Gum Tree Lane

By Beverly Scellato

This is a story of faith, family, tradition and intrigue revolving around the Winchester family and a rural property named Gum Tree Lane, which is also the name of a large dairy farm located on the same property. Hiram Winchester, the owner of the dairy and the patriarch of the family has died quite mysteriously. As the family gathers to say farewell to Grans, a mystery develops concerning the circumstances of his death. As the mystery unfolds, a trail of greed and deceit leads the reader to examine the history of the Winchester clan and to examine one’s own life in terms of eternal issues—like faith and eternity.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Jan 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781728343853

Beverly Scellato

Beverly Scellato was born and spent her formative years in southern West Virginia. As a child, she loved to read and yearned to visit places far beyond the narrow valleys of her home state. She graduated from Anderson College in Anderson, Indiana before it became a University. She worked for several years as a bacteriologist with a major pharmaceutical company. She and her husband, Robert, an engineer and businessman raised their two sons on a farm in Indiana. After involvement in various agricultural businesses in Indiana, Robert invested in an agricultural property in Australia. They have traveled extensively in Australia for the past 30 years. After gaining experience in writing Bible Studies for 25 years, she was inspired to combine her love for writing with her fascination with Australia and its people into a novel. While all the places mentioned are real places that interested the author, all the people and situations in the story are fictitious.

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© 2020 Beverly Scellato. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse  01/28/2020

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4387-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4386-0 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-7283-4385-3 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020901162

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and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

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Scripture quotations marked KJV are from the Holy Bible, King James Version (Authorized Version). First published in 1611. Quoted from the KJV Classic Reference Bible, Copyright © 1983 by The Zondervan Corporation.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1 Coming Home

Chapter 2 Saying Farewell To Grans

Chapter 3 The Investigation Begins

Chapter 4 The Investigation Continues

Chapter 5 Going To Sydney

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CHAPTER 1

COMING HOME

A fter what seemed like a lifetime on the bouncy roads of Victoria, she spied the sign on the right side of the highway. Gum Tree Lane in bright red letters on a crisp white background, with Hiram Winchester, Proprietor in small print beneath. Just the way she remembered it. She was proud that she was a Winchester and that Hiram Winchester was her Grans.

As she turned her rented SUV onto the graveled drive, the car came to a complete stop, almost as if it had a mind of its own. She was overwhelmed anew by the majesty of the place. It happened every time she turned her car into the lane that led to her grandparent’s estate. Before her stretched the long dark lane lined with gum trees that had stood in their places for generations. Since Grans had gotten older, the gum trees had become overgrown and now completely shadowed the long lane. The long sun dappled lane always held intrigue for her. Since the days of her childhood, this had been her favorite place in the whole world.

In her mind, she was walking along the lane clinging to the hand of Grans—she remembered his hands. They were big and calloused and always seemed to give her the feeling that all was well. It was hard to believe that she would never clasp those strong hands again. Although her Grans was up in years, his passing had been unexpected and sudden. He just got sick with some mysterious stomach problem and in a couple of days he was gone. The grief of the moment came tumbling in on her—she tried to hold back the tears and focus on the lane ahead but her efforts were futile—she wept without restraint. She was glad that, except for the sleeping infant in the backseat of her car, she was alone. She would have her moment of personal grief—she would get it over—before dealing with the inevitable waiting at the end of Gum Tree Lane.

Elyse Winchester—now Elyse Murphy, of San Francisco, California—was a long way from home. But in her heart, she was just coming home. She had been born on this beautiful estate just outside of Bendigo in Victoria, Australia. This was her ancestral home, and each time she returned, she was home. San Francisco was her address, but Gum Tree Lane was home. Why had she left here in the first place? Did she leave to find her life—was it here all along? She loved her life in the states with Jeff and the kids, but her heart was here in the rolling hills of Victoria—where her great-great-great-grandfather had gained wealth in the gold mines and invested it in property—a lot of it. A significant part of the property was in front of her—a cattle and dairy station that encompassed ten thousand hectares of some of the most beautiful countryside in the whole of Victoria.

