Born In The Saddle - Quicksilver Stud - Book 1 (#wattys2016)

Chapter 1

West Yorkshire, England

It was exactly how I remembered it. Well, a little tired maybe. A few licks of paint here and there would be good. But mostly it was how I remembered it.

My nerves were almost crippling as we passed through the black iron archway with the three prancing horses along the top. 'Why I am here?' I said quietly to myself in the back of the taxi as it ran steadily down the mile long drive, trees lining the entire avenue, like soldiers on guard.

Oh god I feel sick. This was a stupid idea, why had I offered to come back?

Finally, the taxi swept into the large open driveway of Hoxley Grove, better known in the equestrian world as the Quicksilver Stud. Hoxley Grove was the large pretty manor house that had stood for five hundred years. But over the last few decades my family had built a thriving stud farm in it's grounds.

Not that I lived here anymore. I had done once. In fact I was born in the front sitting room. Too eager to get into the world to give my parents time to reach the hospital.

'There she is. Jenna Michaelson. Welcome home.' Maggie Michaelson flung the door open and nearly dragged me out she was so keen. She pulled me to my feet and pecked a kiss to my cheek.

'Hi Grandma.' I replied, hugging back the short, round, grey haired old lady who seemed to be trying to squeeze the life out of me.

'Look at you, all grown up.' Joe my grandfather, the only man in real life with a genuine crazed professor hairstyle, patted a heavy hand to my shoulder. 'Good journey?'

'Not bad.' I answered vaguely.

'Sorry we couldn't pick you up from the train station. Those idiots have had my licence revoked. Too old to drive now, apparently.' He muttered grumpily. 'Anyway, you're here now. Let's get you inside.'

Joe dragged my crammed suitcase out of the boot and paid the driver, while I followed Maggie who eagerly led me into the house. Nothing had changed. Not a single thing was new or different from the last time I'd set foot in here. Which was nearly five years ago.

I could feel Maggie watching me from the end of the hall as I wandered through, rediscovering the rooms I once knew so well. I ran my fingers idly across the back of the old battered leather sofa; looking a little more battered than it used to. Then the squeaky rocking chair Maggie loved, which had somehow picked up an extra squeak. And then my gaze landed on the large imposing oak sideboard. And that's where I froze.

The thing I'd feared most about coming back to Hoxley Grove. There were pictures of my father everywhere. And not just pictures. Rosettes, trophies and other memorabilia from a glittering eventing career.

The headline from the newspaper flashed through my memory. I could see it so picture perfect it's like it was only yesterday.

*****Carl Michaelson, Former World & Olympic Champion killed in horrific fall aged 36*****

***Gold medallist died while competing at Badminton Horse Trials aboard his favourite horse Silver Fox***

Carl Michaelson, I repeated his name in my head. Olympic gold medallist, four time Badminton winner, four time European champion and two time World Champion. And my dad.

He'd had the kind of career most people would chew their own arm off just to be half as successful. Only his record was cut short far too soon when a terrible fall at Badminton ended his life. It was an accident. That's what everyone always said. A terrible accident. Just one of those things. Like that was supposed to make me feel better.