked the perfect spot—The Fredericksburg Inn. It was tucked between trees and bridges, surrounded by charm. The kind of place that slows your heartbeat and reminds you of being seven again, when wonder still lived in your feet.

That evening, I wandered. First to the creek, barefoot in the dusk, where the frogs were singing like they knew me. Then into the hot tub, where the steam rose like quiet praise and the night wrapped itself around me like a prayer.

It wasn’t until I started heading back that I realized my room key was missing.

And that’s when Colton showed up again.

We’d met just minutes earlier—him making his rounds, gently reminding guests the pool was closing. He carried the kind of stillness that made you notice. Not loud. Not forceful. Just present.

I thought maybe I left the key near the hot tub. I told him I’d go check before he locked the gate. As I turned on my flashlight and scanned the concrete, I remembered the hole—the same small pocket in the deck where I’d found my necklace earlier. Just a few feet from where I’d left my towel.

I looked down.

There it was. Floating in the hole. Submerged, just like the necklace had been.

I jogged back to Colton, smiling like I’d just solved a mystery.

“Guess where it was?” I said.

Without hesitation, he said, “In the hole.”

I laughed. “How’d you know that?”

He shrugged. “Just had a feeling.”

“You’re not a prophet, are you?”

“No sir,” he said, smiling. “Not psychic.”

But the way he said it—quiet, calm, certain—made me pause. He didn’t have to say much. He just knew. Like someone who walks slowly enough to pay attention.

I walked away thinking: Everyone’s got greatness in them. Sometimes it takes a stranger at the edge of a pool to remind you how to find it.

As I looked around one last time, I saw fireflies lighting up along the grass line and the moonlight dancing on the surface of the creek. The frogs hadn’t stopped singing.

And I hadn’t stopped smiling.

That night reminded me: even when things feel lost, you’re never far from finding them again. Sometimes all it takes is stillness. Or light. Or a stranger named Colton.

And if I don’t see him on this side,

I’ll see him on the other