There were fields of lucerne, barley and corn, and pasture. She had seen the herds of Jersey cows grazing peacefully as she had approached the drive. She wondered who was overseeing the constant milking now that Grans was gone. Years earlier, he had graduated to a supervisory position as far as the actual care of the herds and the milking were concerned. He hated every minute that he had to be semi-retired (as he called it). He never gave up his interest in the daily operation of this huge dairy farm that demanded attention 24-7. He tried to walk through the pastures every day and have a look at the cows. The dairy business had been his passion much like gold had been the passion of his grandfathers before him. The gold industry had long ago played itself out in this area for the most part—at least as far as the gold industry was concerned. Now, her family—at least what was left of it—had to carry on or sell the estate.

She had come to bury her Grans and help decide the future of Gum Tree Lane. The mixture of emotions overwhelmed her again—she sat transfixed by the situation. She had managed to hold it all together until now. She felt peace—and comfort of being home—but also the dread of having to say goodbye to Grans surrounded by all the other members of her family. She had gotten word too late to be here when he passed. She had been with her Grams when she passed away four years ago, but this time, she couldn’t make the trip quickly enough. She had gotten the call after she landed in Sydney that Grans was gone.

They would all be there—hoping for their portion of the estate. Her family was small compared to many of the families in the area—her father, Graham Winchester, and his sister, Margaret, were the only surviving offspring of Hiram and Lily Winchester. There had been two others—a son, Nigel, who died at age three from snakebite, and Lucy, who was killed in an auto accident as a teenager on Bendigo Road. Grams never got over losing her Lucy; she grieved for her till the day she died.

Mentally, she began to call the roll of those who she expected would be waiting for her arrival at the sprawling manor house at the end of Gum Tree Lane. There would be her own Pops and Mum—Graham and Polly Winchester; Aunt Margaret and Uncle Rob Bishop; her brother, Clint, and his wife, Marie; and their young twins. She was not sure about her cousins and their kids—she would find out soon enough. She was still pondering the situation when she heard a whimper from the backseat—she had almost forgotten about her precious Lucy.

Lucy, named for her much loved and long-deceased aunt, was her miracle baby. Her mind went back to that day—that moment, in the doctor’s office, during the third month of her pregnancy—which will be forever riveted in her memory as one of those life-changing moments you never see coming which hits you squarely between the eyes. It is the moment that changes your life forever because it reveals to you who you really are. It tests you to the very core of your belief system. It is the moment when what you think you believe and what you actually do believe come crashing together in one giant explosion of reality. It is the moment when a decision is made quickly and quietly because of who you are in your relationship with the Creator.

The doctor had said, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy, from what we see on the ultrasounds and the other tests, it appears that the fetus is severely deformed, with a slim chance of viability. It is my considered opinion that you should consider terminating this pregnancy. She had tried to remain calm and control the fury that was creeping up from somewhere deep inside, as she gripped Jeff’s hand until his fingers turned bright red. Without asking further questions or asking for details, words came pouring out of her. She couldn’t remember exactly what she said, but it was something like, First of all, doctor, this baby inside of me is not a fetus; it is our child. God has blessed us with him or her, and we will allow Him to be responsible for the outcome of this pregnancy. Abortion is not an option; it is murder. She had always been pro-life, but it was that day and that moment her belief passed from a theoretical concept to the reality of her life. Her belief system had been tested, and she placed her trust firmly in God to determine the future of this baby that she was carrying in her body.

By the time that she was ready to deliver the baby—three weeks early—she and Jeff had done everything that they knew to do to prepare themselves and their other two children for what lay ahead. They had prayed almost continuously that they would have the grace to accept this baby—whatever the difficulties were—with the same love and joy as they had accepted the other two. They had rehearsed all the possibilities that they could imagine—even to laying the infant in a casket and burying him or her. They were prepared, spiritually and emotionally, for the worst.

