Before long, we were on NY 17 W headed toward Cooperstown. I loved driving-the feel of the tires pulling against the black asphalt, the roar of the powerful engine as I gunned it. Most of all, I liked the speed. I looked at the speedometer and I was going 110 mph, but it felt like 80. The car, my new baby, handled like a dream. Too bad I didn't have one of these two hundred years ago. Then my thoughts turned to Zac, his azure blue eyes, his sun-streaked hair, broad shoulders falling to ...