Page 1 of The Stranger's Code

1

CAMERON

Fifteen years.

That was how long I’d wanted to work with Antonio Cruz, one of the most iconic directors in Hollywood history. He’d tackled every genre with immense success. Back when I was hopelessly auditioning for toothpaste commercials, he was reshaping audience expectations for big budget action movies. When I was playing minor characters in nationally touring musicals, he was accepting Oscar after Oscar for his take on the modern family drama.

Even after I landed my first big role as Gareth, the love interest in theHoneydewfranchise, I never thought we’d ever work together. It didn’t matter that tickets were sold out months in advance, that the meet and greets were eight hours minimum per day. It didn’t matter that I’d gone from waiting tables to suddenly being waited on hand and foot, with a professional team at my beck and call around the clock. Antonio Cruz only worked with the best of the best.

And I guess I’d never felt like I was the best.

But a few months ago, he’d called me out of the blue and offered me the role of a lifetime.

I was going to be his next main character, a cowboy named Lee. I thought I was being pranked when he casually called me up, but my manager reassured me the offer was real. Cameron Clarke was going to be in an Antonio Cruz movie.

Cameron Clarke was going toleadan Antonio Cruz movie.

Since then, I’ve been doing everything in my power to get ready for the part. I’ve been reading non-fiction books about cowboy culture, watching an endless amount of YouTube videos on ranching. The only thing I haven’t done yet is spend time on a ranch for myself, which was why I was headed to Stratton Ranch right now. I needed to get into the cowboy headspace, really surround myself with them, learn how they walked and talked. I could already tell Montana was wildly different than Los Angeles, but the mountains were absolutely gorgeous.

And I couldn’t get enough of that perfectly cold, crisp air.

I checked the rearview mirror before making a turn down a dirt road. I checked it again right after, quickly glancing at the new stubble on my chin, my hair tucked deep underneath a trucker hat I’d bought at a gas station along the way. If anyone recognized me, this experiment was finished before it even began. I needed to experience something authentic on this ranch, and if it meant looking a little shaggier than I was used to, so be it.

When I pulled up to the ranch, there was an older man leaning against the front gate. I parked a short distance from him and walked up to the gate. “Is this Stratton Ranch?”

The man squinted over at me. “It’s a big place. You can’t miss it.”

“Is this… it, then?”

“Correct. You didn’t miss it.” He grinned. “And you are?”

“Cameron Miller,” I lied. “But everybody just calls me Cam.”

“Nice to meet you, Cam. I think we’ve been expecting you.” He nodded at the ranch behind him. “You’re the one who’s thinking about buying your own farm, right? The one who wanted to see what it’s like to be a ranch hand, get your hands dirty.”

“That’s me.”

“Honorable.” He whistled. He then leaned toward me like he was going to tell me a secret. “You want to know what I think, Cam?”

“What’s that?”

“I think that you’re trouble.”

“What?”

“I have a sense for these things.” He smirked again. “A real sixth sense. Now, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think you’re going to burn down barns or anything. But something tells me you’re going to do… something. I just hope I get there in time to see it.”

“Sorry, what was your name again?”

“Didn’t offer it.” He winked. “And the name’s Virgil. Virgil Stratton.”

Virgil playfully waved before he turned back toward the gate. “All right. I’ve got to go. Places to be, people to see. Let me know if you need anything, Cam. I’m always around, somewhere.”

“Uh, is there a designated place for me to park? Virgil? Virgil?” I shouted, but he just kept steadily walking away, like he didn’t hear a word I said.

What the hell?

Whowasthat guy?

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