Loving Libby, by Robin Lee Hatcher, 2005, Zondervan

Loving Libby, by Robin Lee Hatcher

Libby isn’t really Libby. Or is she? Born Olivia, she has run away and changed her name to escape from a forced marriage.

Now she owns and manages a sheep ranch in a remote part of Idaho. It’s hard work and dangerous in more ways than one for a single woman. But here she finds freedom.

In 1890s high society New York she had been under the bondage of her father, who considered her a possession to profit his own interests. He would have given her away as a business arrangement. Nothing to do with love.

Years later, her father is still determined to own her, and hires investigators to search the country for her. She had already fled from place to place, but this time has been living on the ranch for several years before Remington finds her there. Remington has an agenda of his own, to get even with Olivia’s father.

The plot is complex. Just when you feel the story is nearing conclusion, there’s another twist. The author explores family relationships as they were in that time and place, but still exist in some places. Will Libby be forced to come back under her father’s control? What about her mother? And what about Remington? Will he get his revenge?

Originally published in 1995 as Liberty Blue by HarperCollins, this story continues to be relevant. What really constitutes love and should freedom exist for women? What about safety? Age-old issues for women throughout history.

Sidney Gordon Fredericksen March 17, 1943 – July 28, 2020

My dear Sidney passed away nearly a month ago already. I loved him so much, from the moment I first saw him.

Not that our relationship has been smooth–no, it’s been rocky. I could never have married a boring person, nice though he may be. Sid was the complete opposite of boring! Never a dull moment. Peaceful moments, yes, many. Our favourite times were mornings to ourselves in our quiet living room, with God and our little dog, Bear. We read our Bibles, often aloud to each other, discussed scripture and whatever else was on our minds. Sid played his guitar or ukulele and sang hymns and choruses. He didn’t mind my joining in although I was usually off key. He just made me feel good if I actually got it right. We praised God together, prayed for each other and others as God laid on our hearts.

I miss him so much. It’s still hard for me to come to his page on my website and write about him because his passing is still so recent. I will add more to his story in the future.