Ben inhaled the smoke and slowly breathed out. "A spitfire's better than a delicate lady, in my opinion," he reflected. "Ye'll be able to rely on 'er." The fisherwomen certainly weren't delicate, and for all the bragging and macho talk the fishermen did among each other, it was perfectly clear who was in charge at home, and Ben thought it was a good thing too. "I'm glad you were able to hire a hand. I can tell ye from experience having a bairn to look after will take ye more time and energy than ye expect."