The questions from their six-year-old son, Grant, had most provoked and challenged them. Will he have all his toes, Dad? What about eyes—will he have eyes? Will he be able to hear me? She had let Jeff handle these questions because thinking about it was just too painful. Grant, who was a miniature of his father, looked adoringly at Jeff, who said, Grant, we will love and take care of the baby brother or sister that God gives us—no matter what he or she can or can’t do and no matter what he or she looks like. Remember that we are a family, and we will stick together. Tonight, before we go to bed, we will all pray once again for the baby and that we will all love each other with God’s love. That simple assurance seemed to satisfy the little boy’s angst for the moment.

Grant’s little sister, Amanda, who was only three, had no concept of the potential problems that lay ahead. She was just excited about a new baby to love. She wanted a baby to take care of. She was a sweet child who had her grandmother Polly’s nose and gray-green eyes. She was totally female—loved frills and baby dolls and dancing. She was a delight to Jeff when she snuggled up to him—her hero daddy. She called him Super Daddy.

When she was in the labor room delivering Lucy, when she had pushed that last push—she held on to Jeff. She felt a combination of relief and dread—wanting to know and yet wanting to delay the inevitable as long as possible, when a piercing cry interrupted her thoughts and jarred her back to reality. Jeff jumped to attention just as the doctor said, Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Murphy. You have a beautiful baby girl! What?

The attending nurse placed the wiggling wailing infant on her stomach. She and Jeff had counted the fingers and toes and given her a quick visual examination before the nurse just as quickly took her away to be cleaned up. They would have to wait a few minutes to become acquainted with Lucy Faith Murphy. She was perfect—from the fuzzy blond hair on her head to the five toes on each foot. God is so good!

As she released her seat belt to turn to check on the baby, two sparkling blue eyes opened, and a smile erupted from the perfect little mouth. She looked like her daddy. Elyse was always delighted when she saw that smile. Just a few more minutes, sweet one, and we’ll be home.

She put the car in gear and drove slowly up Gum Tree Lane.

Her heart skipped a beat as the big house came into view when she rounded the bend in the lane and her vehicle moved into the brightness of the clearing—just like she remembered it. It had been four years since she had last seen the rambling two-story house that she had always called the Big House. Two-story homes are quite rare in the bush country in Australia. This one was a combination of the traditional federal architecture with the long rolled-roof verandas and the more modern two-story homes common in the suburbs. She had always loved the uniqueness of the place. Her parents had made a lot of changes since they came to live with Grans after Grams passed away four years ago. Though Graham Winchester had traveled the world in his military and business life, he never lost the love of freshly turned soil and the muskiness that assaulted the nostrils when one approached the barns. So, when Grans asked him to come back to help with the dairy, he gladly sold his share of the profitable brokerage business in Melbourne to his partners and moved back to the land. He never regretted his choice—dairy was in his blood.

She was enthralled by what she saw as she surveyed the scene. Ah, yes. She squinted as she tried to take it all in with one swift glance. The upper veranda had been added—bringing welcome shade from the brutal Australian sun. The white bark of her favorite ghost gum tree stood in stark contrast to the darkness of the gums along the lane. There it stood like a lonely sentinel, casting its shadow over the garden that was now ablaze with spring blossoms. Unlike Grams, her mum had always loved flowers, and it showed—she had added flowering borders and shrubs and trained climbing roses to trail all around the perimeter of the walled garden. The low bushes and agapanthus were all in full bloom—magnificent! She smiled—home at last.

The slamming of the screen door broke her reverie. She looked up to see her mum with pops right behind, nearly running down the walkway to the car park. Mum was drying her hands on her apron. In a swoop of arms and kisses, she was engulfed by them both at once in a huge embrace.

Where’s my miracle baby? asked Polly Winchester in a hush that one reserves for sacred moments.

Elyse smiled. Right here she is, in the back seat.

Lucy opened her eyes once again and then squinting from the brightness of the sun, whimpered as she reached her arms to her grandmother. Polly undid the restraints that held the six-month-old Lucy in her auto seat—and held her close. Oh, my love, I have longed to hold you, my beautiful Lucy. Elyse could see tears glistening in her mother’s eyes as she viewed her granddaughter for the first time. She’s just perfect, she mouthed silently to Elyse as she handed her over to Pops. Let me see this beautiful girl, her father said. Lucy went willingly into the arms of her waiting grandfather—he held her as one handles a valuable treasure. Relax, Pops, Elyse laughingly said to her father. She won’t break if you hug her. She’s used to rough play. Remember that she has a brother and sister who like to play rough. She’s a tough little girl. You won’t hurt her.

As her parents were getting acquainted with Lucy, Elyse moved to the car and opened the boot to remove her luggage. She gasped as once again, she realized how much paraphernalia is necessary for one small baby. She was reaching for her suitcase when a strong hairy arm grabbed her from behind and she was in the arms of her little brother, Clint. The affectionate name Little Brother had long since become a joke between the two of them. Clint, four years her junior, stood six feet, five inches and weighed in at about twenty stones—all muscle. He smelled of the cow sheds. She had better get used to it again if she was going to be on a dairy farm. Hey, Little Brother, you gave me a fright, she squealed. He hugged her, and she nestled her face into the roughness of his work clothes. Ah! The aroma of a dairyman. She was home.

Aw, sis, How’re going? I didn’t mean to frighten ya. Here, let me help ya with all this stuff. Are ya moving in? Where’s the little bit? Ah, there she is. Crackies, sis, you sure make gorgeous babies! Let’s get all this stuff in the house.

Fatigue gnawed at her arms and body as she fed and changed the baby. After settling Lucy in for her nap in the cot that her parents had improvised, Elyse made her way into the kitchen, where it seemed the whole family was congregated. How about a cuppa, Mum? I need the caffeine before I hit the wall. Jet lag has taken over my body. Clint’s sweet wife, Marie, had come in with the twins. The two-year-old boys were small versions of their father. Zechariah (called Zack) was a little shy and hid behind his mother, but Obadiah (called Obie) welcomed the opportunity to make a friend. How like her brother to name his sons for biblical prophets. He was a student of the Bible and especially loved the Old Testament prophecies. On the weekends, he and Marie and the boys traveled around the rural communities and held preaching in public places—in parks and on street corners—for those far away from a church.

Oh, my goodness, Marie, these guys are gorgeous. I bet you’re Zack, she said as she reached around Marie to pull the boy from his hiding place behind his mother. As she hugged the unwilling child, he began to cry and wiggle out of her grasp. She put him down with a smile. You’ll get to know me soon, little one.

She turned her attention to the other twin. You must be Obie. What a handsome young man you are. Do you have a hug for Aunt Elyse? Obie willingly went into her open arms and returned her embrace. As she buried her face in his clothing, she could smell the barns. Another dairy man in the making, she thought with a smile. Breaking free from her arms, Obie looked her in the eyes.

Baby Lucy? he asked with a question in his eyes as well as on his lips. Oh, my dear, she’s having a little sleep. Do you want to see her? Come, let’s have a peek. You must be very quiet, okay? Obie followed up the stairs and down the hall on tiptoe to the bedroom where she had left Lucy asleep. As he peered over the edge of the large bureau drawer that doubled as a cot for the baby, he smiled and whispered, Lo, Baby Lucy. Soon, there were two pairs of blue eyes peering over the edge of the drawer. Curiosity had brought Zack out of his shell.

The preparation for the funeral and burial of Grans was in full swing. Her mum was in charge. There were lots of details to take care of for the funeral of someone as loved and respected as Hiram Winchester, her Grans. Pops and Aunt Margaret had been responsible for the funeral arrangements. Family friends joined the women of the family as they planned and prepared for the wake. It was heartbreaking task for her, but she worked alongside her mum, Marie, and